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give me when I'm alone among the 'Hills.' Hit hard when you have to, but for God's sake, old man, ware traps!”

“All right,” said his brother.

“Then good-by, old man!”

“Good-by, Athelstan!”

They stood facing and shook hands. Where had been a man and his reflection in the mist, there now seemed to be the same man and a native. Athelstan King had changed his very nature with his clothes. He stood like a native--moved like one; even his voice was changed, as if--like the actor who dyed himself all over to act Othello--he could do nothing by halves.

“I'm going to try to get in without my men seeing me!” said the younger.

“If they do see you, they'll shoot!”

“Yes, and miss! Trust a Khyber jezailchi not to hit much in the dark! It'll do 'em good either way. I'll have time to give 'em the password before they fire a second volley. They're not really dangerous till the third one. Good-by!”

“By, Charles!”

Officers in that force are not chosen for their clumsiness, or inability to move silently by night. His foot-steps died in the mist almost as quickly as his shadow. Before he had been gone a minute the Pass was silent as death again, and though Athelstan listened with trained ears, the only sound he could detect was of a jackal cracking a bone fifty or sixty yards away.

He repacked the loads, putting everything back carefully into the big leather envelopes and locking the empty hand-bag, after throwing in a few stones for Ismail's benefit. Then he went to sit in the moonlight, with his back to a great rock and waited there cross-legged to give his brother time to make good a retreat through the mist. When there was no more doubt that his own men, at all events, had failed to detect the lieutenant, he put two fingers in his mouth and whistled.

Almost at once he heard sandals come pattering from both directions. As they emerged out of the mist he sat silent and still. It was Darya Khan who came first and stood gaping at him, but Ismail was a very close second, and the other three were only a little behind. For full two minutes after the man with the sore stomach had come they all stood holding one another's arms, astonished. Then--

“Where is he?” asked Ismail.

“Who?” said King, the hakim.

“Our sahib--King sahib--where is he?”

“Gone!”

Even his voice was so completely changed that men who had been reared amid mutual suspicion could not recognize it.

“But there are his loads! There is his mule!”

“Here is his bag!” said Ismail, pouncing on it, picking it up and shaking it. “It rattles not as formerly! There is more in it than there was!”

“His two horses and the mule are here,” said Darya Khan.

“Did I say he took them with him?” asked the hakim, who sat still with his back to a rock. “He went because I came! He left me here in charge! Should he not leave the wherewithal to make me comfortable, since I must do his work? Hah! What do I see? A man bent nearly double? That means a belly ache! Who should have a belly ache when I have potions, lotions, balms to heal all ills, magic charms and talismans, big and little pills--and at such a little price! So small a price! Show me the belly and pay your money! Forget not the money, for nothing is free except air, water and the Word of God! I have paid money for water before now, and where is the mullah who will not take a fee? Nay, only air costs nothing! For a rupee, then--for one rupee I will heal the sore belly and forget to be ashamed for taking such a little fee!”

“Whither went the sahib? Nay--show us proof!” objected Darya Khan; and Ismail stood back a pace to scratch his flowing beard and think.

“The sahib left this with me!” said King, and held up his wrist. The gold bracelet Rewa Gunga had given him gleamed in the pale moonlight.

“May God be with thee!” boomed all five men together.

King jumped to his feet so suddenly that all five gave way in front of him, and Darya Khan brought his rifle to the port.

“Hast thou never seen me before?” he demanded, seizing Ismail by the shoulders and staring straight into his eyes.

“Nay, I never saw thee!”

“Look again!”

He turned his head, to show his face in profile.

“Nay, I never saw thee!”

“Thou, then! Thou with the belly! Thou! Thou!”

They all denied ever having seen him.

So he stepped back until the moon shone full in his face and pulled off his turban, changing his expression at the same time.

“Now look!”

“Ma'uzbillah! (May God protect us!)”

“Now ye know me?”

“Hee-yee-yee!” yelled Ismail, hugging himself by the elbows and beginning to dance from side to side. “Hee-yee-yee! What said I? Said I not so? Said I not this is a different man? Said I not this is a good one--a man of unexpected things? Said I not there was magic in the leather bag? I shook it often, and the magic grew! Hee-yee-yee! Look at him! See such cunning! Feel him! Smell of him! He is a good one--good!”

Three of the others stood and grinned, now that their first shock of surprise had died away. The fourth man poked among the packs. There was little to see except gleaming teeth and the whites of eyes, set in hairy faces in the mist. But Ismail danced all by himself among the stones of Khyber road and he looked like a bearded ghoul out for an airing.

“Hee-yee-yee! She smelt out a good one! Hee-yee-yee! This is a man after my heart! Hee-yee-yee! God preserve me! God preserve me to see the end of this! This one will show sport! Oh-yee-yee-yee!”

Suddenly he closed with King and hugged him until the stout ribs cracked and bent inward and King sobbed for breath among the strands of the Afridi's beard. He had to use knuckles and knees and feet to win freedom, and though he used them with all his might and hurt the old savage fiercely, he made no impression on his good will.

“After my own heart, thou art! Spirit of a cunning one! Worker of spells! Allah! That was a good day when she bade me wait for thee!”

King sat down again, panting. He wanted time to get his breath back and a little of the ache out of his ribs, but he did not care to waste any more minutes, and his eyes watched the faces of the other four men. He saw them slowly waken to

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