"Then once again did a new thought leap into my mind. This man might have a feud with Kubar Bux, and peradventure he had merely invented the story of thugs and wholesale murder for the latter's undoing. I know well the wily ways of some men—how they will even imperil their own lives to compass the ruin of an enemy.
"'If I go with you now,' I said, 'to the shop of Kubar Bux, what proof will you give me of his connexion with this story of thuggee?'
"'On his person he carries the sacred pickaxe of Bowani, which makes him our leader when thugs come together. And hidden in one of his bales of silk you will find a case of jewelled rings that actually belonged to another Delhi merchant, who was of the party of travellers that recently perished, on his way home from a visit to Baroda. You will but have to inquire as to this same merchant's disappearance, and get his relatives to identify the casket as the dead man's property.'
"'That, indeed, will be proof,' I assented. 'Come, let us go to the Chota Bazaar.'
"As we passed out of the courthouse, I signalled to two sepoys on guard there to follow us.
"Keeping close to the denouncer, I allowed him to lead me through the narrow crowded streets. Soon we were at the corner where was the shop of Kubar Bux, and there amidst his bales of merchandise the man himself was seated, a venerable and dignified figure. Yet at sight of me and my companion I thought an ashen pallor stole into the nut-brown of his complexion.
"As I stood with the informer in front of the tiny shop, which was too small for all of us to enter, the two soldiers closed up behind us. Then unmistakably did Kubar Bux turn grey from trepidation.
"'Kubar Bux,' I began, without ceremony, for I saw that a crowd would soon be gathering, 'open the bale of silk among your merchandise in which a casket of jewels is hidden, or I shall order your shop to be searched by the sepoys I have brought here with me.'
"The merchant rose to his feet. I noticed now, further back in the shop, another figure seated—that of a man who, on our entry, had drawn his garments around him so as to conceal his face. But to him at the moment I gave no particular attention. My eyes were on Kubar Bux. He moved toward a pile of fabrics, silks and embroidered cloths, as if to comply with my demand. He pressed against the bales, and then all of a sudden sank down upon the floor in a huddled heap. Then I saw the crimson stain of blood upon the merchandise.
"I sprang forward. Driven up to the very hilt, in the breast of Kubar Bux was a dagger. He was not quite dead, and I heard him with his last breath murmur the words: 'Bowani, great goddess, all hail!' Then with a rattle in his throat he died.