"Splendid indeed; you will have gained your heart's desire, and I shall congratulate you most sincerely."
"I should be glad if I could catch Saloo, but the feat is not exactly"—a pause—"my heart's desire! Saloo's identity is a dead secret; he is an old fox. I've heard that he is a marwarri down Poonah way, but this is not confirmed. Saloo has hitherto baffled every effort to trace him."
"If you were to consult my grandmother, she would advise you to look in the ink pool!"
"No doubt!" rejoined Salwey, with a short laugh. "Have you ever seen her appeal to it?"
"No; but she believes in it implicitly. It is magic, is it not?"
"And black magic at that. I am myself orthodox, but I must admit that I have witnessed some extraordinary and utterly unaccountable things out here in the far East——"
"Tell me, please, about the ink pool!"
"Oh, well, when a native wants to find out something, he gets hold of a small boy, bribes him with promises, takes him to some quiet spot, pours ink into the palm of his hand and commands him to look, and to report what he sees!"
"Yes——"
"The seer is supposed to describe some remarkable scenes. One of my constables consulted the oracle with respect to Saloo. Personally and officially I am not supposed to countenance such—irregularities."