'But wherefore—wherefore?'
'That is what I ask. I only suggest that if any one steals the papers I should like some good strong, brave men to rob them back again. You see they are vitally important, and Mahbub Ali he did not know where you were.'
'Mahbub Ali to rob the Sahiba's house? Thou art mad, Babu,' said Kim with indignation.
'I wanted the papers. Suppose she had stole them. It was only practical suggestion, I think. You are not pleased, eh?'
A native proverb—unquotable—showed the blackness of Kim's disapproval.
'Well,'—Hurree shrugged his shoulders,—'there is no accounting for thee taste. Mahbub was angry too. He has sold horses all about here, and he says old lady is pukka (thorough) old lady and would not condescend to such ungentlemanly things. I do not care. I have got the papers, and I was very glad of moral support from Mahbub. I tell you I am fearful man, and, somehow or other, the more fearful I am the more damn-tight places I get into. So I was glad you came with me to Chini, and I am glad Mahbub was close by. The old lady she is sometimes very rude to me and my beautiful pills.'
'Allah be merciful,' said Kim on his elbow, rejoicing. 'What a beast of wonder is a Babu! And that man walked alone—if he did walk—with robbed and angry foreigners.'
'Oah, that was nothing after they had done beating me, but if I lost the papers it was pretty jolly serious. Mahbub he nearly beat me too, and he went and consorted with the lama no end. I shall keep to ethnological investigations henceforward. Now good-bye, Mister O'Hara. I can catch 4.25 p.m. to Umballa if I am quick. It will be good times when we all tell thee tale up at
