The only things which can not be explained are facts. So, use 'em.
A riddle is proof there is a key to it. Nor is it a riddle when
you've got the key.
Life is as simple as all that. --Cocker


Delhi boasts a round half-dozen railway stations, all of them
designed with regard to war, so that to King there was nothing
unexpected in the fact that the train had brought him to an
unexpected station. He plunged into its crowd much as a man in
the mood might plunge into a whirlpool,--laughing as he plunged,
for it was the most intoxicating splurge of color, din and smell
that even India, the many-peopled--even Delhi, mother of dynasties--
ever had, evolved.

The station echoed--reverberated--hummed. A roar went up of human
voices, babbling in twenty tongues, and above that rose in differing
degrees the ear-splitting shriek of locomotives, the blare of bugles,
the neigh of led horses, the bray of mules, the jingle of gun-chains
and the thundering cadence of drilled feet.

At one minute the whole building shook to the thunder of a grinning
regiment; an instant later it clattered to the wrought-steel hammer
of a thousand hoofs, as led troop-horses danced into formation to
invade the waiting trucks. Loaded trucks banged into one another
and thunderclapped their way into the sidings. And soldiers of
nearly every Indian military caste stood about everywhere, in what
was picturesque confusion to the uninitiated, yet like the letters
of an index to a man who knew. And King knew. Down the back of