"
"But I'm going into the Indian Desert," I explained.
"Well and good," said he. "You'll be changing at Marwar Junction to get into
Jodhpore territory,--you must do that,--and he'll be coming through Marwar
Junction in the early morning of the 24th by the Bombay Mail. Can you be at
Marwar Junction on that time? 'T won't be inconveniencing you, because I know
that there's precious few pickings to be got out of these Central India
States--even though you pretend to be correspondent of the 'Backwoodsman.' "
"Have you ever tried that trick?" I asked.
"Again and again, but the Residents find you out, and then you get escorted to
the Border before you've time to get your knife into them. But about my friend
here. I must give him a word o' mouth to tell him what's come to me, or else
he won't know where to go. I would take it more than kind of you if you was to
come out of Central India in time to catch him at Marwar Junction, and say to
him, 'He has gone South for the week.' He'll know what that means. He's a big
man with a red beard, and a great swell he is.
You'll find him sleeping like a gentleman with all his luggage round him in a
Second-class apartment. But don't you be afraid.
Slip down the window and say, 'He has gone South for the week,' and he'll
tumble.
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