“They’re a good gang.”

“No doubt.  We’ve all admired your ability to make men work.  But there’ll be a new maharajah in a day or two, and, strictly between you and me, as one friend to another, there’ll be a very slight chance indeed of your getting a contract from the incoming man to carry on your mining in the hills.  I’d like to save you trouble and expense.”

“Real good of you.”

“Er—­found anything down there?” Samson nodded over his shoulder toward the tunnel mouth.

“Not yet.”

“Any signs of anything?”

“Not yet.”

Samson looked relieved.

“By the way.  You mentioned the other day something about evidence relating to the murder of Mukhum Dass.”

“I did.”

“Was it anything important?”

“Maybe.  Looked so to me.”

“Would you mind giving me an outline of it?”

“You said that day you knew who murdered Mukhum Dass?”

“Yes.  When I got in this morning there was a note on my desk from Norwood, the superintendent of police, to say that they’ve arrested your butler and cook, and the murderer of Mukhum Dass all hiding together near a railway station.  The murderer has squealed, as you Americans say.  They often do when they’re caught.  He has told who put him up to it.”

“Guess I’ll give you this, then.  It’s the map out of the silver tube that Mukhum Dass burgled from my cellar.  Gungadhura gave it to me with instructions to dig here.  You’ll note there’s blood on it.”

Samson’s eyes looked hardly interested as he took it.  Then he looked, and they blazed.  He put it in his inner pocket hurriedly.

“Too bad, Blaine!” he laughed.  “So you even had a map of the treasure, eh?  Another day or two and you’d have forestalled us!  I suppose you’d a contract with Gungadhura for a share of it?”

“You bet!”

“Well—­it wasn’t registered.  I doubt if you could have enforced it.  Gungadhura is an awful rascal.”

“Gee!” lied Dick.  “I never thought of that!  I had my other contract registered all right—­in your office—­you remember?”

“Yes.  I warned you at the time about Gungadhura.”

“You did.  I remember now.  You did.  Well, I suppose the wife and I’ll be heading for the U. S. A. soon, richer by the experience.  Still—­I reckon I’ll wait around and see the new maharajah in the saddle, and watch what comes of it.”

“You’ve no chance, Blaine, believe me!”

“All right, I’ll think it over.  Meanwhile, I’ll whistle off these men.”

The next man Samson interviewed was Willoughby de Wing.