he
Boy. As soon as the moon was up, and The Boy, theoretically, just
buried, we struck across country for the Station. We walked from eight
till six o'clock in the morning; but though we were dead-tired, we did
not forget to go to The Boy's room and put away his revolver with the
proper amount of cartridges in the pouch. Also to set his writing-case
on the table. We found the Colonel and reported the death, feeling more
like murderers than ever. Then we went to bed and slept the clock round;
for there was no more in us.

The tale had credence as long as was necessary, for every one forgot
about The Boy before a fortnight was over. Many people, however, found
time to say that the Major had behaved scandalously in not bringing in
the body for a regimental funeral. The saddest thing of all was a letter
from The Boy's mother to the Major and me--with big inky blisters all
over the sheet. She wrote the sweetest possible things about our great
kindness, and the obligation she would be under to us as long as she
lived.

All things considered, she WAS under an obligation; but not exactly as
she meant.

MISS YOUGHAL'S SAIS.

When Man and Woman are agreed, what can the Kazi do?

Mahomedan Proverb.

Some people say that there is no romance in India. Those people are
wrong. Our lives hold quite as much romance as is good for us. Sometimes
more.

Strickland was in the Police, and people did not understand him; so
they said he was a doubtful sort of man and passed by on the other side.
Strickland had himself to thank for this. He held the extraordinary
theory that a Policeman in India should try to know as much about the
natives as the natives themselves. Now, in the whole of Upper India,
there is only ONE man who can pass for Hindu or Mohammedan, chamar or
faquir, as he pleases. He is feared and respected by the natives from
the Ghor Kathri to the Jamma Musjid; and he is supposed to have the gift
of invisibility and executive control over many Devils. But what good
has this done him with the Government? None in the world. He has never
got Simla for his charge; and his name is almost unknown to Englishmen.

Strickland was foolish enough to take that man for his model; and,
following out his absurd theory, dabbled in unsavory places no
respectable man would think of exploring--all among the native
riff-raff. He educated himself in this peculiar way for seven years, and