Khabul and Stamboul. Doubtless they lied," the Kurd
answered.

"Doubtless!" said Ranjoor Singh. By his slow even breathing and
apparent indifference, I knew he was on a hot scent, so I tried to
appear indifferent myself, although my ears burned. The Kurds
clustering around their leader listened with ears and eyes agape.
They made no secret of their interest.

"They said they are on their way to Khabul," the Kurd continued,
"there to receive messages from Europe and acquaint the amir and his
ruling chiefs of the true condition of affairs."

"How shall they reach Afghanistan?" asked Ranjoor Singh. "Does a
road through Persia lie open to them?"

"Nay," said the Kurd. "Persia is like a nest of hornets. But they
are to receive an escort of us Kurds to take them through Persia. We
mountain Kurds are not afraid of Persians."

"Which Kurds are to provide the escort?" Ranjoor Singh asked him,
and the Kurd shook his head.

"Nay," he said, "that none can tell. It is not yet agreed. There is
small competition for the task. There are better pickings here on
the border, raiding now and then, and pocketing the gold of this
Wassmuss between-whiles! Who wants the task of escorting a machine
in a box to Khabul?"

"Nevertheless," said Ranjoor Singh, "I know of a leader and his men
who will undertake the task."

"Who, then?" said the Kurd.

"I and my men!" said Ranjoor Singh; and I held my breath until I
thought my lungs would burst. "Persia!" thought I. "Afghanistan!"
thought I. "And what beyond?"

"Ye are not Kurds," the chief answered, after he had considered a
while. "Wassmuss said the escort must consist of three hundred Kurds
or he will not pay."

"The payment shall be arranged between me and thee!" said Ranjoor
Singh. "You shall have all the gold of this next convoy, if you will
ride back to Wassmuss and agree that you and your men shall be the
escort to Afghanistan."

"Who shall guard this pass if I ride back?" the Kurd asked.

"I!" said Ranjoor Singh. "I and my men will wait here for the gold.
Leave me a few of your men to be guides and to keep peace between us
and other Kurds among these mountains. Ride and tell Wassmuss that
the gold will not come for another thirty days."

"He will not believe," said the Kurd.

"I will give you a letter," said Ranjoor Singh.

"He will not believe the letter," said the Kurd.

"What is that to thee, whether he believes it or not?" said Ranjoor
Singh. "At least he will beli