thlyn's father, "this chap Ramabai wouldn't make a
bad king. And look!" excitedly. "There's the sacred elephant, and if
he isn't white, I'll eat my hat!"

Kathlyn sighed gratefully. That her father could be interested in
anything was a good sign for the future. A few days' rest and
wholesome food would put him half-way on his legs. Her own vitality
was an inheritance from her father. The male line of the family was
well known for its recuperative powers.

The servant ran back into the compound and spoke to a dignified man,
who proved to be a high caste Brahmin, having in his charge the care of
the white elephant. He disappeared and returned soon with the Khan.
The pleasant face, though proudly molded, together with the simplicity
of his appearance, conveyed to Kathlyn the fact that here was a man to
be trusted, at least for the present. He greeted Ramabai cordially,
struck his hands and ordered out the servants to take charge of what
luggage there was and to lead away the elephants to be fed and watered.

Courteously he asked Kathlyn how she had become injured and Ramabai
acted as interpreter. He then ushered them into his house, spread rugs
and cushions for them to sit upon and mildly inquired what had brought
the son of his old friend so far.

Colonel Hare spoke several dialects fluently and briefly told (between
sips of tea and bites of cakes which had been set out for the guests)
his experiences in Allaha.

"The rulers of Allaha," observed Bala Khan, "have always been half mad."

Ramabai nodded in agreement.

"You should never have gone back," went on Bala Khan, lighting a
cigarette and eying Kathlyn with wonder and interest. "Ah, that Durga
Ram whom they call Umballa! I have heard of him, but fortunately for
him our paths have not crossed in any way." He blew a cloud of smoke
above his head. "Well, he has shown wisdom in avoiding me. In front
of me, a desert; behind me, verdant hills and many sheep and cattle,
well guarded. I am too far away for them to bother. Sometimes the
desert thieves cause a flurry, but that is nothing. It keeps the
tulwar from growing rusty," patting the great knife at his side.

Bala Khan was muscular; his lean hands denoted work; his clear eyes,
the sun and the wind. He was in height and building something after
the pattern of the colonel.

"And to force a crown on me!" said the colonel.

"You could have given it to this Umballa."

"That I would not do."

"