em.

"A hundred," he said.

Dermot laid on the table a new automatic pistol and several clips of
cartridges.

"Bhuttias from across the border do not possess weapons like these, as you
know. Nor do they carry English-made pocket-books with contents like those
this one has."

He handed a leather case to Granger who opened it and took out a packet of
bank notes and counted them. "Eight hundred and fifty rupees," he said.

The men around him looked at the notes and at each other. A young engineer
whistled and said: "Whew! It pays to be a brigand. I'll turn robber myself,
I think. Poor but honest man that I am I have never gazed on so much wealth
before. Hullo! What's that bit of string?"

Dermot had taken from his pocket the cord that he had cut from the corpse
of the second raider and laid it on the table.

"Perhaps some of you may not be sufficiently well acquainted with Indian
customs to know what this is."

"I'm blessed if I am, Major," said the engineer. "What is it?"

"It's the _janeo_, or sacred cord worn by the three highest of the
original Hindu castes as a symbol of their second or spiritual birth and
to mark the distinction between their noble twice-born selves and the
lower caste once-born Sudras. You see it is made up of three strings of
spun cotton to symbolise the Hindu _Trimurti_ (Trinity), Brahma, Vishnu,
and Siva, and also Earth, Air, and Heaven, the three worlds pervaded by
their essence."

"Oh, I see. But where did you get it?" asked the engineer.

"Off the body of the second man that I shot, together with the pistol and
pocket-book. Now, Bhuttias do not wear the _janeo_, not being Hindus. But
high-caste Hindus do--and a Brahmin would never be without it."

"Oh, no. So you mean that the man wasn't a Bhuttia?"

"This is the last exhibit, as they say in the Law Courts," said Dermot,
producing a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles. "You don't find Bhuttias
wearing these."

"By Jove, no," said Granger, taking them up and trying them. "Damned good
glasses, these, and cost a bit, too."

Dermot turned towards Daleham.

"Do you remember showing me on this garden one day a coolie whom you said
was a B.A. of Calcutta University?"

"Yes; he was called Narain Dass," replied Fred. "We spoke to him, you
recollect, Major? He talked excellent English of the _babu_ sort."

"What has happened to him?"

"I don't know. He disappeared a short time ago. Deserted, I suppose, though
I don't see why he should