at the least? Have ye never seen, ye blinder-than-bats--how one
man holds a patient while his boils are lanced, and yet another
makes the hot iron ready?"

"Aye! Aye!"

They had both seen that often.

"Then, what are ye?"

They gaped at him. Were they to work wonders too? Were they to
be part and parcel of the miracle? Watching them, King saw
understanding dawn behind Ismail's eyes and knew he was winning
more than a mere admirer. He knew it might be days yet, might be
weeks before the truth was out, but it seemed to him that Ismail
was at heart his friend. And there are no friendships stronger
than those formed in the Khyber and beyond--no more loyal partnerships.
The "Hills" are the home of contrasts, of blood-feuds that last until
the last-but-one man dies, and of friendships that no crime or need
or slander can efface. If the feuds are to be avoided like the devil,
the friendships are worth having.

"There is another thing ye might do," he suggested, "if ye two grown
men are afraid to see a boil slit open. Always there are timid
patients who hang back and refuse to drink the medicines. There
should be one or two among the crowd who will come forward and
swallow the draughts eagerly, in proof that no harm results. Be
ye two they!"

Ismail spat savagely.