said
breathlessly. "If only I were old enough to be your friend!"

Skag remembered the father's words.

"I've never had a friend younger than myself," he answered, "and there
are only a few years difference--why not?"

Their hands met as men. And it was still early in the afternoon.

Horace went into the house and spoke with a servant. Coming out, he
took a long minute to get some excitement well in hand before speaking:

"I've arranged for one thing to show you, already! My boy will be back
from the bazaar soon, to let me know whether the time will be to-day or
to-morrow. It's a surprise--if you don't mind, Skag Sahib."

"All right, then what is the most interesting thing you know about?"
Skag asked.

"Elephants. No question."

"Have you many here in Hurda?"

"Not any belonging to Hurda; but our Chief Commissioner has forty
Government elephants in his stockades--the finest ever. Neela Deo, the
Blue God--who is the leader of the caravan--the mahouts say there isn't
an elephant in the world to touch him; and Mitha Baba and Gunpat
Rao--they're famous in all India. And Nut Kut; indeed, Skag Sahib, you
should see Nut Kut. They don't allow strangers about where he is; he's
the one--the mahouts won't let me go near him."

"What's wrong with him?" Skag asked.

"I don't know; I'm always wondering. In the beginning--when I was
little--but I don't believe it was--wrong."

The boy spoke haltingly, frowning; but went on:

"That's between Nut Kut and--Horace Dickson! I like him better than
anything I know. The mahouts have tried every way to discourage
me--yes, they have!"

"What does he do?" Skag questioned.

"You know Government does _not_ permit elephant fighting," the boy
began solemnly, "but--Nut Kut doesn't know it! His pet scheme is to
break away out of his own stockades, if there are any elephants across
the river--that's where the regiments camp--and get in among the
military elephants. He's a frightful fighter."

"How do they handle him?" Skag asked.

"It takes more than two of their best males to do it--big trained
fellows, you understand. Even then, usually, one of the great females
comes with her chain--the kind they call 'mother-things'--she handles
it with her trunk. Just one little flick across his ears and any
fighter will be willing to stop--even Nut Kut. But it's to see, Skag
Sahib; never twice the same--it can't be told."

A servant came in from the highway, salaaming befo