But before I could speak, the Pimple broke in. Taylor’s threat to cause trouble had alarmed him.
“April Fool!” the Pimple shouted. “It is a joke. We are going a walk.”
Taylor shook his fist at us playfully, and turned back into the shop.
For the next mile the Pimple, Hill, and I chatted of the old British custom of April-fooling. The Pimple translated to the Cook, who was much interested, but neither of them thought of applying the knowledge thus acquired to his own case.
The treasure-hunt began about 20 minutes’ walk outside the town. There were slight variations from the previous day. YYY allowed the Turks to talk. He did not at first appear to our vision like KKK, but was able to make himself heard. We were clairaudient instead of clairvoyant.
About half way to Bones’s Nullah, my injured knee began to trouble me. Also we were both suffering from the effects of our starvation, and felt very weak. But we did not want to tell the Turks of our distress. Luckily, we came to a stream of running water, and an old superstition came into my head.
“Sit down,” said the Spook, “and wait. I cannot cross running water. I must go round the source.”
Whilst we waited (and incidentally rested) the Cook told us that what the Spook said about running water was a well-known fact in Turkey, and cited instances. In reply I quoted the immortal bard—
“Now, do thy speedy utmost, Meg,
And win the keystane of the brig: