"Wonder where Granville got that?"
"Oh, rumors are plentiful, especially at stations like this where everybody's chief occupation is talk."
"That all?"
Manlove nodded and said nothing, for he knew Trent.
"Have you approximated the value of the stolen gems?" queried the latter, then went on: "Millions of pounds! And have you wondered how the devil they're going to hide the loot, or get it out of India? Such well known jewels can't be sold—"
"Unless they're re-cut," put in Manlove. He smiled wisely. "By Kali and all the other deities, you don't mean that you, expert in cholera and dysentery, are about to—" He chuckled. "Well, I'm damned!"
Trent moved to a desk in a corner of the room, unlocked it and took out a long, official-looking document. This he handed to Manlove, then resumed his seat. The latter unfolded it and let his eyes travel down the sheet.
"Has the heat gone to their heads at Delhi?" he demanded when he had finished. "Almighty God, why detach a perfectly good doctor, when they have a whole list of Secret Service men?"
Trent only smiled. The younger man waved his hand toward the paper.
"Surely this isn't all?"