ady by
late-breakfast time. But I'm certain your best place to leave the tracks
will be Sehora."

Dickson Sahib was worrying with a match, his face troubled, as he
muttered:

"Now if Hand-of-a-God--"

"What is that?" Skag asked quietly, of Cadman.

"That," smiled Dickson Sahib, "is a Scotchman. This civil station of
Hurda is famous because he lives here. He is an absolutely perfect shot.
Years ago he took all the medals and cups at the great shooting
tournaments. He took 'em all, till for shame's sake he withdrew from
contesting. He goes to the tournaments just the same--the crackshotmen
wouldn't be without him--but he doesn't enter for the trophies any more."

"He is called the avenger of the people, Skag," Cadman put in, "because
he goes out and gets the man-eaters; never sights for anything but the
eye or the heart, and never misses."

"As I was saying," Dickson Sahib went on, "if Hand-of-a-God were here,
he'd go without asking. Or even if the Rose-pearl's brother Ian were
here, he's quick enough. But he plays with situations, rather."

"Don't let this situation trouble you, Dickson," said Cadman.

There fell a moment of curious silence. Cadman was a bit pale, but
Skag's face looked serene, as he questioned innocently:

"Rose-pearl?"

"Yes," Dickson Sahib began absently, "she's here when she's not visiting
one of her numerous brothers; just now it's Billium in Bombay. Her
degree is from London University and the medical service recognises her
work among the people. She's a holy thing to them; indeed, she never
rests when there's much sickness among them. But one wouldn't ask a
favour of one of her brothers."

"Hold on, Dickson, I protest!" Cadman interrupted laughingly. "I'm not
such a bad shot myself, you know!"

"The Grass Jungle is crowded--I say crowded--with the worst kinds of
blood-eaters. You may want an extra good shot; at the very top notch of
practice, what's more."

As Dickson Sahib came out with it, he noticed Skag's surprise, and
challenged him:

"Bless your soul, man, I believe it's your grip that grips us!"

Skag's serene face got warm, but Cadman assented.

"Skag dwells in the fundamentals," he explained; "most of us never touch
'em. He's practically incapable of fear; and the idea of failure never
occurs to him."

Early next morning Cadman got a telegram calling him to Calcutta; and
afterward to England.

"We'll take time to do this big thing first, though," he s