’The Colonel is the servant of the Government.  He is sent hither and yon at a word, and must consider his own advancement. (See how much I have already learned at Nucklao!) Moreover, the Colonel I know since three months only.  I have known one Mahbub Ali for six years.  So!  To the madrissah I will go.  At the madrissah I will learn.  In the madrissah I will be a Sahib.  But when the madrissah is shut, then must I be free and go among my people.  Otherwise I die!’

‘And who are thy people, Friend of all the World?’

‘This great and beautiful land,’ said Kim, waving his paw round the little clay-walled room where the oil-lamp in its niche burned heavily through the tobacco-smoke.  ’And, further, I would see my lama again.  And, further, I need money.’

‘That is the need of everyone,’ said Mahbub ruefully.  ’I will give thee eight annas, for much money is not picked out of horses’ hooves, and it must suffice for many days.  As to all the rest, I am well pleased, and no further talk is needed.  Make haste to learn, and in three years, or it may be less, thou wilt be an aid — even to me.’

‘Have I been such a hindrance till now?’ said Kim, with a boy’s giggle.

‘Do not give answers,’ Mahbub grunted.  ’Thou art my new horse-boy.  Go and bed among my men.  They are near the north end of the station, with the horses.’

’They will beat me to the south end of the station if I come without authority.’

Mahbub felt in his belt, wetted his thumb on a cake of Chinese ink, and dabbed the impression on a piece of soft native paper.  From Balkh to Bombay men know that rough-ridged print with the old scar running diagonally across it.

‘That is enough to show my headman.  I come in the morning.’

‘By which road?’ said Kim.

’By the road from the city.  There is but one, and then we return to Creighton Sahib.  I have saved thee a beating.’

’Allah!  What is a beating when the very head is loose on the shoulders?’

Kim slid out quietly into the night, walked half round the house, keeping close to the walls, and headed away from the station for a mile or so.  Then, fetching a wide compass, he worked back at leisure, for he needed time to invent a story if any of Mahbub’s retainers asked questions.

They were camped on a piece of waste ground beside the railway, and, being natives, had not, of course, unloaded the two trucks in which Mahbub’s animals stood among a consignment of country-breds bought by the Bombay tram-company.  The headman, a broken-down, consumptive-looking Mohammedan, promptly challenged Kim, but was pacified at sight of Mahbub’s sign-manual.

‘The Hajji has of his favour given me service,’ said Kim testily.  ’If this be doubted, wait till he comes in the morning.  Meantime, a place by the fire.’