g answered absently--unwilling to realise the necessity.

Cadman studied the crestfallen face--they had loved this life together
and equally.

"But do you realise, my son," he asked, "that others will have to see us,
before we can ever again be clothed and groomed properly?"

Now Skag looked at his friend with seeing eyes and blushed.

"It's not the clothes, so much as--" Skag stopped.

Cadman focused on Skag's face through his queer spectacles, then he
laughed as only Cadman could laugh.

So they climbed down and took train for Bombay. Like fugitives they
dodged the sight of correctly dressed Englishmen all the way; stopping
over more than seven hours at Kullian--so as to reach the great city at
night.

Next morning two clean-faced and very much alive Americans arrived at the
Polo Club for late breakfast. Indeed they were good to look at, being in
the finest kind of health and full of initiative. That breakfast was
royal in every flavour; they felt like young spendthrifts squandering
their patrimony. Just as they were finishing, a distinguished looking
Englishman came across the room and greeted Cadman:

"Now this is my own proverbial good luck! Come away up to the house and
give account of yourself. Where are the pictures? We'll take 'em along."

Cadman presented Skag to Doctor Murdock of the University, explained that
it was imperative for them to do some general outfitting, but promised to
bring his friend in the afternoon.

"Doctor Murdock is an extraordinary man, Skag," said Cadman, as the
Englishman hurried away. "Beside his chair in the University, he is said
to be top surgeon of Bombay. Barring none, he has more of different
kinds of knowledge than any man I know; becomes master of whatever he
takes up--authority, past question."

"I wondered why you promised to take me along," Skag put in.

"You'll be glad to have met him. He'll be interested in you," Cadman
answered. "He's quite likely to take us to see some of the Indian
nautch-girls. They're one of his fads--for their beauty. He has
specialties in art as well as in science; but he's clean stuff--nothing
rotten in him."

They forgot time in the Bombay bazaars; first looking for bags, to be
easily carried on their own persons; and then giving themselves to
quality and workmanship in things designed for their special uses. There
was no hurry. All life stretched before them, in widening vistas.

Doctor Murdock's house was high on