The Talbot Mundy Megapack. Talbot Mundy

orderly returned to his stool by the door, grumbling about the trails of a man who seeks to rise in his profession, and Narayan Singh, with his mind at least quite relieved, dropped off into the land of dreams, from which he was awakened at intervals by the sound of Suliman’s voice behind the tent quarreling with two other urchins about the ever changing rules of chance.

      At the end of an hour or two, when all the money in sight had found its way into Suliman’s pocket, the three boys sat back against the tent to smoke stale cigar butts and gossip. It was in that way that Narayan Singh picked up some information that he put to good use later on.

      * * * *

      Jim meanwhile met Catesby coming into camp ahead of Ibrahim Charkas, who was in charge of the provost’s men.

      “There’s one thing for you to do now,” he said. “Get conclusive proof of where you were on the afternoon of the third between four and five o’clock. The buffalo is going to blunder. I can see it coming.”

      “That’s easy.”

      “Get your proof then, and keep it absolutely to yourself.”

      Jim still had one small errand before he could go to sleep himself. He went to General Anthony’s marquee, and found to his delight that Jenkins was there ahead of him. The Zionist-journalist Aaronsohn was in there too, looking horribly uncomfortable in a thin-lipped, calm and collected way. Jenkins was still holding forth.

      “The evidence is all in. I’ve asked the provost-marshal to exert himself in rounding up that list of Charkas’ men. Charkas himself will swear that he was paid by the Zionists to steal rifles for them. The rifles were found in the Zionists’ store. What more do you want?”

      General Anthony uncrossed his legs and recrossed them, tapping on his desk with a pencil. He said nothing—not at all a rare habit of his.

      “I’ve one thing more to add,” said Jenkins. “I saw Charkas fifteen minutes ago. He tells me Major Grim has found the original memorandum from the R.T.O to me about the TNT that was stolen—found it in Charkas’ desk. Charkas proposes to turn king’s witness, and he vows he had the memorandum from Captain Catesby, to whom he paid money for it.”

      Anthony looked visible distressed. Jim tried hard to do the same.

      “Don’t you think we’d better cancel that parole altogether and order Catesby under close arrest?” said Jenkins stiffly.

      Butter would not have melted in his mouth. You could tell at a glance how he hated to be mixed up, even in a judicial way, with such abominable misconduct in an officer.

      “Yes,” said Anthony. “Yes, yes, I’m afraid so.”

      He took pen and paper.

      “One moment, sir,” Jim interposed. “May I ask a question?”

      “Fire away, Grim.”

      “Not you, sir; General Jenkins.”

      “Well?”

      There was fire in Jinks’ eyes, by way of reminder that he who can break captains can break majors just as easily. But Jim’s first words disarmed suspicion.

      “About Charkas. He told me a long-winded story. I didn’t write it down, but from memory I should say it bears out certain points of which you’ve just said.”

      Jenkins almost purred aloud. This was the handsome way to make amends. He there and then forgave Jim even that left-handed apology on the railway-station platform.

      “Charkas told me among other things how he came to know about the existence of that railway memorandum. If what he said is true it may help cinch the case.

      “He says you were down on the afternoon of the third; that he followed you up, because he wanted to ask some sort of favor; that you and he reached your office at about the same time; and that he saw you receive and open the memorandum. He says you laid it down for a minute, but he didn’t have time to more than glance at it. So he formed the idea of getting hold of it somehow in order to learn the exact details. Does that correspond with your recollection of that afternoon?”

      “Yes, I think it does. Yes, I did meet the train that day. Yes, I remember Charkas came to the office to bother me about something.”

      “About five o’clock, he said.”

      “Must have been almost exactly five o’clock.”

      Anthony began scribbling on a pad.

      “Are you definite on that point, General Jenkins?”

      “Certainly. My memory’s exact. Charkas must have gone straight to Catesby and got the memorandum from him, because I gave Catesby his orders—as I explained at the time when the theft was discovered—within twenty minutes of receiving the memorandum.”

      Anthony drew out a file of papers from a drawer of his desk, and turned them over slowly.

      “I see you say in your original complaint against Catesby—made while I was away in Egypt—that you were not sure of the exact time when you gave him the memorandum and orders to take over the TNT.”

      “I remember now, though. Grim’s question brought the facts to mind.”

      “You’re ready to swear to it now at the court martial?”

      “Certainly.”

      “Very well. Have Catesby rearrested. Is there anything else, Grim?”

      “The iblis, sir. I interviewed him last night.”

      “The deuce you did!”

      “I’ve evidence enough against him to call for his arrest on military grounds.”

      “All right. I’ll sign a warrant. Do you know where he is?”

      “Not at the moment.”

      “Are you sure we can convict him?”

      “Perfectly.”

      Without more ado Anthony began to fill out a regulation form.

      “Better describe him as ‘a person unknown—colored—believed to be a leper—accused of plotting to loot the military camp.’ There.”

      He handed it to Jim. The printed portion was couched in the customary legal verbiage intended to convey the meaning without too formal crudity, that the prisoner should be caught, brought in and delivered alive or dead.

      Jim put it in his pocket and went to his tent to sleep until late afternoon. Brigadier-General Jenkins, on the other hand, after restating his opinion of the Zionists for Aaronsohn’s benefit, marched down to the place where they confined civilian prisoners, to see Charkas alone and drill him on his part. A very cautious, forehanded brigadier was Albert Jenkins, although given to expressing triumph rather sooner than was wise.

      He had the ill taste to laugh aloud on his way back, as he passed Catesby in his tent, this time with two armed sentries standing on guard in front of it.

      CHAPTER XIII

      “The chain’s complete.”

      It was growing dark when Jim emerged from his tent feeling less at ease than he cared to admit to himself. A note had come from Catesby, who was now to all intents and purposes incommunicado, to the effect that from five until six on the evening of the third he had been inquiring, at Jenkins’ verbal request, into an accident that had taken place several days previously. A civilian had had his leg broken by a gun-wheel, and civilian witnesses had been difficult to find; but he had unearthed one, and was questioning him at the time when Jenkins pretended he had given the order about the TNT. Now he could not find the man again to prove the fact.

      Jim had the note in his hand. As Catesby’s next friend he had the right to visit him in any circumstances, just as a lawyer may go to his client in jail.

      Things looked pretty bad at the moment. Bull-buffalo Jenkins was caught