King of the Khyber Rifles | Page 6

who had
forced his way to the front with so much violence and haste now burst
back again toward the train like a football forward tearing through the
thick of his opponents. He scattered a swath a yard wide, for he had
shoulders like a bull. King saw him leap into third-class carriage. He
saw, too, that he was not wanted in the carriage. There was a storm of
protest from tight-packed native passengers, but the fellow had his way.
The swath through the crowd closed up like water in a ship's wake, but
it opened again for King. He smiled so humorously that the angry
jostled ones smiled too and were appeased, forgetting haste and bruises
and indignity merely because understanding looked at them through
merry eyes. All crowds are that way, but an Indian crowd more so than
all.
Taking his time, and falling foul of nobody, King marked down a
native constable--hot and unhappy, leaning with his back against the
train. He touched him on the shoulder and the fellow jumped.
"Nay, sahib! I am only constabeel--I know nothing--I can do nothing!

The teerain goes when it goes, and then perhaps we will beat these
people from the platform and make room again! But there is no
authority--no law any more--they are all gone mad!"
King wrote on a pad, tore off a sheet, folded it and gave it to him.
"That is for the Superintendent of Police at the office. Carriage number
1181, eleven doors from here--the one with the shut door and a big
Hillman inside sitting three places from the door facing the engine. Get
the Hillman! No, there is only one Hillman in the carriage. No, the
others are not his friends; they will not help him. He will fight, but he
has no friends in that carriage."
The "constabeel" obeyed, not very cheerfully. King stood to watch him
with a foot on the step of a first-class coach. Another constable passed
him, elbowing a snail's progress between the train and the crowd. He
seized the man's arm. "Go and help that man!" he ordered. "Hurry!"
Then he climbed into the carriage and leaned from the window. He
grinned as he saw both constables pounce on a third-class carriage door
and, with the yell of good huntsmen who have viewed, seize the
protesting Northerner by the leg and begin to drag him forth. There was
a fight, that lasted three minutes, in the course of which a long knife
flashed. But there were plenty to help take the knife away, and the
Hillman stood handcuffed and sullen at last, while one of his captors
bound a cut forearm. Then they dragged him away; but not before he
bad seen King at the window, and had lipped a silent threat.
"I believe you, my son!" King chuckled, half aloud. "I surely believe
you! I'll watch! Ham dekta hai!"
"Why was that man arrested?" asked an acid voice behind him; and
without troubling to turn his head, he knew that Major Hyde was to be
his carriage mate again. To be vindictive, on duty or off it, is
foolishness; but to let opportunity slip by one is a crime. He looked
glad, not sorry, as be faced about--pleased, not disappointed-- like a
man on a desert island who has found a tool.

"Why was that man arrested?" the major asked again.
"I ordered it," said King.
"So I imagined. I asked you why."
King stared at him and then turned to watch the prisoner being dragged
away; he was fighting again, striking at his captors' heads with
handcuffed wrists.
"Does he look innocent?" asked King.
"Is that your answer?" asked the major. Balked ambition is an ugly
horse to ride. He had tried for a command but had been shelved.
"I have sufficient authority," said King, unruffled. He spoke as if he
were thinking of something entirely different. His eyes were as if they
saw the major from a very long way off and rather approved of him on
the whole.
"Show me your authority, please!"
King dived into an inner pocket and produced a card that had about ten
words written on its face, above a general's signature. Hyde read it and
passed it back.
"So you're one of those, are you!" he said in a tone of voice that would
start a fight in some parts of the world and in some services. But King
nodded cheerfully, and that annoyed the major more than ever; he
snorted, closed his mouth with a snap and turned to rearrange the sheet
and pillow on his berth.
Then the train pulled out, amid a din of voices from the left--behind
that nearly drowned the panting of overloaded engine. There was a roar
of joy from the two coaches