wide-awake sahib should have made such a truly feeble showing at
the end.

"Damn it!--couldn't you hold him? Were you afraid of him, or what?"
demanded Hyde, beginning to dress himself. Instead of answering,
King leaned out into the lamp-lit gloom, and in a minute he caught
sight of a sergeant of native infantry passing down the train. He
made a sign that brought the man to him on the run.

"Did you see that runaway?" he asked.

"Ha, sahib. I saw one running. Shall I follow?"

"No. This piece of his shirt will identify him. Take it. Hide it!
When a man with a torn shirt, into which that piece fits, makes for
the telegraph office after this train has gone on, see that he is
allowed to send any telegrams he wants to! Only, have copies of
every one of them wired to Captain King, care of the station-master,
Delhi. Have you understood?"

"Ha, sahib."

"Grab him, and lock him up tight afterward--but not until he has
sent his telegrams!'

"Atcha, sahib."

"Make yourself scarce, then!"

Major Hyde was dressed, having performed that military evolution