What did I say? Told him to call to-morrow, of course--
said I'd see. Gad! You should have heard him swear then--thought his
eyes 'ud burn holes in my tunic. Went careering out of the office as
if war had been declared."
"Talking of war," said somebody, nursing a long drink under the
swinging punkah, "do you suppose--"
So the manners of India's pet cavalry were forgotten at once in the
vortex of the only topic that had interest for any one in clubdom,
and it was not noticed whether Warrington or his colonel, or any
other officer of native cavalry looked in at the club that night.
* * * * *
Warrington rode into the rain at the same speed at which he had
galloped to the police station, overhauled one of the mounted
troopers whom he himself had sent in search of Ranjoor Singh, rated
him soundly in Punjabi for loafing on the way, and galloped on with
the troop-horse laboring in his wake. He reined in abreast of the
second trooper, who had halted by a cross-street and was trying to
appear to enjoy the deluge.
"Any word?" asked Warrington.
"I spoke with two who said he entered by that door-that small door
down the passage, sahib, where there is no light. It is a teak door,
bolted and with no keyhole on the outside."
"Good for you," said Warrington, glancing quickly up and down the
wet street, where the lamps gleamed deceptively in pools of running
water.
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