Yet--two hundred and eight camels would have been an acquisition--a great acquisition!" So my self-esteem departed--like water from a leaky goatskin, and I lay beside him watching the last dozen camels cross our trail, the nose of one tied to the tail of another, one man to every two.

I lay conjecturing what might have been our fate had I had cunning enough to capture that whole caravan, and not another word was spoken between us until the last two camels disappeared beyond a ridge.
Then: "Was there any man close by, when you found me ?" asked Ranjoor Singh.
"Nay, sahib," said I.
"Was there any man whose actions, or whose words, gave ground for suspicion ?" he asked.
"Nay, sahib," I began; but I checked myself, and he noticed it.
"Except-- ?" said he.
"Except that when Gooja Singh came," I said, "he seemed unwilling to believe you were asleep." "How long was it before Gooja Singh came ?" he asked.
"He came almost before I had laid you under the tree and covered you," said I.
"And you told him I was asleep ?" he said.
"Yes," said I; and at that he laughed silently, although I could tell well enough that his head ached, and merriment must have been a long way from him.
"Has Gooja Singh any very firm friend with us ?" he asked, and I answered I did not know of one.

"The ammunition bearers who were his friends now curse him to his face," I said.
"Then he would have to do his own dirty work ?" said he.
"He has to clean his own rifle," I answered.

And Ranjoor Singh nodded.
Then suddenly his meaning dawned on me.

"You think it was Gooja Singh who struck the blow ?" I asked.