“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 not see his eyes at that instant, although he tried to.     

       He looked back at the train, giving the man a good chance to study his face in profile.     

       “Oh, thank you, sir!” said the native oilily. “You are most kind! I am your humble servant, sir!”      

       King nodded good-by to him, his dark eyes in the shadow of the khaki helmet seeming scarcely interested any longer.     

       “Couldn't you find another berth?” Hyde asked him angrily when he stepped back into the compartment.     

       “What were you out there looking for?”      

       King smiled back at him blandly.     

       “I think there are railway thieves on the train,” he announced without any effort at relevance. He might not have heard the question.     

       “What makes you think so?”      

       “Observation, sir.”      

       “Oh! Then if you've seen thieves, why didn't you have 'em arrested? You were precious free with that authority of yours on Peshawur platform!”      

       “Perhaps you'd care to take the responsibility, sir? Let me point out one of them.”      

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