He and Narayan Singh took delight in the brat's iniquities, seeing precocious intelligence where other folk denounced hereditary vice.

I had a scar on my thumb where the little beast had bitten me on one occasion when I did not dare yell or retaliate, and, along with the majority, I condemned him cordially.
"Who's his friend ?" asked Grim.
"Abdullah." Now Abdullah was worse than Suliman.

He had no friends at all, anywhere, that anybody knew of.

Possibly nine years old, he had picked up all the evil that a boy can learn behind the lines of a beaten Turkish army officered by Germans--which is almost the absolute of evil--and had added that to natural depravity.
"Let Abdullah come," said Grim.

"But beat Suliman first of all for weeping.