He began to walk up and down, not elbowing but percolating through
the crowd, missing nothing worth noticing in all the hot kaleidoscope
and seeming to find new amusement at every turn. It was not in
the least astonishing that a well-dressed native should address
him presently, for he looked genial enough to be asked to hold a
baby. King himself did not seem surprised at all. Far from it;
he looked pleased.

"Excuse me, sir," said the man in glib babu English. "I am seeking
Captain King sahib, for whom my brother is veree anxious to be servant.
Can you kindlee tell me, sir, where I could find Captain King sahib?"

"Certainly," King answered him. He looked glad to be of help. "Are
you traveling on this train?"

The question sounded like politeness welling from the lips of unsuspicion.

"Yes, sir. I am traveling from this place where I have spent a few
days, to Bombay, where my business is.

"How did you know King sahib is on the train?" King asked him,
smiling so genially that even the police could not have charged
him with more than curiosity.

"By telegram, sir. My brother had the misfortune to miss Captain
King sahib at Peshawur and therefore sent a telegram to me asking
me to do what I can at an interview."

"I see," said King. "I see." And judging by the sparkle in his
eyes as he looked away he could see a lot. But the native could