CHAPTER VIII
The whistle sounded at last, the train began to glide slowly away from the almost deserted platform. But at the last moment a man came running through the booking-office, and made for one of the compartments. He tugged at the handle, wrenched it open, and was preparing for a flying leap when an inspector seized him. There was an altercation, a violent struggle—the man was left upon the platform. Reist drew a long breath of relief as he settled down in his corner.
“The way these things are managed in England,” he said, “it is excellent.”
Ughtred shrugged his shoulders. Reist had been dumb for the last half-hour, and he was puzzled.
“Will you tell me now,” he asked, “the meaning of it all?”
“The meaning of it all is—Hassen!” Reist answered. “How long have you known him?”
“We fought together in Abyssinia,” Ughtred answered, “and I found him always a capital soldier and a pleasant companion.”
“Did you ever ask him where he learnt his soldiering?”
“Once—yes!”