conclusions from that betrayal.

'That was a small matter. It lay on the straight road to Benares. I
and the Sahib have by this time forgotten it. I send so many letters
and messages to men who ask questions about horses, I cannot well
remember one from the other. Was it some matter of a bay mare that
Peters Sahib wished the pedigree of?'

Kim saw the trap at once. If he had said 'bay mare' Mahbub would have
known by his very readiness to fall in with the amendment that the boy
suspected something. Kim replied therefore:

'Bay mare. No. I do not forget my messages thus. It was a white
stallion.'

'Ay, so it was. A white Arab stallion. But thou didst write "bay
mare" to me.'

'Who cares to tell truth to a letter-writer?' Kim answered, feeling
Mahbub's palm on his heart.

'Hi! Mahbub, you old villain, pull up!' cried a voice, and an
Englishman raced alongside on a little polo-pony. 'I've been chasing
you half over the country. That Kabuli of yours can go. For sale, I
suppose?'

'I have some young stuff coming on made by Heaven for the delicate and
difficult polo-game. He has no equal. He--'

'Plays polo and waits at table. Yes. We know all that. What the
deuce have you got there?'

'A. boy,' said Mahbub gravely. 'He was being beaten by another boy.
His father was once a white soldier in the big war. The boy was a
child in Lahore city. He played with my horses when he was a babe. Now
I think they will make him a soldier. He has been newly caught by his
father's Regiment that went up to the war last week. But I do not
think he wants to be a soldier. I take him for a ride. Tell me where
thy barracks are and I will set thee there.'

'Let me go. I can find the barracks alone.'

'And if thou runnest away who will say it is not my fault?'

'He'll run back to his dinner. Where has he to run to?' the
Englishman asked.

'He was born in the land. He has friends. He goes where he chooses.
He is a chabuk sawai [a sharp chap]. It needs only to change his
clothing, and in a twinkling he would be a low-caste Hindu boy.'

'The deuce he would!' The Englishman looked critically at the boy as
Mahbub headed towards the barracks. Kim ground his teeth. Mahbub was
mocking him, as faithless Afghans will; for he went on:

'They will send him to a school and put heavy boots on his feet and
swaddle him in these clothes. Then he will forget all he knows. Now,
which of the barracks is thine?'