Hehaltedatthestallnextbutonetohisown。Hismenlaythereheavywithsleep。TherewasnosignofKimorthelama。
`Up！’Hestirredasleeper。`Whitherwentthosewholayherelasteven-thelamaandtheboy？Isaughtmissing？’
`Nay，’gruntedtheman，`theoldmadmanroseatsecondcockcrowsayinghewouldgotoBenares，andtheyoungoneledhimaway。’
`ThecurseofAllahonallunbelievers！’saidMahbubheartily，andclimbedintohisownstall，growlinginhisbeard。
ButitwasKimwhohadwakenedthelama-Kimwithoneeyelaidagainstaknot-holeintheplanking，whohadseentheDelhiman’ssearchthroughtheboxes。Thiswasnocommonthiefthatturnedoverletters，bills，andsaddles-nomereburglarwhoranalittleknifesidewaysintothesolesofMahbub’sslippers，orpickedtheseamsofthesaddle-bagssodeftly。