at besiege the picket-line of the travelling potentate's guards and
secretaries--among the wild-eyed genii of Arabian Afternoons that
gather to make astounding and egregrious demands upon the prince's
coffers.

I first saw Mr. Polk coming down the steps of the hotel at which
sojourned His Highness the Gaekwar of Baroda, most enlightened of the
Mahratta princes, who, of late, ate bread and salt in our Metropolis
of the Occident.

Lucullus moved rapidly, as though propelled by some potent moral force
that imminently threatened to become physical. Behind him closely
followed the impetus--a hotel detective, if ever white Alpine hat,
hawk's nose, implacable watch chain, and loud refinement of manner
spoke the truth. A brace of uniformed porters at his heels preserved
the smooth decorum of the hotel, repudiating by their air of
disengagement any suspicion that they formed a reserve squad of
ejectment.

Safe on the sidewalk, Lucullus Polk turned and shook a freckled fist
at the caravansary. And, to my joy, he began to breathe deep invective
in strange words:

"Rides in howdahs [22], does he?" he cried loudly and sneeringly. "Rides
on elephants in howdahs and calls himself a prince! Kings--yah! Comes
over here and talks horse till you would think he was a president; and
then goes home and rides in a private dining-room strapped onto an
elephant. Well, well, well!"

[FOOTNOTE 22: howdah--a seat, often with a canopy, for riding an
elephant or camel]

The ejecting committee quietly retired. The scorner of princes turned
to me and snapped his fingers.

"What do you think of that?" he shouted derisively. "The Gaekwar
of Baroda rides on an elephant in a howdah! And there's old Bikram
Shamsher Jang scorching up and down the pig-paths of Khatmandu on a
motor-cycle. Wouldn't that maharajah you? And the Shah of Persia, that
ought to have been Muley-on-the-spot for at least three, he's got the
palanquin habit. And that funny-hat prince from Korea--wouldn't you
think he could afford to amble around on a milk-white palfrey once
in a dynasty or two? Nothing doing! His idea of a Balaklava charge
is to tuck his skirts under him and do his mile in six days over the
hog-wallows of Seoul in a bull-cart. That's the kind of visiting
potentates that come to this country now. It's a hard deal, friend."

I murmured a few words of sympathy. But it was uncomprehending, for I
did not know his grievance against the ruler