'I did not thieve,' protested Kim. 'You have hit me kicks all over my body. Now give me my charm and I will go away.'
'Not quite so fast; we'll look first,' said Father Victor, leisurely rolling out poor Kimball O'Hara's 'ne varietur' parchment, his clearance certificate, and Kim's baptismal certificate. On this last O'Hara—with some confused idea that he was doing wonders for his son—had scrawled scores of times: 'Look after the boy. Please look after the boy,'—signing his name and regimental number in full.
'Powers of Darkness below!' said Father Victor, passing all over to Mr. Bennett. 'Do you know what these things are?'
'No,' said Kim. 'But they are mine, and I want to go away.'
'I do not quite understand,' said Mr. Bennett. 'He probably brought them on purpose. It may be a begging trick of some kind.'
'I never saw a beggar less anxious to stay with his company, then. There's the makings of a gay mystery here. Ye believe in Providence, Bennett?'
'I hope so.'
'Well, I believe in miracles, so it comes to the same thing. Powers of Darkness! Kimball O'Hara! And his son! But the he's a native, and I saw Kimball married myself to Annie Shott. How long have you had these things, boy?'
'Ever since I was a little baby.' Father Victor stepped forward quickly and opened the front of Kim's upper garment. 'You see, Bennett, he's white. White as you or me. What's your name?'
'Kim.'
'Or Kimball?'
'I say Kim. Will you let me go away?'
