Horace Alexander laughed a superior laugh.
"Mine don't! not the real confidential one. Why! I don't suppose you do."
"That's a different matter," replied the police officer drily. "However! it's for you to decide."
"Yes," said the District Officer firmly. "Well! goodnight, Rex! I shan't be back, child, till breakfast to-morrow."
"Where are you going, Daddy?" asked the boy.
"I'm going to do durshan," replied his father carelessly.
The child rose and came towards the table with shining eyes, the medal in his hand.
"Daddy!" he said, "I should like to do 'durshan' too. Mayn't I?"
His father shook his head and smiled. "Impossible, Rex! You can't ride forty miles over the desert along a railway as I shall, can you? You wouldn't like to do what Daddy's got to do to-night, I can tell you, young man! Wait a while! Your turn'll come." He was busy locking the confidential box.
"But I meant here, Daddy," persisted the child.