and me.

"Come with us," King urged him; but he shook his head, looking more
lionlike than ever, for in his yellow eyes now there was a blaze as of
conquest.

He carried his head like a man who has looked fear in the face and
laughed at it.

"I have my assignation to keep," he said quietly.

"You mean with death?" King asked him, and he nodded.

"Don't be too sure!"

King's retort was confident, and his smile was like the surgeon's who
proposes to reassure his patient in advance of the operation. But the
Mahatma's mind was set on the end appointed for him, and there was
neither grief nor discontent in his voice as he answered.

"There is no such thing as being too sure."

"I shall use the telegraph, of course," King assured him. "If necessary
to save your life I shall have you arrested."

The Mahatma smiled.

"Have you money?" he asked pleasantly.

"I shan't need money. I can send an official telegram."

"I meant for your own needs," said the Mahatma.

"I think I know where to borrow a few rupees," King answered. "They'll
trust me for the railway tickets."

"Pardon me, my friend. It was my fault that your bag and clothes got
separated from you. You had money in the bag. That shall be adjusted.
Never mind how much money. Let us see how much is here."

That seemed a strange way of adjusting accounts, but there was logic in
it nevertheless. There would be no use in offering us more than was
available, and as for himself, he was naked except for the saffron
smock. He had no purse, nor any way of hiding money on his person.

He opened his mouth wide and made a noise exactly like a bronze bell.
Some sort of priest came running in answer to the summons and showed no
surprise when given peremptory orders in a language of which I did not
understand one word.

Within two minutes the priest was back again bearing a tray that was
simply heaped with money, as if he had used the thing for a scoop to get
the stuff out of a treasure chest. There was all kinds--gold, silver,
paper, copper, nickel--as if those strange people simply threw into a
chest all that they received exactly as they received it.

King took a hundred-rupee note from the tray, and the Gray Mahatma waved
the rest aside. The priest departed, and a moment later I heard the
clash and chink of money falling on money; by the sound it fell quite a
distance, as if the treasure chest were an open cellar.

"Now," said the Gray Mahatma, placing a hand on