been used for the map and the margin notes.  But that’s new blood or my name’s Mike!  That blood’s not a week old!  Phew!  I bet it’s that poor devil Mukhum Dass!  Now—­ let’s figure on this:  Mukhum Dass burgled my house, and was murdered about an hour afterward.  I think—­I can’t swear, because he didn’t let me hold it, but I think that tube in Gungadhura’s hand was the very identical one that I hid under the cellar floor—­that Mukhum Dass stole—­and that the maharajah now carries in his pocket.  This map has blood on it.  What’s the inference?”

He filled his pipe and smoked reflectively.

“The inference is, that I’m accessory after the fact to the money-lender’s murder, unless” —

He finished the pipe, and knocked the ashes out.

“—­unless I break my promise, and hand this piece of evidence over to Norwood.  I guess he’s arch-high-policeman here.”

As if the guardian angel of Dick’s conscience was at work that very minute to torment him, there came the sound of an approaching horse, and Samson turned the corner into view.

“Oh, hullo, Blaine!  How’s the gold developing?”

“So-so.  Have they found the murderer of Mukhum Dass yet?”

Samson dropped his reins to light a cigar, and took his time about it.

“Not exactly.”

“Hum!  You either exactly find the murderer, or you don’t!”

“We’ve our suspicions.”

“Leading anywhere?”

“Too soon to say.”

“If I was to offer to put you next to a piece of pretty evidence, how’d that suit you?”

Samson had to relight the cigar, in order to get opportunity to read Dick’s face before he answered.

“I don’t think so, Blaine, thank you—­at least not at present.  If you’ve direct evidence of an eye-witness, of course—­”

“Nothing like that,” said Dick.

“Well, I’ll be candid with you, Blaine.  We know quite well who the murderer is.  At the right moment we shall land on him hammer and tongs.  But you see—­we need to choose the right moment, for political reasons.  Now—­technically speaking—­all evidence in criminal cases ought to go to the police, and the police might act too hastily—­you understand me?”

“If you know who the man is, of course,” said Dick, “there’s nothing more I need do.”

“Except to be discreet, Blaine!  Please be discreet!  We shall get the man.  Don’t doubt it!  You and your wife have set us all an example here of minding nobody’s business except your own.  I’d be awfully obliged if you’d keep yourself as far as possible out of this mess.  Should we need any further evidence than we’ve got already, I’d ask you for it, of course.”

“Suits me all right,” said Dick.  “I’m mum.”

“Thanks awfully, Blaine.  Can I offer you a cigar?  I’m on my way to take a look at the fort.  Seems like an anachronism, doesn’t it, for us to keep an old-fashioned fort like this so near our own border in native territory.  Care to come with me?  Well, so long then—­see you at the club again, I suppose?”