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I am a soldier! Are you a cur?" "God forbid, sahib! "Arjan Singh! Repeat that message to me word for word, please, not as a favor, nor as obeying an order, but as a friend of Ranjoor Singh to a friend of Ranjoor Singh!" "The message was to the squadron, not to me, sahib." "Are you not of the squadron?" "Make it an order, sahib!" "Certainly not nor a favor either!" "Sahib, I "

He turned out the guard, and the particular troop sergeant with whom he wished to speak not being on duty, he ordered him sent for. Ten minutes later the sergeant came, still yawning, from his cot. "Come over here, Arjan Singh," he called, thinking fast and furiously as he led the way.

What was the message given by the fat babu to one of the guard by the outer gate this evening, and delivered by him or by some other man to D Squadron?" "Sahib, it was not a written message." "Repeat it to me." "Sahib, it was verbal. I can not remember it." "Arjan Singh, you lie! Did I ever lie to you? Did I ever threaten you and not carry out my threats promise you and not keep my promise?

"Which babu, sahib?" asked Arjan Singh, unblinking. Now, in all probability, this man since he had been asleep knew nothing about the message to groom Bagh. To have answered, "The babu who spoke about the charger," might have been a serious mistake. "Arjan Singh, look me in the eyes!" he ordered, and the Sikh obeyed. He was taller than Warrington, and looked down on him.

Meanwhile, let the squadron be worthy of its salt and of its officers!"" "Was that all?" asked Warrington. "All, sahib. May my tongue rot if I lie!" "Thank you, Arjan Singh. That's all. You needn't mention our conversation. Good night." "Fooled," chuckled Warrington. "She's fooled us to the limit of our special bent, and I take it that's stiff-neckedness!"