“Well, the head of them all is gone; he was, as you may have suspicioned yourself, that fellow Krauss.  No one knows what’s become of him.  Some say he’s in Calcutta; more think he’s dead—­died aboard ship; but that may not be true.  Them sort of ruffians generally live to a great age.  Someone may have put him out, or rather done him in.  There were two or three chaps what I’ve heard talkin’ terrible bitter agin him; and one fine young man, Ar Bo, who is back from the Andamans—­where he got sent to for three year, on account of this cocaine business—­told me that he met a lot of clever fellows from all parts of the world; up to every dodge they were, and one of them instructed him in the way of killing a man stone dead—­and not leaving a spot on him!  I believe it’s some little trick with the head, where it joins the spine.  This chap confessed that he had tried it on several with success, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he had made an experiment on Krauss!”

“But what about the cocaine?” said Shafto.  “How, are we to set about getting a haul?”

“Ye’ll have to go aisy, or rather Mr. FitzGerald and the polls must work by stealth; he can take a good few disguised, as it were on a sort of pilgrimage, but well armed, and passing through this village as it were accidental; and with a couple of boats on the river I think they might scare the lot.  I’d like to go with them meself, for a bit of sport—­only for me yellow robe, it wouldn’t look well for me to be seen mixed up with cocaine, thaves and the polls.”

“No, I suppose not,” agreed Shafto.  “You have to think of your cloth.  Well, if you will write me down a few details on this slip of paper in my notebook, I will give it to Mr. FitzGerald at once, and I can’t tell you how thankful he will be to get hold of it, or how grateful to you we are.”

“Oh, I don’t want no thanks for what has been a real pleasure.  Haven’t I seen with me own two eyes all the terrible harm this drug-takin’ leads to?  And if I’ve been in a small way the means of puttin’ a stop to some of it, I’ll be a proud man.”  He paused to clear his throat, and continued:  “I suppose, you have not seen anything of Ma Chit lately?”

“No.”

“She keeps you from goin’ to the Salters, doesn’t she?  She’s always sittin’ about there on the steps, heart-broken, because she can’t get a word wid ye!  Of course, I’m not surprised she’s took a fancy to ye.”

“Fancy!  Rot!” burst out Shafto.  “I can’t stand these cheeky Burmese girls.  I only hope I may never set eyes on Ma Chit again.”

“Well, then, as likely as not ye won’t,” remarked Mung Baw soothingly.  “She has a rich relation up at Thayetmyo, and she’s swithering between love and money.  Perhaps, after all, money will carry the day.  Well, now, I must be goin’ to me duties—­and me devotions, and I’ll bid ye good evening.”

* * * * * *