y.

"That's the man, sir. Well, he come to me, followed me up like, and I
engaged him."

"But he's gone to India!" cried Singh excitedly.

"Gone to India, sir? Well, he's only got as far as the elephant, and
that's in Brummagem town as sure as I am sitting here."

"Do you hear this, Glyn?" cried Singh excitedly.

"Oh yes, I hear," was the reply, and the two lads exchanged glances,
while Ramball sat shaking and nodding his head like a mandarin image.

"It's no use, gentlemen. You threw that chance away. He come after me
and followed me up all through the Midlands. Half-starved he was, pore
chap. I never see such a gentlemanly sort of chap so hard pushed as he
was; and at last out of charity like I took him on. And very glad I am,
for he's turned out capital. He talks that Indian gibberish to the old
Rajah, and the big beast follows him about like a lamb. Never have a
bit of trouble with him now, only when he tries to shove one of the
caravans over with that big head of his, just in play; and then Bah
Klay--that's his show-name, and a very good one too--comes and says
`Hookah-bah-dah' and `Shallahballah,' and the Rajah follows him as quiet
as can be."

"Oh," said Singh.

"Ah, I wish you could see him, sir," continued Ramball, dabbing his head
pleasantly with his yellow handkerchief. "Bah Klay is quite an addition
to my show, and the people come in hundreds to see him and the Rajah
alone. It was him himself as came to me one day and proposed it."

"What, the Rajah?" cried Glyn.

"The Rajah! Tchah! What are you talking about? No; Bah Klay. He said
it wouldn't cost much, and that if I'd pay for the white cotton bed-gown
sort of thing for him to wear and some scarlet muslin to roll up to make
a muzzle to wear upon his head--"

"Muzzle! Over his mouth, you mean," cried Glyn.

"Who said anything about muzzle?" cried Ramball tetchily. "I said
puggamaree--and that if I'd buy them, he'd dress up, and that he'd got a
property to finish it all up fine. Well, I'd never seen any property
that he'd got except a few things in a very shabby old carpet-bag that I
wouldn't have picked up off the street. Still, I couldn't help thinking
that him in a white bed-gown and a red turban on his head, cocked up
there on the elephant's neck, wouldn't make a bad picture; so I said I
would, and the very next week when we had paraded for a procession to go
through one of the pottery towns and draw the people in, Mr Bah