the truth to an Englishman! Of what use is the Sirkar's police if a poor Kabuli is robbed of his horses in their very trucks. This is as bad as Peshawur! I should lay a complaint at the Thanah. Better still, some young Sahib on the railway. They are zealous, and if they catch thieves it is remembered to their honour.'
He tied up his horse outside the station, and strode on to the platform.
'Hullo, Mahbub Ali,' said a young Assistant District Traffic Superintendent who was waiting to go down the line—a tall, tow-haired, horsey youth in dingy white linen. 'What are you doing here? Selling crocks, eh?'
'No; I am not troubled for my horses. I come to look for Lutuf Ullah. I have a truck-load up the line. Could any one take them out without the Railway's knowledge?'
'Shouldn't think so, Mahbub. You can claim against us if they do.'
'I have seen two men crouching under the wheels of one of the trucks nearly all the night. Faquirs do not steal horses, so I gave them no more thought. I would find Lutuf Ullah, my partner.'
'The deuce you did! And you didn't bother your head about it? 'Pon my word, it's just almost as well that I met you. What were they like, eh?'
'They were only faquirs. They will no more than take a little grain perhaps from one of the trucks. There are many up the line. The Sirkar will never miss the dole. I came here seeking for my partner, Lutuf Ullah'
'Never mind your partner. Where are your horse-trucks?'
'A little to this side of the farthest place where they make lamps for the trains.'
