"That doesn't look like it," interrupted John Carruthers, pointing to a group in the verandah; for at that moment the car swept easily into the gateway of Horace Alexander's house. The latter frowned, for Rex's army was awaiting them, drawn up to stiff military salute, while in front of them, his small broad face full of smiles, was Rex himself holding a box in his hand.
"We got it, Daddy!" he shouted. "We got it all 'wight, and the men 'wan away, and Baba-jee emptied it, because he was the older-est, and it's all quite 'wight."
"Good God," cried John Carruthers, leaping out of the car, his eyes almost out of his head. "It's an infernal machine. I--I--I--'ve seen--'em--before--I--I----"
Horace Alexander turned pale as ashes. "Put it down, Rex. Gently--gently--but--but----"
Old Bisvâs salaamed down to the ground. "The Presence need not fear. The child did not touch it, of course, till the poisonous thing had been emptied of its venom."
"But how----" began Horace Alexander helplessly.
John Carruthers, however, had his wits about him, and said in a low voice, "Look here, sir! This had better be kept dark; for the present, anyhow."
Old Imân, who understood a little English, nodded approvingly. "Without doubt it is a concealed word," he said suavely. "And so I told Bisvâs. Therefore none know of it save those here present. So we had to do often in Mutiny time when news meant much; and Gineral-Jullunder-Jullunder-sahib-bahadur would say----"
The police officer cut the old man's reminiscence short. "You have done well, risildar-jee," he said curtly, but the praise brought an unwonted flush to the withered cheek. "We'd better hear the story in camera, sir."
So the five old warriors filed into the office room, the doors were shut, and Rex sate on his father's knee, while John Carruthers carefully examined the infernal machine which had been laid on the table.