“You would, would you?” bellowed Marten.
“Ah! The sahib speaks Hindustanee?” gasped the sergeant. “What is your name, please, sir?”
“Look here,” growled Marten, “I’ll give you my name if you’ll promise not to ask any more fool questions.”
The native smiled with delight and poised his pencil.
“And the name, sir?”
“Higgeldy Piggeldy,” said Marten.
“Ah! And how is it spelled, please, sahib?”
The sergeant wrote the words slowly and solemnly at my companion’s dictation.
“And which is the sahib’s birthplace?” he wheedled.
“You bloody liar,” roared Marten; “didn’t you say you wouldn’t ask anything else?”