had taken our seats, he said: "What has happened to the British Press?"
"That's what I have been asking for the last two hours," I said.
"Evidently the police are keeping the matter dark. But why?" said Chelubai.
"I can only suppose that unless a reporter chances to get hold of a matter of this kind they do keep such incidents dark—at any rate till they see their way to acting with credit," I said. "It certainly reflects no credit on them that a rising King of Finance should be knocked on the head under the palings of that most important British institution, the Oval cricket-ground."
"Perhaps they see their way to acting with more effect if they wait a day or two," said Bottiger gloomily.
"I don't see where the effect is coming in. We haven't given it a chance," I said cheerfully.
"Something may have gone wrong," said Bottiger.
"How do you mean?" said Chelubai.
"Are you sure he was quite—removed?"
"Unless the head of a rising King of Finance is as thick as his skin and we ought to have used a half-brick instead of sand, he was quite removed," I said.
"It was the best sand—silver sand," said Chelubai.
