"Can you beat it!" exclaimed Dan Carter in astonishment, on hearing the English words spoken among a savage tribe in the jungle.
A chuckle was heard from the tangle of foliage above the heads of the two boys as they drew rein where the jungle path entered a clearing.
"Advance, Dick Sahib! Mahatma Sikandar speaks!"
"Don't go!" whispered Dan. "There's something spooky about this. How does he know your name? Maybe it's a trap. If we go out there in the open they will use us for targets."
"Keep quiet, Dan, I want to speak to the man. Besides they can shoot us here if they have a mind to do it. If there is a trap we're in it right now," Dick answered impatiently.
But Dan could not keep quiet. Before Dick could stop him the boy called out:
"Say, Mister, I bet you don't know what my name is."
A hearty laugh issued from the hiding place of the Mahatma. "Dan Sahib is young. After many lives, he will gain wisdom—perhaps!"
Dan stared above his head in speechless amazement. Here they were miles away from any one they knew, yet this man had called them both by their names and in their own tongue.
"Who is he, anyway?" whispered Dan.