Major Hawke soon became aware that nothing succeeds like success.

Not only did all the flaneurs of the Chandnee Chouk seize upon him, but, from passing carriages, bright, roguish eyes merrily challenged him as the hot-hearted English Mem-Sahibs whirled by.
Rumor had magnified the importance of Major Alan Hawke's secret service appointment, and the wanderer was astounded when the highest official of the Delhi College gravely saluted him.
"By Gad! I believe that I am really becoming respectable!" laughed the delighted major.

His uncertain past seemed to be fast fading away in the glow of the skillfully hinted official promotion.

"I wonder now if old Ram Lal has a hold on my canny friend, Hugh Fraser Johnstone--Sir Hugh to be! Perhaps they are like all the rest of us--rascals of the same grade, but only in different ways.

The old jewel matters! I must look to this and watch Ram Lal!" The returned Anglo-Indian carelessly nodded to the group of men gathered in the club's lounging-room as he entered.
Designedly, he loudly demanded to know if his traps had arrived.