awkward for his enemy).     

       “Thieves!” Hyde yelled at the top of his lungs, groping wildly for his pistol and not finding it.     

       King sat up and rubbed his eyes. The native drew the knife, and--believing himself in command of the situation--hesitated for one priceless second. He saw his error and darted for the door too late. With a movement unbelievably swift King was there ahead of him; and with another movement not so swift, but much more disconcerting, he threw his sheet as the retiarius used to throw a net in ancient Rome. It wrapped round the native's head and arms, and the two went together to the floor in a twisted stranglehold.     

       In another half-minute the native was groaning, for King had his knife-wrist in two hands and was bending it backward while he pressed the man's stomach with his knees.     

       “Get his loot!” he panted between efforts.     

       The knife fell to the floor, and the thief made a gallant effort to recover it, but King was too strong for him. He seized the knife himself, slipped it in his own bosom and resumed his hold before the native guessed what he was after. Then he kept a tight grip while Hyde knelt to grope for his missing property. The major found both the thief's bags, and held them up.     

       “I expect that's all,” said King, loosening his grip very gradually. The native noticed--as Hyde did not--that King had begun to seem almost absent-minded; the thief lay quite still, looking up, trying to divine his next intention. Suddenly the brakes went on, but King's grip did not tighten. The train began to scream itself to a standstill at a wayside station, and King (the absent-minded)--very nearly grinned.     

       “If I weren't in such an infernal hurry to reach Bombay--” Hyde grumbled; and King nearly laughed aloud then, for the thief knew English, and was listening with all his ears, “--may I be damned if I wouldn't get off at this station and wait to see that scoundrel brought to justice!”      

       The train jerked itself to a standstill, and a man with a lantern began to chant the station's name.     

       “Damn it!--I'm going to Bombay to act censor. I can't wait--they     

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