"
"By gad, Warrington! You don't know how near that guess is to the
truth!"
Kirby's lips were smiling, but his voice was hard. Warrington
glanced quickly at him once and then looked serious.
"You mean--"
"Yes," said Kirby.
"Has it broken yet?"
"No."
"Is it goin' to break?"
"Looks like it. Looks to me as if it's all been prearranged. Our
crowd are sparring for time, and the Prussians are all in a hurry.
Looks that way to me."
"And you mean--there's a chance--even a chance of us--of Outram's
Own bein' out of it? Beg your pardon, sir, but are you serious?"
"Yes," said Kirby, and Warrington's jaw fell.
"Any details that are not too confidential for me to know?" asked
Warrington.
"Tell you all about it after I've had a word with Ranjoor Singh."
"Hadn't I better go and help look for him?"
"Yes, if you like."
So, within another certain number of split seconds, Captain Charlie
Warrington rode, as the French say, belly-to-the-earth, and the fact
that the monsoon chose that instant to let pour another Noah's deluge
seemed to make no difference at all to his ardor or the pace to which
he spurred his horse.
An angry police officer grumbled that night at the club about the
arrogance of all cavalrymen, but of one Warrington in particular.
"Wanted to know, by the Big Blue Bull of Bashan, whether I knew when
a case was serious or not! Yes, he did! Seemed to think the murder of
one sowar was the only criminal case in all Delhi, and had the nerve
to invite me to set every constable in what he termed my parish on
the one job.
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