do as you say," said the Kurd, "if I take this letter to
Wassmuss, and agree with him to escort those Germans across Persia,
what, then, if you fail to get the gold? What if the Turks get the
better of you?"

"Dead men can not keep bargains!" answered Ranjoor Singh. "I shall
succeed or die. But consider again: I have led these men of mine
hither from Stamboul, deceiving and routing and outdistancing
Turkish regiments all the way. Shall I fail now, having come so
far?"

"Insha' Allah!" said the Kurd, meaning, "If God wills."

"Since when did God take sides against the brave?" Ranjoor Singh
asked him, and the Kurd said nothing; but I feared greatly because
they seemed on the verge of a religious argument, and those Kurds
are fanatics. If anything but gold had been in the balance against
him, I believe that Kurd would have defied us, for, although he did
not know what Sikhs might be, he knew us for no Musselmen. I saw his
eyes look inward, meditating treachery, not only to Wassmuss, but to
us, too. But Ranjoor Singh detected that quicker than I did.

"Let us neglect no points," he said, and the Kurd brought his mind
back with an effort from considering plans against us. "It would be
possible for me to get that gold, and for other Kurds--not you or
your men, of course, but other Kurds--to waylay me in the mountains.
Therefore let part of the agreement be that you leave with me ten
hostages, of whom two shall be your blood relations."

The Kurd winced. He was a little keen man, with, a thin face and
prominent nose; not ill-looking, but extremely acquisitive, I should
say.

"Wassmuss holds my brother hostage!" he answered grimly, as if he
had just then thought of it.

"I have a German prisoner here," said Ranjoor Singh, with the
nearest approach to a smile that he had permitted himself yet, "and
Wassmuss will be very glad to exchange him against your brother when
the time comes."

"Ah!" said the Kurd, and--

"Ah!" said Ranjoor Singh. He saw now which way the wind blew, and,
like all born cavalry leaders, he pressed his advantage.

"Do the Turks hold any of your men prisoner?" he asked.

"Aye!" said the Kurd. "They hold an uncle of mine, and my
half-brother, and seven of my best men. They keep them in jail in
fetters."

"I have five Turkish prisoners, all officers, one a bimbashi, whom I
will give you when I hand over the gold. The Turks will gladly trade
your men against their officers," Ranjoor Singh assure