he _bhumia_ of
Jhaswara, had taken service under the Thakur Sahib of Palitana. The case
was an old one, and the chances of identification misty, but the
suspected was caught and brought in, and one of the leading native
barristers of the Bombay Bar was retained to defend him. He said nothing
and continued to say nothing, and the case fell through. He is believed
to be "wanted" now for a fresh murder committed within the last few
months, out Bikanir way.

And now that the train has reached Ajmir, the Crewe of Rajputana,
whither shall a tramp turn his feet? The Englishman set his stick on
end, and it fell with its point Northwest as nearly as might be. This
being translated, meant Jodhpur, which is the city of the Houyhnhnms. If
you would enjoy Jodhpur thoroughly, quit at Ajmir the decent
conventionalities of "station" life, and make it your business to move
among gentlemen--gentlemen in the Ordnance or the Commissariat, or,
better still, gentlemen on the Railway. At Ajmir, gentlemen will tell
you what manner of place Jodhpur is, and their accounts, though
flavoured with oaths, are amusing. In their eyes the desert that rings
the city has no charms, and they discuss affairs of the State, as they
understand them, in a manner that would curl the hair on a Political's
august head. Jodhpur has been, but things are rather better now, a
much-favoured camping ground for the light-cavalry of the Road--the
loafers with a certain amount of brain and great assurance. The
explanation is simple. There are more than four hundred horses in His
Highness's city stables alone; and where the Houyhnhnm is, there also
will be the Yahoo. This is sad but true.

Besides the Uhlans who come and go on Heaven knows what mysterious
errands, there are bag-men travelling for the big English firms. Jodhpur
is a good customer, and purchases all sorts of things, more or less
useful, for the State or its friends. These are the gentlemen to know,
if you would understand something of matters which are not written in
reports.

The Englishman took a train from Ajmir to Marwar Junction, which is on
the road to Mount Abu, westward from Ajmir, and at five in the morning,
under pale moonlight, was uncarted at the beginning of the Jodhpur State
Railway--one of the quaintest little lines that ever ran a locomotive.
It is the Maharaja's very own, and pays about ten per cent; but its
quaintness does not lie in these things. It is worked with rude economy,
and sta