certain men who know. Byng-bahadur knows. I
know--and I will show the way! Let me lead, sahib, for a little while,
and I will show thee what to lead!"

"But--"

"Does this sword, sahib, mean nothing? Did Byng-bahadur send it me for
fun?"

"But what's the idea? I can't disobey orders, and ride off to--God
knows where--without some excuse. You'll have to tell me why. What's the
matter? What's happening?"

"Byng-bahadur sent not one word to me when he sent this sword. To thee
he said: 'Listen to Mahommed Gunga, even when he seems to lie!' I
know that, for he told me he had said it. To me he said: 'Take charge,
Mahommed Gunga, when the hour comes, and rub his innocent young nose
hard as you like into the middle of the mess!' Ay, sahib, so said he. It
is now that I take charge."

"But--"

"'But,' said the nylghau, and the wolf-pack had him! 'But,' said the
tiger, and the trap door shut! 'But,' said the Hindoo, and a priest
betrayed him! But--but--but--I never knew thy father make much use of
that word!"

"Yes--but--I have my orders, Mahommed Gunga!"

"Sahib--this sword is a sword of honor--it stands for Byng-bahadur's
honor. I have it in my keeping. Mine own honor is a matter somewhat
dear to me, and I have kept it clean these many years. Now I ask to keep
thine honor, too, awhile--making three men's honor. If I fail, then thou
and I and Byng-bahadur all go down together in good company. If I fail
not, then, sahib--Allah is contented when his honor stands!"

Cunningham drew rein and looked him in the eyes. Gray eyes met brown and
neither flinched; each read what men of mettle only can read when they
see it--the truth, the fearlessness, the thought they understand because
it lives with them. Cunningham held out his hand.

Some thirty minutes later Cunningham, Mahommed Gunga, and the five, with
a much-diminished mule-train bumping in their wake, were headed westward
on a dry, hot trail, while the time-expired and convalescent escort
plodded south. The escort carried word that Cunningham had heard of
trouble to the west, and had turned off to investigate it.

CHAPTER XXIII

Quoth little red jackal, famishing, "Lo,
Yonder a priest and a soldier go;
You can see farthest, and you ought to know,--
Which shall I wander with, carrion crow?"
The crow cawed back at him, "Ignorant beast!
Soldiers get glory, but none of the feast;
Soldiers work hardest, and snaffle the least.
Ta