appeared. The mudbake follows me in
to watch my movements. In the simplicity of his semi-civilized
understanding he is wondering within himself whether or no I entertain
suspicions of anything being wrong, and he is watching me closely to find
out. In his dense ignorance he imagines the khan and the mirza artful
almost beyond human comprehension, and in thinking this he no doubt
merely supplements the sentiments of these two wily individuals
themselves. Time and again on the journey from Tabbas has he joined them
in chuckling with ghoulish glee over some self-laudatory exposition of
their own deep, deep, cunning. They well know themselves to be
unfathomably cute beside the simple-hearted and honest ryots and nomads
with whom they are wont to compare themselves, and from these standards
they confidently judge the world at large. The mudbake colors up like a
guilty school-boy upon seeing me proceed without delay to examine the
leathern case. The erstwhile orderly arranged contents are found tumbled
about in dire confusion. My bag of about one hundred kerans have dwindled
nearly half that number as the result of being in their custody ten
minutes.

"Some of you pedar sags have stolen my money; who is it? where's the
khan?" I inquire, addressing the guilty-looking mud-bake. He is now
shivering visibly with fright, but makes a ludicrous effort to put a bold
face on the matter, and brazenly asks, "Chand pool" (How much is
missing?). "Khylie! where is the khan and the inirza? I will take you all
to Aminulah Khan and have you bastinadoed!" The poor mudbake turns pale
at the bare suggestion of the bastinado, and stoutly maintains his own
innocence. He would no doubt as stoutly proclaim the guilt of his
comrades if by so doing he could escape punishment himself. Nor is this
so surprising, when one reflects that either of these worthies would,
without a moment's hesitation, perform the same office for him or for
each other.

Without wasting time in bandying arguments with the mudbake, I sally
forth in search of the others, and meet them just outside the gate; they
are returning from hiding the money in the ruins. The crimson flood of
guilt overspreads their faces as I raise my finger and shake it at them
by way of admonition. With them following behind with all the meekness of
discovered guilt, I lead the way back up into the bala-khana. Arriving
there, both of them wilt so utterly and completely, and proceed to plead
for mercy