"
Then the light broke upon me, and I followed the two camels out of the Serai
till we reached open road and the priest halted.
"What d' you think o' that?" said he in English. "Carnehan can't talk their
patter, so I've made him my servant. He makes a handsome servant. 'T isn't for
nothing that I've been knocking about the country for fourteen years. Didn't I
do that talk neat? We'll hitch on to a caravan at Peshawar till we get to
Jagdallak, and then we'll see if we can get donkeys for our camels, and strike
into Kafiristan. Whirligigs for the Amir, O Lor'! Put your hand under the
camelbags and tell me what you feel."
I felt the butt of a Martini, and another and another.
"Twenty of 'em," said Dravot, placidly. "Twenty of 'em and ammunition to
correspond, under the whirligigs and the mud dolls."
"Heaven help you if you are caught with those things!" I said. "A Martini is
worth her weight in silver among the Pathans."
"Fifteen hundred rupees of capital--every rupee we could beg, borrow, or
steal--are invested on these two camels," said Dravot.
"We won't get caught. We're going through the Khaiber with a regular caravan.
Who'd touch a poor mad priest?"
"Have you got everything you want?" I asked, overcome with astonishment.
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