other officer of native cavalry looked in at the club that night.

* * * * *

Warrington rode into the rain at the same speed at which he had
galloped to the police station, overhauled one of the mounted
troopers whom he himself had sent in search of Ranjoor Singh, rated
him soundly in Punjabi for loafing on the way, and galloped on with
the troop-horse laboring in his wake. He reined in abreast of the
second trooper, who had halted by a cross-street and was trying to
appear to enjoy the deluge.

"Any word?" asked Warrington.

"I spoke with two who said he entered by that door-that small door
down the passage, sahib, where there is no light. It is a teak door,
bolted and with no keyhole on the outside."

"Good for you," said Warrington, glancing quickly up and down the
wet street, where the lamps gleamed deceptively in pools of running
water. There seemed nobody in sight; but that is a bold guess in
Delhi, where the shadows all have eyes.

He gave a quiet order, and trooper number one passed his reins to
number two.

"Go and try that door. Kick it in if you can--but be quick, and try
not to be noisy!"

The trooper swung out of the saddle and obeyed, while Warrington and