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It was almost as good, said these scamps, as riding with Curbar after evasive Afghans. Each invention kept the hearer at work for half an hour on telegrams which the sack of Delhi would hardly have justified. To every power that could move a bayonet or transfer a terrified man, Grish Chunder De appealed telegraphically.
It was a carefully thought-out speech, which would have been very valuable had not his third sentence begun with three innocent words, 'Hamara hookum hai It is my order. Then there was a laugh, clear and bell-like, from the back of the big tent, where a few border landholders sat, and the laugh grew and scorn mingled with it, and the lean, keen face of Debendra Nath De paled, and Grish Chunder turning to Tallantire spake: 'YOU you put up this arrangement. Upon that instant the noise of hoofs rang without, and there entered Curbar, the District Superintendent of Police, sweating and dusty.
He'll be furious with me for monopolising the fun, though. Those beggars in the hills won't give us any more trouble. 'Then tell the Beshaklis to go on and see what has happened to Curbar on the canal. We must patrol the whole line of the Border. You're quite sure, Tommy, that that stuff was was only the skewbald's ear? 'Oh, quite, said Tommy. 'You just missed cutting off his head.
'Oh! said Curbar, who being in the Police could not understand that fifteen years of education must, on principle, change the Bengali into a Briton. 'There has been a fight on the Border, and heaps of men are killed. There's going to be another fight, and heaps more will be killed. 'What for?
YOU must try to run the district, YOU must stand between him and as much insult as possible; YOU must show him the ropes; YOU must pacify the Khusru Kheyl, and just warn Curbar of the Police to look out for trouble by the way. I'm always at the end of a telegraph-wire, and willing to peril my reputation to hold the district together.
Noon brought two squadrons of Beshaklis and a knot of furious brother officers demanding the court-martial of Tommy Dodd for 'spoiling the picnic, and a gallop across country to the canal-works where Ferris, Curbar, and Hugonin were haranguing the terror-stricken coolies on the enormity of abandoning good work and high pay, merely because half a dozen of their fellows had been cut down.
Soured, old, worn with heat and cold, he waited till he should be entitled to sufficient pension to keep him from starving. 'Tallantire, said he, disregarding Grish Chunder De, 'come outside. I want to speak to you. They withdrew. 'It's this, continued Curbar.
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