of verbal trap I did not answer him.

"You are like this elephant. You are able to do irreparable damage if
you see fit. _She_ was as apt as usual when she dubbed you Ganesha!"

He was working toward some point he intended to make, like one of those
pleasant-tongued attorneys flattering a witness before tying him up in a
knot, so I was careful to say nothing whatever. King came around the
kneeling elephant and joined us, leaning back against the beast and
appraising the Mahatma with his eyes half-closed.

"You're dealing with white men," King suggested. "Why don't you talk in
terms that we understand?"

It seemed difficult for the Mahatma to descend to that. He half-closed
his eyes in turn and frowned, as if hard put to it to simplify his
thoughts sufficiently--something like a mathematician trying to explain
himself to the kindergarten class.

"I could kill you," he said, looking straight at King.

King nodded.

"You are not the kind of man who _should_ be killed," he went on.

"Did you ever hear the fable of the fox and the sour grapes?" King asked
him, and the Mahatma looked annoyed.

"Would you rather be killed?" he retorted.

"'Pon my soul, I'm inclined to leave that to the outcome," King
answered. "Death would mean investigation, and investigation discovery
of that science you gave us a glimpse of."

"If I was to let you go," the Mahatma began to argue.

"I would not go! Forward is the only way," King interrupted. "You've a
reason for not having us two men killed. What is it?"

"I have no reason whatever for preserving this one's life," the Mahatma
answered, glancing at me casually. "For reasons beyond my power of
guessing he seems to bear a charmed existence, but he has my leave to
visit the next world, and his departure would by no means inconvenience
me. But you are another matter."

"How so?" King asked. "Mr. Ramsden is the man who would be inquired for.
The Indian Government, whose servant I no longer am, might ignore me,
but the multi-millionaire who is Mr. Ramsden's partner would spend
millions and make an international scandal."

"I am thinking of you, not of him. I am thinking you are honest," said
the Gray Mahatma, looking into King's eyes.

"So is he," King answered.

"I am wondering whether or not you are honest enough to trust me," said
the Gray Mahatma.

"Why certainly!" King answered. "If you would commit yourself I would
trust you. Why not?"

"But this man would not," said