"That is right. But thugs will strangle almost anybody if they find suitable time and place, because they believe in Kali."
Biff was putting the ruby back into its bag. Chandra paused to hand him the chain with the waterproof bag, suggesting that he put the packet in that, which Biff decided was a good idea. As they started on again, Biff urged:
"Tell us more about this Kali business, Chandra."
"People say Kali was a great goddess who killed a huge monster that wanted to destroy the world," Chandra related. "But each drop of monster blood sprang up into a new monster. So Kali taught men to strangle monsters with a special cloth calledrumal, about this long"—Chandra spread his hands approximately a yard apart—"and after monsters were all gone, men began to strangle men in the same way, never shedding any blood. And so they do today."
"But all that was stopped a hundred years ago—"
"You mean the time when British Raj said there should be no morethugee? Look there"—Chandra stopped abruptly and pointed to an anthill at the side of the road—"and you see white ants. They are dangerous, like thugs, so I stamp them out." Roughly, Chandra trampled the anthill and the insects teeming around it. "But are they all stamped out? No, some have gone under—how do you say it?"
"Underground," returned Biff.
"That is it," nodded Chandra. "That is the way the thugs went.Underground. Now they have come up again."
"But why do they want the ruby for Kali?"
"Because they think that rubies are drops of demon blood that will become new demons unless Kali stops them. Your ruby would make biggest demon of all, so they want it most. So Jinnah Jad tells me."
"How many thugs do you think were on the train with us, Chandra?" Biff asked.
"There always must be three," declared Chandra. "Two to use therumalwhile the third holds the person they strangle. Always, they pick some quiet place. Often they work in many secret bands, so they have a special call, which Jinnah Jad has heard and warned me against. It goes like this—"
Stopping short, Chandra tilted his head back and gave a long, weird howl, "Hyyyyaaaaahhhh!" that sent shivers up Biff's spine, despite the increasing warmth of the morning. Biff pulled off his big turban and mopped his forehead.
Kamuka, too, was impressed. Never in the jungle of his own native Amazon had the Brazilian boy heard a cry as strange as that. It was a curious cross between a human shriek for help and an animal's anguished wail. In jungle or village, it would strike a familiar, yet fearful note.
But as Biff and Kamuka stared in silence, Chandra's own face turned suddenly tense. From beyond the bend in the narrow road behind them came a distant, echoing answer:
"Hyyyyaaaaahhhh!"
It was Biff who broke the grim hush.
"Try it again, Chandra. Let's see how close they are."
Chandra repeated the call in a louder wail that must have carried farther, for now the answer came, not from behind them, but from the jungle reaches up ahead. To the startled boys, their plight was all too grimly plain.
On a forgotten road, walled on both sides by solid jungle, they were trapped between two murderous bands of approaching thugs!
VIIThe Temple of Kali
As the boys stood rooted, the strange cries came again; first from one direction, then the other. But now there was a change in their weird tones. They trailed longer, as though the thugs were telling each other something, perhaps that they had helpless victims caught between.
Both Kamuka and Chandra sensed it. Kamuka was for taking to the jungle, a setting that he knew so well, even though it meant facing creatures different from those in Brazil. Chandra was willing to go along with that, but Biff overruled them with a single vote.
"They'd start beating the brush for us," he argued, "and that would only drive us deeper. It's not going into the jungle that I mind; it's our chance of ever coming out."
He was beckoning the other boys along the road as he added: "We must keep ahead of that bunch behind us, because they are really hot on our trail. Those up front are farther away, even though they are coming toward us. We may still have time to find a clearing where we can hide, or better still, some jungle path."
Tensely, the boys quickened their pace. The road here was winding more sharply, for it was veering in among the low-lying hills. As they passed a turn in the road, Biff pointed ahead to a gap in the thick jungle, exclaiming, "That may be it!"
Again, long trailing cries came from both directions as though taunting Biff's hopes. The call from in back was still as far behind, but the one ahead was much closer. Gritting his teeth, Biff muttered for his own benefit, "This will have to be a path—or else!"
It was a path, but a rocky one, leading up a steep slope that flanked the road. But the boys took to it eagerly, climbing rapidly despite their packs, so as to reach the first spot where the path itself made a sharp turn amid the thick foliage.
Once there, they were out of sight from the road below, so they paused for a breather while they dipped water from a little stream that tumbled down among the rocks beside the zigzag path.
Biff asked Chandra, "Any idea where this path may take us?"
"Maybe nowhere," responded Chandra glumly. "It may just be an old stream gone dry."
"I don't think so." Kamuka studied the course of the stream with a practiced eye. "Look at the smooth rocks here in the stream, yet all those on the path are rough. If water came up there a lot, they would be smooth, too."
Chandra still was doubtful until Kamuka pointed far up the path.
"See where the path takes a short cut over the little hump of ground?" he said. "The stream would go around that, even in the wet season. This is a path, all right."
"And we'd better be using it," Biff put in, "before those thugs get the same idea."
Low calls of "Hyyaahh" from both directions down on the road below indicated that the pursuing groups were close together, probably closing what they thought were the jaws of a trap. Now that they had regained their wind, the boys lost no time in resuming their climb, this time at a steady, even speed that they were sure would keep them well ahead.
Kamuka was correct about the path. It was a real one, for soon it veered away from the stream entirely and brought the boys to a jutting promontory that gave them a good view over the green wave of the jungle slope below. There they rested again, while Biff traced the course of the road that they had left.
"If we could only cut across and strike the road a few miles up the line," he said, "we would really shake off those thugs. But no such luck, I guess. We'd never hack our way through all that growth. Let's stick to the path."
Sticking to the path meant further climbing, but it proved short, as the top of the hill was only a little way above. As they reached the final hump and emerged from the thick foliage, the boys stopped in surprise. Perched on the summit was a ruined temple, its white marble steps showing through the tangled underbrush, which was climbing up the battered pillars and weather-worn walls.
[Illustration:Perched on the summit was a ruined temple]
A corner of the tiled roof had fallen in and a tree projected there instead of a small dome, one of a group surrounding a larger central dome, which was also in a battered state. As the boys reached the steps, there was a sudden chatter from within the ruined temple, and troupes of monkeys scampered out through the holes in the roof and the long window slits in the walls.
"A good hiding place," decided Chandra, "if the monkeys have been using it as their home."
"Then we can lie low here," Biff said, "until after the thugs have gone."
They were entering through a fancifully tiled archway as Biff spoke. Chandra extended a restraining hand as Biff turned toward an inner corner, where a battered stone railing marked a stairway leading to a floor below.
"Be careful where you lie low," warned Chandra. "These old places are alive with deadly cobras."
"But how can the monkeys live with the snakes?"
"They don't. Monkeys stay up there"—Chandra pointed to a balcony where tiny faces and quick little eyes were peering through what was left of a once ornamental railing—"and the cobras live in the pits below."
Biff saw that the stairway was blocked by broken chunks from the floor, but he eased away on the chance that a poisonous snake might be lurking in the rubble. Kamuka, meanwhile, had crossed the floor to a small domed platform that was reached by steps leading up from three sides. Kamuka called:
"Biff," he called. "Come look! See who is here!"
Biff joined Kamuka and stared up at the most hideous idol he had ever seen. It was carved from a dark wood and had white, glaring eyes formed of tiny pearls with a jet-black stone in the center. Larger pearls formed the teeth of an open mouth, from which a carved, red-painted tongue extended.
The ferocious image had four arms extended from its body. One hand held an actual knife with jeweled handle and long curved blade, as though ready for a downward stroke. Another hand was raised in a warning gesture. The third dangled a carved human head. The fourth hand was thrust slightly forward and was cupped, but empty.
From the idol's neck hung a chain of human skulls, forming a huge, grotesque necklace. Biff had already guessed the identity of the carved horror, when Chandra arrived and gasped the name: "Kali!"
Biff stared at Chandra, wondering why he was so shaken. In a frightened tone, Chandra exclaimed:
"This temple is old and broken, but the idol is a new one! We can't hide here! This is where the thugs themselves meet to worship Kali. They have driven us up into their trap, and they will come here to hunt us down. See that hand, Biff, the one like a cup? It is supposed to hold blood, so it is waiting for the big ruby that you carry!"
An odd fascination had gripped Biff as he studied the hideous figure ofKali. He snapped out of it now.
"What are we waiting for?" he demanded. "Let's get out of here!"
They couldn't go out the way they had come in. Already, a long-drawn cry was sounding from the path leading up to the temple. It was answered almost from the doorway, and the boys realized now that other members of the Kali cult must have been lurking in the fringes of the jungle, watching their arrival.
Kamuka, quick as ever, pointed out a corner stairway leading up to a stone balcony in the rear wall, just above the Kali statue. Sunlight shone through a slitted window that was located there. Grabbing their belongings, the boys raced up the steps, then along the balcony, where they jumped its broken gaps. They reached the window slit and squeezed themselves through to a narrow outer ledge, where they pressed their backs against the wall and stared downward hopelessly.
They were high up in the temple now, the equivalent of about three floors in an ordinary building. There, a full thirty feet below, was a stone court at the rear of the temple wall. The paving was cracked, but as hard as ever—anything but a happy landing.
Close to the wall was the circular rim of a stone well, but it was built up only a few feet from the courtyard. Not a slit, not an opening showed in the wall itself, as the boys studied it cautiously, except for a few irregular cracks that would afford no hold whatever.
If they had arrived here sooner, they could have planned some way to lower themselves to the courtyard, but that was too late for Biff and his companions now.
Already, high-pitched cries of glee were sounding from within the very walls of the crumbling temple that the thugs had turned into a trap baited with their idol, Kali.
VIII"Move along, Biff—just a little—"
Chandra, crouched on the ledge, was holding a chunk of stone in his extended hand as he pressed Biff slightly to one side. Chandra dropped the stone, and Biff watched it plummet downward into the courtyard well, where it struck with a splash that sent ripples spreading like a bull's eye.
"Now watch me," said Chandra. He tossed his pack down into the courtyard and stood straight up at the exact spot where he had crouched. "My feet are here, by this mark. I step off to there"—he extended his arm again—"and bring hands at sides, feet together…."
Chandra finished by doing just that. He stepped out into space, hands at sides, brought his other foot forward and arrowed straight downward! Biff and Kamuka watched amazed, expecting a crash landing. Instead, Chandra followed the exact path of the stone that he had dropped. The circular well seemed to spread its opening wide to receive him as he hit the water with a sharpplunkand vanished.
Then, after what seemed interminable seconds, Chandra popped up from thesurface, reached his arms wide and pulled himself out of the well, whichBiff was pleased to see was larger in diameter than it looked. That,Biff realized, was the real mental hazard.
"Either look straight ahead, Kamuka," he told his friend, tossing his pack-kit and his Sikh turban down into the court, "or just shut your eyes the way I am going to do. Anyway, stand right on Chandra's mark"—Biff took that position as he spoke—"step off, bring your feet together—"
With that, Biff, too, dropped. Never before had he known a split second to divide itself into as many moments as those. All the way down, he was wondering if his step had been too long or too short, or whether he had let his body waver. Thirty feet seemed like thirty years, until Biff punched the water squarely and went deep, deep, deep, then came upward faster, faster, and hauled himself out the way Chandra had.
Before Chandra could extend congratulations to Biff, another pack-kit hit the paving beside them. Kamuka was ready to take off, and for the first time, Chandra expressed the worry that he really felt.
"Climb up quick, Biff!" he said, from his side of the well. "If Kamuka misses—if he wiggles—we must keep him from hitting stones too hard!"
Biff came up on the opposite side, ready to help break Kamuka's fall, but it proved unnecessary. A lithe brown form streaked feet first between the ready hands that Biff and Chandra extended and was gone as the water sprayed up from the well.
[Illustration:Chandra popped up from the surface and reached his arms wide]
"Gone!" exclaimed Chandra. "Like Jinnah Jad says when I do basket trick.Now watch me bring him back!"
He waved his hands above the well, and Kamuka bobbed up grinning. Chandra and Biff grabbed his arms and hauled him out, anxious to get started on their way. Picking up their luggage, they cut off to a far corner of the courtyard where steps led down into another jungle path.
Minutes later, they were lost beneath a lattice of spreading green, descending a slope that was leading them away from danger instead of into it. Chandra began to chuckle happily and finally exploded into mirth.
"They will never guess where we have gone," the Indian boy said gleefully. "They will wait, those followers of Kali, thinking that we will come creeping back like the monkeys and the cobras. They will look for us and will think that we are hiding, waiting, somewhere in the ancient temple."
"Maybe," put in Kamuka, "they will look where we jumped."
"What then?" rejoined Chandra. "They will find nothing. Everything will be dry around the well by that time."
"I'll say it will," agreed Biff. "Our clothes are dry already. You certainly found the quick way out, Chandra."
"Like I did from the porthole in your cabin," reminded Chandra. "You said it was a good trick, so I showed you."
"But where did you learn it?"
"From my great-great-great-grandfather, up near Delhi. He still dropped into an eighty-foot well when he was eighty years old."
Biff had heard of the famous well jumpers, who for centuries had performed their amazing feat of dropping straight down an eighty-foot shaft that was only eight feet wide. That dated back to when the Great Moguls had ruled India and the skill had been handed down from father to son for generations until the British government had forbidden it as too dangerous.
"But I thought they stopped well jumping—"
Biff caught himself, afraid that he would offend Chandra, but the Indian boy took it in good humor.
"You mean like they stop thugee?" laughed Chandra. "They tried, but thugs go underground so we still go under water. The big difference"—Chandra turned serious now—"was that thugs hurt other people andshouldbe stopped, but well jumpers hurt nobody but themselves and even then, not very often."
"I guess not," agreed Biff, "or your great-great-grandfather wouldn't have been in the game at eighty."
"My great-great-great-grandfather."
"My mistake," said Biff. "So your people still kept on jumping down wells?"
"No, we obey the law," returned Chandra. "We stop. But we practice in open pools, just like other people dive. Sometimes at night, we take full moon as target. We drop a stone from a high riverbank, where the moon shows in the water. Then we step off like we three just did."
"It's lucky you showed us how, Chandra," Biff said. "We never would have tried it on our own. Would we, Kamuka?"
Kamuka shook his head emphatically. "I should say not!" he responded.
Fortunately, Biff, who was a good diver, had often stepped off springboards or diving platforms as a stunt. Kamuka, too, had used the same technique from the edge of high piers on the Amazon, when boats were moored too close to allow a normal dive. So they had been ready and able to copy Chandra's well jump without hesitation, when the time had called for instant action.
A few hours of steady plodding along the gradually descending path brought the boys to a level clearing studded with the remains of a long-abandoned town. Piles of ancient bricks represented the walls of houses, though enough were still standing to mark the lines of streets and market squares. A slightly higher clearing showed a row of sculptured stone pillars, remains of an ancient temple. From another such space loomed the ruins of what must have been a maharajah's palace, for its walls gleamed like alabaster in the sunlight.
"I have heard of this place," nodded Chandra. "They have been making excavations here. Down a road we will come to a waterfall, then we will go past big quarries, then finally we will reach the Grand Trunk Road."
Though the boys were practically sure that they had outdistanced any pursuit, they still were taking no chances. They found the road that Chandra mentioned, and though it was scarcely more than wheel ruts, the hiking was good along it. After a few miles they came to the waterfall, which tumbled from a rocky ledge amid the massed green foliage, forty feet above. Its sheer descent ended in a rock-rimmed pool, which brought a whimsical comment from Kamuka.
"Looks like the waterfall is trying a well jump itself. Maybe we should go up and drop down with it, no?"
"No," agreed Biff. "But that pool looks deep enough for a good swim.What's stopping us?"
Nothing was stopping them. By now, they were drenched with perspiration after their steady hike, so a swim was in order. Soon they were cavorting in the cool water, which was even deeper than they had thought, and swimming close enough to the foot of the falls to catch its spray, yet avoiding the pounding mass of falling water.
As Biff climbed out, Chandra called to him from the pool:
"Maybe you go back to your American clothes, hey? Nobody we meet will guess who you are. You'll find them in my pack."
That was the best idea yet, for Biff was tired of his Sikh costume, particularly the bothersome turban. While Chandra and Kamuka were finishing their swim, Biff dressed in his own clothes. Then he strolled over to look at an ancient stone platform that someone had uncovered from the jungle roots.
The floor of burnt-clay bricks was set with colorful tiles that formed a broken pattern and from the six-sided shape of the platform, Biff decided it must have been a summerhouse frequented by the maharajah's courtiers. Some of the broken tiles had been stacked at the edge of the platform, and Biff picked them up to examine them.
They looked like some form of terra cotta, though they showed no traces of a glaze. Biff was stooping to replace them, when he heard a hiss behind him. Instantly, Biff wheeled about and instinctively voiced a sharp, warning cry, even before he saw the thing that he knew would be there.
Swelling up from the rubble was a scaly, bulbous neck, with odd, heart-shaped markings that gave it the look of a face with leering eyes and grinning lips. But the creature's own small head and beady eyes were above that puffed-out neck that came rising higher, as token of its deadly rage.
The hissing menace was a cobra, one of the most venomous snakes in India. Rearing to a height of nearly two feet, the cobra was within striking distance of Biff's leg, and poised, ready to deliver death from its dreaded fangs!
IXThe Man in the Jeep
Biff had given his quick cry as a warning to the other boys, though he was the one who needed help. Fortunately, it worked both ways, for Chandra, who had come from the pool and was putting on his clothes, turned quickly in Biff's direction when he heard that sharp call.
Chandra didn't have to see the cobra to know that it was there. Often before, he had seen and heard people react the way Biff had. In response, Chandra automatically voiced a warning of his own:
"Don't move, Biff! Stay right where you are!"
That was about all that Biff could do. His quick spin had brought him back against the stack of old bricks and tile. He would trip over them, if he tried to retreat farther.
The cobra's mood was in a sense defensive, which made it all the more dangerous. Biff had disturbed the snake; that was why it had risen to action. Now it was waiting for some further motion to guide its deadly stroke. The chance fall of a loose tile, the passing shadow of a bird in flight might be enough. Unless something could completely divert the snake, Biff's chances of getting clear seemed almost nil.
Grimly, Biff wished that their equipment included a shotgun, but the boys had no firearms among them. Chandra was approaching, but all he held was a little stick no longer than an ordinary ruler. Biff heard him say to Kamuka:
"Get tree branch—with lots of leaves—have it ready when I reach for it."
Biff groaned inwardly. A tree branch to fight off a cobra! Then Chandra had placed the stick to his lips and was piping a tune. The stick was a little flute!
Edging Biff's way, Chandra crouched until his shoulders were level with Biff's waist. Facing the cobra, Chandra swayed slowly back and forth. As if captivated by the tune, the cobra's hood began to bob in the same rhythm!
Never, at the end of a swing, did Chandra give the cobra time to strike. Playing the flute with one hand, Chandra reached over his far shoulder with the other and gripped a leafy tree branch that Kamuka gave him. Still swaying, Chandra carried the snake's attention more and more toward the extended branch.
Deftly, Chandra thrust the branch forward and downward. The cobra struck with all its deadly purpose, but its fangs met twigs and leaves, nothing more. Chandra had dropped the branch and flung himself in the opposite direction, jolting Biff away from danger in case the cobra turned and tried to strike anew.
Kamuka, by then, was peppering the snake with stones that he had gathered while bringing the tree branch. Under that barrage, the cobra hastily sought refuge in the rubble, where Biff, after his close shave with death, was very glad to see it go. "Whew!" he said, wiping perspiration from his forehead. "Thanks, fellows! You're good men to know! How did you learn to charm snakes, Chandra?" he asked. "Did Jinnah Jad teach you that, too?"
"In a way, yes," Chandra acknowledged. "Jinnah Jad and I watched snake charmers often. He told me how they do their tricks."
The boys gathered their packs and resumed their hike along the rutted road.
"But how can music make snakes dance?" Kamuka asked abruptly. "In Brazil, our snakes hear nothing except a big loud noise, when somebody shoots a gun or whacks water with a paddle."
"In that case," said Biff, "it's probably more a matter of the snake sensing a vibration than any keen hearing. Maybe that's why the flute music sways them." He turned to Chandra. "Or is it?"
Chandra grinned. "Flute music makes me sway," he said, "so it makes the cobra sway."
"Because it watches you," Biff said, "not because it hears the music? So actually, you don't need the flute, do you?"
"But I do need it," insisted Chandra seriously. "Without it, I move too slow or too fast." He swung his head lazily, then bobbed it in jerky fashion. "But with music, I sway just right."
He brought out the flute and began to play it, giving his head and shoulders the easy, rhythmic weave that they had followed before.
"You've convinced us, Chandra, so put it away," Biff said. With pretended anxiety, he looked back over his shoulder. "Next thing, you'll have a pack of cobras following us!"
More such banter spiced the hike until they reached the quarries, where Biff called a halt because he wanted to study them. They were sandstone quarries, dating back many centuries, and they were still being worked, which interested Biff immensely. The road was much better from then on, because it had to be kept in shape for the trucks that hauled the stone. The boys passed a few of those trucks as they continued on their way.
It was afternoon when they reached the Grand Trunk Road, which lived up to expectations. The hiking was pleasant and easy, for there were many shade trees planted along the famous highway, some so tall that they arched across the road. The boys saw elephants and camels, but ox-carts were more common and seemed to be a highly popular mode of travel.
There were cars, too, and an occasional bus, but these modern vehicles were badly handicapped by flocks of sheep that were in no hurry to get off the road. There were throngs of pilgrims also, who added to the traffic tangle. Most exasperating of all were the cows, which were held in such high esteem that there was no rushing them at all. They just took their own sweet time and let motorists chafe.
Biff and his companions were specially aware of this when they overtook the same jeep no less than three times. It was driven by a man who wore a blue beret, a pair of sunglasses, and a white shirt with short sleeves. He first went whizzing by the boys as though he intended to burn up the road for miles ahead, but they soon caught up with him, following patiently behind an assortment of pilgrims, ox-carts, and sheep. On foot, the boys could work their way through that medley, but the jeep couldn't.
Again, after the jeep had passed them, they came upon it parked beside a tea stand. The boys themselves stopped later at a village inn, for by this time they were ravenously hungry. It was there that the jeep roared by the second time. But when they caught up with it again, stalled behind a herd of sacred cows, the driver had taken off his beret and glasses and was asleep behind the wheel, as if he didn't care.
Chandra, by then, was worried over their own problems. Their long detour by jungle paths had delayed them more than he had anticipated, and their heavy hiking of the morning had caused them to loiter, once they were on the Grand Trunk Road. Now, all three were tired and showing it.
"We won't make Supari tonight," declared Chandra. "Not at this rate."
"Does it matter?" asked Biff. "I saw other people camping in a mango grove, so why can't we?"
"It would not be safe for us," insisted Chandra. "We were marked once; we may be marked again."
"Maybe we can get a hitchhike—"
Biff was interrupted by the honking of horns from two cars that had come up behind the jeep. The man behind the wheel awoke with a start, saw that the cows were ambling off the road ahead and that the other cars were anxious to go through. Apparently he was still sleepy, for he pulled the jeep aside and let the traffic pass. Mopping his forehead with a big blue handkerchief, the man looked from behind the wheel and saw the three boys with their packs. He called in English:
"Wait, there! Can any of you chaps drive a jeep?"
"Yes," replied Biff, stepping over to the jeep. "I can."
"Then pile your packs on board," the man invited, "and take the wheel. I'm dog-tired and I need some sleep, but I still have to get somewhere tonight."
Despite the man's English speech and manner, he had something of an Oriental look, and when Biff met his gaze, he felt a fleeting recollection of having seen the man before. Then Biff was smiling at the way he had let his own memory trick him. Naturally, he'd seen the man before—twice when they'd caught up with the jeep—three times when it had gone by Biff and his companions.
The man was already moving from behind the wheel, so Biff took over and waved for Chandra and Kamuka to get in back, which they did, packs and all. Neatly, Biff zigzagged the jeep in among the dispersing cows and stepped up to a twenty-mile-an-hour rate that seemed a break-neck speed after a day of plodding on foot. The owner of the jeep evidently approved of Biff's driving, for he promptly drifted into a satisfied doze.
Slowdowns and halts were frequent, of course, and during those intervals, Biff took a closer look at the sleeping man. He noted that the man's hair was dark and shocky, his complexion tawny, his features broad but smooth, except when he let his chin slump down too far; then, his jowls looked heavy. Most noticeable were his ears, which spread out quite widely from his head. Otherwise, he was handsome, in a rugged way, and he looked vigorous for his age, which Biff placed somewhere in the forties.
Before an hour was up, Chandra spoke from the back seat. "We are getting near Supari now!" he said. At the sound of the strange voice, the broad-faced man woke up and was immediately alert. Only for an instant did he appear puzzled at seeing Biff at the wheel of the jeep. Then, with a broad smile, he said. "Supari. That is not far from Keewal, the place where I am going."
"You are going to the old game preserve?" inquired Chandra politely.
"Yes," the man replied. "The headshikarihas invited me to a tiger hunt there." He turned to Biff. "Take the next side road, and I will drop you off near Supari. I can then go on to Keewal."
It was more than a mile to the side road, and Biff would have missed it if Chandra hadn't pointed it out, for it was merely ruts, like the road they had followed earlier in the day. And such ruts! At times they disappeared in grass so thick that Biff had to guide the jeep by the clearing in the low, scrubby trees ahead.
All the while, the broad-faced man smiled approvingly at the way Biff handled the jeep, while Biff himself was glad that he was not driving a more conventional type of car. At one place, the ruts reappeared, to turn themselves into a bridge consisting of two tree trunks, smoothed to form treadways only about a foot in width. But Biff rode over them perfectly, although the slightest sideslip would have dumped the jeep and its occupants into a ten-foot gully.
Then the ruts became an actual road, which was alternately a series of rocky ledges which made the jeep jump, or dust so deep that the car wallowed to its axles. Yet the man with the broad, rugged face never spoke a word, but left the driving up to Biff, as did the boys in back. It was only when Biff made a sharp turn into a slightly smoother but still dusty stretch that Chandra spoke up:
"We get off here to go to Supari."
It wasn't yet sunset, and they had made it! The huts of the village showed across the open fields, a mile away, with clumps of thick woods forming a colorful background. As Biff stepped from the jeep, the broad-faced man moved over behind the wheel and clapped his hand on Biff's shoulder in approval.
"Look me up at Keewal," the stranger said. "I can use you as an alternate driver on my next trip. The head shikari will tell you where to find me."
He was sliding the jeep into gear as Biff and the other boys stood there, shouldering their packs.
"May I ask your name, sir?" Biff inquired.
The rugged man smiled broadly, as he gave it:
"Just ask for Barma Shah."
With that, the jeep was off in a cloud of its own dust and Biff was echoing in amazement: "Barma Shah!"
XThe Tiger Hunt
All the way across the fields to the village, Biff was brimming with excitement because they had met Barma Shah, the secret agent mentioned by Diwan Chand, and the all-important contact to Biff's father. But Biff's enthusiasm was marred by disappointment.
"If I'd only told him who I was!" he exclaimed. "All the while I was driving the jeep, I was holding back on that, thinking that to say anything to anybody might be giving ourselves away."
"Barma Shah is very smart," reminded Chandra. "Perhaps he knew who you were."
"What makes you think that, Chandra?"
"We kept seeing jeep over and over. It went past us—we went past it—as if it was keeping watch on us."
"But that was due to all the traffic—"
"Traffic did not hold us up after Sahib Shah let you drive his jeep.Next thing, we were practically here at Supari."
"You may be right, Chandra," Biff agreed.
They had reached the actual village now, a mass of closely built huts with mud walls and tiled roofs, surrounded by yapping, nondescript dogs. It was almost sundown, and from this central point, the fields and trees looked dark and gaunt against the spreading purple of the sky. Now people, mostly in native costumes, were flocking out, first in alarm, then in a wild welcome when they recognized Chandra.
Biff and Kamuka were included in the villagers' enthusiasm, and then Chandra's uncle, thepatwari, was greeting them and introducing them, in turn, to thepatel, or head man of the village. The boys were supplied with cups of rich, delicious milk, and later they were taken to a modern building that served as school and community house, a symbol of the new India.
There, they feasted on tasty curry and rice, followed by fruits and cakes. Chandra, meanwhile, kept up a running chatter with his uncle and other villagers, mixing English with Hindi and the local native dialect. From the tone of the talk, Biff and Kamuka gathered that something quite serious was afoot. Chandra finally supplied the details.
"You will meet Barma Shah very soon," Chandra told Biff, "because my uncle tells me that the head shikari at Keewal has asked the village people to help trap a tiger tomorrow night."
"Aren't tigers usually hunted in the daytime?"
"Not this kind," declared Chandra. "This tiger is a cattle stealer, and lately he has prowled near the village, killing people after dark. That is why there was so much excitement when we arrived close to nightfall."
As they left the community house, Biff heard the incessant barking of the dogs on the fringe of the town. Watchmen with big spears were on patrol. Many lanterns were aglow, showing that the village was tense and alert. Wisps of grayish smoke coiled from the chimneys and wavered, like fading ghosts, against the vast blackness of the starlit sky.
But when they entered the snug hut which Chandra smilingly termed theirdaulat-khana, or "palace," Biff felt that the outside world was far away. His bed was a simplecharpoy—tapes strung to its frame instead of springs or mattress—but Biff was so tired that nothing could have been more comfortable. The calls of the patrolling watchmen, the distant barking of the dogs, simply lulled him off to solid sleep.
It was nearly noon when Biff awoke. He and Kamuka followed Chandra around the village, where they saw weavers, shoemakers, carpenters, and blacksmiths at work. Chandra explained that they were paid off in crops raised by the farmers who made up most of the community. But today, the carpenters and metal workers were combining their efforts in constructing huge wooden frames that were set with heavy bars of iron.
"Why, that looks like a big portable cage!" Biff exclaimed.
Chandra's uncle, the patwari, was standing by. He smiled and responded,"It is exactly that. Tonight, we use it to trap the killer tiger."
"You mean he may walk right into it?"
"No, no!" The patwari shook his head. "The bars are to keep the tiger out, so the living bait will be safe inside the cage."
"But don't you just stake out some animal?" asked Biff. "So the tiger will think it is loose?"
"Usually we do that with a pig or buffalo," replied Chandra's uncle, "but this tiger has tasted human blood. So tonight we will try human bait. That is the purpose of the cage."
"And the bait," put in Chandra proudly, "will be Kamuka and myself. We are going in with Thakur, the head watchman and chief hunter of the village."
"We are sorry to leave you out, Biff," added Kamuka in explanation. "You were still asleep when they asked us, and it was only after we said, 'Yes,' that we found they only had room for two."
Biff thought at first that his friends were joking, but it turned out they were quite in earnest. The cage had been specially designed for Thakur and two lookouts, preferably boys. But the village youths had become so tiger-conscious that they were seeing jungle cats every time a leaf stirred in the underbrush. So Chandra and Kamuka had been recruited for the job instead.
Biff put on a show of disappointment, if only to impress Chandra's uncle and the other villagers.
"Maybe Barma Shah, the man with the jeep, will want me to help him,"Biff said. "I'll ask him when I see him."
Late in the afternoon, the barred frames were ready, and they were hauled by ox-cart to ashola, or patch of jungle not far from the town. That was where the tiger had attacked and slain its victims, so the villagers had shunned the place for the past few days.
During that period, Matapar, the head Shikari from Keewal, had put up platforms in surrounding trees, covering the open area where the tiger liked to prowl. By now, he hoped the tiger would be used to it, but the cage idea did not appeal to Matapar. That had been thought up by Thakur, the village huntsman.
So Matapar and the other shikaris watched silently, almost glumly, while Thakur and his helpers set up the cage close to a thicket that they thought would be inviting to the tiger. They were fixing the frames together with crude bolts when Barma Shah drove up in his jeep, wearing his pulled-down beret and dark sun glasses.
Biff walked over to meet him and as Barma Shah nodded a greeting, Biff announced, "I am Biff Brewster."
"I was sure of that," rejoined Barma Shah, extending his hand in greeting, "but because of your mission I thought it best to introduce myself first and let you make the next move."
"I'm doing that now," stated Biff. "Sir—what have you heard from my father? Where is he?"
Despite himself, Biff betrayed anxiety in his tone. Barma Shah noticed it and put reassurance into his reply.
"I haven't heard from him," he said, "but I know that he went to Kashmir and that he has probably—gone on from there. His mission was there, mine was in Calcutta."
Barma Shah paused and glanced about to make sure that no one was close enough to hear. Then he inquired:
"You have the ruby Diwan Chand gave you?"
Biff fingered the bag beneath his shirt collar and nodded. "Right here," he said.
"Good. Your father will be needing it. We can talk more of this tomorrow."
Barma Shah was carrying a modern rifle with what appeared to be a large telescopic sight mounted on top of the barrel. That reminded Biff of an important request.
"The other boys are going into the cage with Thakur," he stated. "Could you post me on a platform or somewhere, sir?"
Barma Shah paused a moment, then nodded. "I have the perfect job for you. I need a driver for the jeep, which I am keeping in reserve with two shikaris, in case anything goes wrong. By turning it over to you, I can post myself on one of the platforms."
By sundown, the scene was set. Thakur was in the cage, gripping a big shotgun and flanked by Chandra and Kamuka, each armed with a spear. Barma Shah had picked himself a platform up in a tree. Matapar and other shikaris were up on their platforms, all at ideal range. Biff was as far off in the jeep as space would allow, down at the end of a long, smooth gully that practically formed a roadway to the clearing. In the back seat, two more shikaris sat ready with their rifles.
But as dusk gathered, tension grew. The cage was the focal spot. If the tiger approached too close, Thakur was to drive him back with quick shots. Then Barma Shah, Matapar, and the rest would open fire with their rifles, covering practically the entire clearing. Biff's job was to come up with the jeep, only when needed—early, if anything went badly wrong; later, if all went well.
From the way things had been planned, they seemed likely to go well, but that depended partly on the tiger. Usually, he picked his victims just before dark, but this evening he was wary. Chandra and Kamuka gave occasional calls, putting a frightened tremolo into their voices, hoping to coax the striped terror into seeking them. But the darkness thickened and then became almost total in the clearing, before the cunning cat decided to strike.
Then it happened, like the surge of an invisible fury. Sharp-eyed though they were, neither Chandra nor Kamuka caught the slightest glimpse of the five-hundred-pound tiger until its ten feet of furred lightning landed squarely on the cage with the destructive force of a living thunderbolt. The cage buckled, hurling the occupants on their backs. Thakur's shotgun spouted straight upward, missing the tiger entirely, as the creature, somewhat jolted, recoiled to the ground in front.
Thakur, coming to his knees, aimed at the spot where the tiger crouched, but as he fired the second barrel, the furred fury made another high, hard spring, clearing the path of aim. Again, the cage was jarred, and now Thakur, desperate, grabbed a spear from Chandra and jabbed wildly through the bars, blindly trying to drive off the snarling killer that he could not see.
Given time, Thakur might have made a telling thrust; but meanwhile, the tiger threatened to maul the cage apart. The framework was splintering under the fierce stroke of its claws. With each new spring, the iron bars were loosened. Barma Shah and the others on the platforms could not open fire with their rifles, for Thakur, so far, had failed to drive the tiger back. In the darkness, their shots would be more likely to hit Thakur or the boys.
The clanging echoes carried far down the gully, where Biff was puzzled by the lack of rifle fire, but not for long. Biff realized what must be going on, when the clashing sounds continued; and so did the men in back. Their grunts practically said, "Get going!" as did the clicks from their rifles, when they released the safety catches.
Biff got going, as he had been told to do in such an emergency. He gunned the jeep into life, shot it straight up the gully, guiding by the outline of the clearing against the starry sky. The speeding jeep wallowed in the gully's slopes, then reached the open ground as Biff clicked on the lights and jammed the brakes.
The sudden glare outlined the whole front of the cage, showing the tiger turning, snarling at the sound of the jeep's approaching roar. Briefly, the tiger was blinded and helpless, giving the men in the jeep their opportunity. They sprang out, dodged over toward the brush, and opened fire. One shot grazed the tiger; another clipped him, as he bounded away from the cage, spun in the air and sprawled beyond the light.
The shikaris from the jeep started over to examine their prize, but paused when warning shouts came from both the cage and the tree platforms. Half-stunned, the tiger picked itself up, snarled at the two shikaris as they dived away from the light. Then the tiger itself took to the darkness on the other side, but not in flight.
It had another purpose. It wanted to claw, to rip apart its real tormentor, the thing with the blazing eyes that had interrupted the tiger's efforts to reach its caged prey. That thing was the jeep. In the darkness, the wounded tiger turned suddenly upon it.
Biff raised a shout as he heard an approaching snarl. The jeep heaved upward, sideward as the tiger's bulk hit it between hood and windshield. In the dim glow from the dashlight, Biff could see the monstrous, clawing shape of the man-killer as it gathered itself for a final spring upon the new prey it had so unexpectedly found.
Through Biff's stunned mind ran the freakish notion that whatever luck the Light of the Lama had brought him, the ruby's charm had lost its power by now.
XIA Thief in the Night
In their half-wrecked cage, Chandra and Kamuka realized all too thoroughly how the prospect of sure death had switched from them to Biff. After their experience, his frantic shout told them everything. It was pitch dark in back of the jeep's headlights. The marksmen in the trees couldn't even guess the tiger's location, let alone stop it with a chance shot.
But it wasn't a chance shot that came. From one of the platforms, a sharp beam of light cut a thin path through the blackness, turning a brilliant spotlight on the open jaws and glittering eyes of the great beast that was already mashing the jeep's windshield with its mammoth paw.
That sudden shaft of light was a bull's-eye in itself. Now, if a rifle muzzle could only score an identical hit! As that hope sprang to the boys who watched from the cage, it was answered in a realistic way. A rifle crackled. The tiger's big head jolted back, and its snarl broke.
Biff saw that happen as he looked up from behind the wheel. Now, the tiny circle of light was focused just behind the tiger's ear. Again, the rifle spoke. The tiger's whole body came forward, but not in a lunge. Instead, its quarter-ton of dead weight landed across the jeep's hood, crushing it down upon the motor. Then the striped body rolled to the ground, where the sharp beam picked it out again, probing it from head to tail.
No further shots were necessary. Biff came up shakily behind the wheel, found that the jeep would still run, and backed it so the headlights shone full on the tiger. The creature not only was motionless; its odd, distorted pose proved that life had left it.
Barma Shah came down from his platform, bringing the rifle with the thing that looked like a telescopic sight above the barrel. Only it wasn't a telescopic sight; it was a special flashlight powered by multiple batteries and focused down to almost a needle-beam.
"I knew I might need this," declared Barma Shah, "so I tested it last night, at just the right range. The light is the rifle's sight." He lifted the gun, pointed it up into the trees and picked out the top step leading to the platform that he had just left. "Just spot your target, pull the trigger, and that's it."
"Thatwasit," complimented Biff, "but it took a good cool hand and steady nerves to do it."
Barma Shah's ragged features spread into a broad smile. He suggested that instead of going back to the village, the boys accompany him to the hunting lodge at Keewal. Biff accepted the invitation, but Chandra wanted to return to Supari to give the villagers a first-hand account of his harrowing experience in the cage. Naturally, he needed Kamuka to support his testimony, so Barma Shah agreed to pick them up at Supari in the morning.
The Keewal hunting lodge impressed Biff immensely, as it was equipped with all modern conveniences including air conditioning. It also had a telephone, to which Barma Shah gestured, as soon as he and Biff were alone. Then, with a broad, pleased smile, he declared:
"I talked with Calcutta by long distance this afternoon. You will be glad to know that Diwan Chand and his gatekeeper, Nathu, came out all right. Nobody was after them."
Biff grinned, then became serious. "I know that," he said. "They were after me—and this."
Biff brought out the watertight container. From it, he took the chamois bag, then the jewel case, finally, the huge, glowing ruby. He handed the jewel to Barma Shah, who studied it as though he had seen it often. Then, as the stone's glint suddenly became more vivid, Biff added, "Diwan Chand said its sparkle showed that the charm was working well. But you had a lot to do with that tonight."
"Tonight, perhaps, yes." Barma Shah returned the gem to Biff and shook his head. "But the other day, if I had known you would run into that trouble at Chand's, I would have gone there myself, instead."
"But Mr. Chand said that you were marked."
"True. But so were you, as it turned out."
"Yes," agreed Biff, "but Chandra helped me out fast enough. Our real trouble was with the thugs on the road."
"Thugs? On the road? Tell me about that."
Biff detailed the incidents of the train trip, the detour by the old abandoned temple, and their final arrival on the Grand Trunk Road. As he concluded the account, Barma Shah shook his head again.
"And to think that I let you go through all that," he said, "while I was waiting for you on the Grand Trunk Road."
"But how," queried Biff, "did you know that we were coming that way?"
"From your father," explained Barma Shah. "He told me all about Chandra,the boy who worked for Jinnah Jad. That is why I came here to Keewal, soI would be near the village of Supari, where Chandra's uncle lives.Naturally, Chandra would bring you there."
"But how did we happen to come along just when you were here for a tiger hunt and the villagers were so terribly excited over it?"
"They are always tiger hunting here at Keewal," replied Barma Shah with a smile, "and the people in Supari are easily excited. If Matapar cries, 'Tiger! Tiger!' he knows that Thakur will bring out the villagers as beaters by day and even as bait by night."
"I never thought of that."
"And I never realized that the thugs were so active again," commented Barma Shah. "The way the Kali cult took over that old temple is surprising indeed. I shall notify the local authorities and have them investigate it. Perhaps it is more widespread than it appears."
The next day, Barma Shah and Biff drove over to the village and picked up Chandra and Kamuka. They continued on their way, laughing over the fact that of all the party, the one that had taken the worst beating from the tiger hunt was the jeep. However, the staunch vehicle was in good running order, and the boys began to enjoy their tour with Barma Shah.
A tour it actually became, for Barma Shah decided it should be that way.He even insisted that Chandra put on European clothes similar to whatBiff and Kamuka were wearing. So they stopped at the first importanttown on the Grand Trunk Road and bought Chandra his new outfit.
Chandra was amazed when he studied himself in a big mirror at the clothing store.
"This is better than any jadoo," decided Chandra. "If Jinnah Jad should put me in the basket wearing my old clothes and bring me out in new, like these, people would think I was a different boy."
"You'd have to make jadoo yourself," returned Biff. "It would take real magic for you to change clothes while you are curled around the inside of that basket."
Chandra laughed at that, and then the laugh was turned on Biff when Barma Shah picked out a woven straw hat with a rounded, dome-shaped crown and broad, sharply down-turned brim. He placed it on Biff's head, saying, "Try this on for size." The hat was so big that it came clear down over Biff's eyes, the brim hiding his face almost to the jawline.
"Looks like Biff is trying the basket trick himself," observed Chandra merrily. "Where did he go, Kamuka?"
"I don't know," replied Kamuka. "Last I saw, he was climbing into a basket that looked like a hat. Now he is vanished. Complete."
Biff whipped off the hat, somewhat red-faced and flustered, only to enjoy a laugh himself when he saw Chandra and Kamuka peering over counters and behind racks as though they were trying to find where he had gone. Then Barma Shah was handing Biff some smaller hats of the same style, and among them, Biff discovered one that was just his size.
"Very good," approved Barma Shah. "That brim still comes low enough to hide your hair rather well, and the sun visor helps too."
The visor was of dark, transparent plastic set in the front of the hat brim, and it added somewhat to the depth of Biff's tan. It proved helpful, too, when Biff was driving the jeep, for Barma Shah decided to travel along secondary highways that lacked the shade provided by the Grand Trunk Road.
Traffic, too, was less, but rough stretches of road slowed their trip. There were delays, too, at rivers where there were no bridges, only ferries that looked like tiny floats or rafts, the sort that might tip the jeep into the first current they encountered. But the rafts were well balanced, and the natives were skillful with their poles and oars. Each crossing was made without incident.
Barma Shah had brought sleeping bags and bedding so that they could stop atdakbungalows, or rest houses, along the way. To all appearances, Barma Shah might have been a private tutor taking some privileged scholars on an educational tour of the Indian byroads; and in fact, the boys were learning a lot.
Biff was especially impressed by the monkeys. He thought he had already seen a lot of them in India, but now they were boldly jumping over the jeep whenever it stopped and ready to snatch up whatever they saw and wanted. Chandra said there were a hundred million monkeys in India. Biff was ready to believe it when they stopped at a dak bungalow near Agra and had to slam doors in the faces of the creatures to keep them from coming in the bedrooms.
That afternoon they drove into Agra to see the famed Taj Mahal on the bank of the Jamuna River. One of the world's most beautiful buildings, it impressed Biff as a dream brought to reality in living marble. Later, they went to a telegraph office where Biff sent a wire to his mother, which simply stated:
Barma Shah decided that the telegram told enough, yet not too much. He smiled when Biff also showed him a postcard with a picture of the Taj Mahal, which had the printed statement:India's most priceless jewel, for you to hold in memory. Under that, Biff had written, "And I really am holding it, bag and all. Biff." He had addressed the card to Likake Mahenili at Darjeeling.
"Send it," decided Barma Shah. "Only your Hawaiian friend will know that you mean the ruby rather than the Taj Mahal."
After dinner at a restaurant in Agra, they drove back to view the Taj by moonlight, when its graceful marble dome and slender minarets were softened into an incomparable silvery whiteness, a striking contrast to its splendor by day.
They were still talking about the Taj when they arrived back at the rest house, where they reduced their tones to whispers rather than rouse the monkeys, which apparently had gone to sleep in the trees. But when Biff himself was dozing off, he heard occasional patter on the roof and scratchy sounds outside his window, indicating that some of the creatures were about.
In his dreams, Biff could see monkeys swarming over everything, even the Taj Mahal, until oddly, they seemed to be clambering over the cot itself. Still half asleep, yet aware of where he was, Biff could feel their breath on his face, their pesky hands clutching at the bag containing the ruby.
Then Biff's eyes came open. He made a convulsive grab with both hands. In the filtering moonlight from the window, he saw a face that was human in size and form, yet leering like a monkey's. He caught hands that were human, too, but long, thin-fingered, and as writhing in their touch as a snake's coils.
Swiftly, expertly, those hands had grabbed the pouch that contained the great ruby and were twisting its chain around Biff's neck like a strangle cord!
XIIA Double Surprise
The struggle that followed was frantic but brief. It couldn't have lasted long, for Biff was unable to wrench the attacker's hands from the chain that they so cruelly twisted. It was already cutting off Biff's breath and blood supply, so that his eyes were seeing black spots in the moonlight.
Biff shifted his grip to his attacker's throat, but it didn't help. If anything, it made him twist the chain harder. Biff couldn't call for help, though the walls of the bungalow were thin enough for even a gargly cry to be heard. But there was a way to make people hear.
As he lashed about, Biff managed to shove the cot away from the wall. Then, wrenching himself to a new position, he began kicking the wall with his feet, pounding a terrific drum beat. There was a muffled, excited cry from the next room, then answering shouts above the din that Biff was raising. The whole dak bungalow was aroused.
Right then, Biff was hoping to jab his attacker's neck nerves, judo style, which would have turned the tables completely. But his squirmy foe didn't wait. He managed to yank the ruby bag clear from its chain. Gripping his prize, he twisted away, turned, and bounded for the window.
Biff beat him there, by rolling over on his hands and knees, then blocking the fugitive with a headlong dive. The squirmy man turned and darted toward the door, just as it burst open and Barma Shah came driving in. He met the attacker and snatched for the bag, which came open, spilling out the ruby. By then, Biff was piling into the fray. He and Barma Shah both grabbed for the gleaming gem, while the squirmy man took off empty-handed.
It was Barma Shah who saved the ruby with one hand, while he held Biff back with the other. Chandra and Kamuka were already taking up the chase from their rooms, as were other guests. Coolly, Barma Shah told Biff:
"Leave it to them. We don't want people to know what the fellow was after. Here is the ruby, so put it away again."
The advice was good, so Biff accepted it. For the moment, he wondered if they'd really regained the ruby, for it looked as dull as a lump of coal, there in Barma Shah's hand. But as Biff took it, all the gem's luster returned and it scintillated in the moonlight with a vivid fire that seemed to throw off living sparks. Satisfied, Biff put the ruby back in its bag.
The excitement roused hundreds of monkeys from their tree bunks, and with all their jumping and chatter, no one was able to catch up with Biff's attacker. Thekhansamawho kept the dak bungalow was all apologies when an examination showed that Biff's window screen had been loosened—by whom, no one knew. Barma Shah, as spokesman for the boys, dismissed it as a trifling matter.
But in the morning, Barma Shah went into Agra to talk to the police. He returned in time for an early lunch which the khansama, who was cook as well as innkeeper, had specially prepared. It consisted ofdalmoth, or fried lentils with thin shavings of lentil paste; and it was followed by a dish ofpetha, a crystallized melon served in slices.
When Barma Shah and the boys pulled away in the jeep, he had made no further mention of the near-robbery of the night before. But as they rode along the highway toward Delhi, Barma Shah discussed the matter with the boys.
"The police weren't impressed," Barma Shah declared. "They say there is nothing to this talk ofthugeecoming back in the form of a Kali cult. People are simply confusing them with roving bands of thieves, like the oldpindaris. Other countries have gangsters, why not India?"
"But we saw the Kali statue—" Biff began.
"I know. Well," declared Barma Shah, "whether that man last night was a petty thief or a thug playing a lone hand to deceive us, we won't take more chances."
Barma Shah's method was simple. They drove on to Delhi and pulled into the old city after dark. There, Barma Shah let the boys off on a quiet street and continued on alone in the jeep toward Simla. He had given them an address where they could find him.
Only a block from where they were dropped off, the boys came to a rooming house that Barma Shah had mentioned. They stayed there overnight and began planning their next step, which was to reach the American Embassy without attracting special notice.
"See what you can find out, Chandra," suggested Biff. "Say that you're a student who would like to know about the United States. Remember, there are a lot of American nations, so be sure to specify the United States. Maybe we can slide you in there to pave the way for me."
All this was in keeping with advice from Diwan Chand in Calcutta, which Barma Shah in his turn had stressed even more; namely, that spies might be watching every move that Biff made. Events along the line had definitely underlined the need for caution. So Chandra, still wearing his European clothes, set out on a hired bicycle, the most popular type of transportation in India's capital city of New Delhi, which adjoined the old Mogul capital of Delhi.
A few hours later, Chandra rejoined the other boys in a colorful bazaar where he had left them.
"I have good news," he exclaimed. "Every week, students go by special bus to meet and talk with ambassadors from other countries."
"That sounds like a United Nations proposition," commented Biff.
"No, no," returned Chandra. "I checked that. They go to a different country's embassy every week. So I look at the list, and what do you think is next? United States! Tomorrow!"
"Nice work," approved Biff. "That sounds like our ticket, all right."
"It is our ticket, all right." Chandra grinned. "Three tickets for bus tomorrow. I ask and I get them. So we go along with big crowd, and nobody will guess who we are."
Since the students were all from Indian schools located in New Delhi and elsewhere, Chandra and Kamuka decided to stay in their European clothes; but Biff, somewhat to his annoyance, had to switch back to his Sikh costume. Otherwise he would be spotted for an American and perhaps for himself, Biff Brewster, if some keen observer happened to be looking for him.
"I suppose any Sikh students will be wearing their native garb, too," commented Biff, "like the railroad guards on the train. So don't let them spot me for a phony the way that man with the fake beard did on the Howrah bus."
"Funny thing," said Chandra, "I keep thinking about him every now and then, I don't know just why. But don't worry. Kamuka and I will talk to people so they won't bother you."
The bus tickets were simply cards that saidStudentin English and its equivalent in Hindi characters. They were accepted without question, and the boys took seats well back in the bus, which was nearly full when it started. All was fine until they stopped at a building where Biff looked up and saw a flag with three vertical stripes—red, white, and green.
"You've made a mistake, Chandra," Biff groaned. "This can't be theAmerican Embassy. That's not the United States flag."
"It must be," argued Chandra. "Lots of countries change their flags.Maybe your country changes its flag, too."
"No, we don't change the United States flag."
From the bus window, Biff saw the flag flutter slightly, and now he noticed the emblem of an eagle on the white stripe.