I come in the morning.' 'By which road ?' said Kim.
'By the road from the city.

There is but one, and then we return to Creighton Sahib.

I have saved thee a beating.' 'Allah! What is a beating when the very head is loose on the shoulders ?' Kim slid out quietly into the night, walked half round the house, keeping close to the walls, and headed away from the station for a mile or so.

Then, fetching a wide compass, he worked back at leisure, for he needed time to invent a story if any of Mahbub's retainers asked questions.
They were camped on a piece of waste ground beside the railway, and, being natives, had not, of course, unloaded the two trucks in which Mahbub's animals stood among a consignment of country-breds bought by the Bombay tram-company.

The headman, a broken-down, consumptive-looking Mohammedan, promptly challenged Kim, but was pacified at sight of Mahbub's sign-manual.
'The Hajji has of his favour given me service,' said Kim testily.