"Yes, but how—"
"Never mind how I know—the story's too long. The thing to do is to get troops here without a day's delay."
"But how?"
"Take Raikes, Clarkson, and Doggott and ride like hell to Badshah Junction. Telegraph from there. The four of you ought to be able to fight your way through."
"But, man, my daughter!"
"I know where to find her—or think I do. No matter which, I'll find her and bring her back to you safely, or die trying. You spoke just now of a secret but trustworthy source of information: I work with it this night. I can't mention names—you know why; but that source was in this room ten minutes ago. He's gone after your daughter now. I follow. No—I go alone. It's the only way. I know how you feel about it, but believe me, the thing for you to do is to find some way to summon British troops. Now the quicker you go, the quicker I'm off. I can't—daren't move while you're here."
Farrell eyed him strangely. "I'll go," he said after a pause. "But … why can't I—"
"There are just two white men living, Colonel Farrell, who can go where I am going to look for your daughter to-night. I'm one of them. The other is—you know who."
"One of us is mad," said Farrell with conviction. "I think you are."
"Or else I know what I'm talking about. In either event you only hinder me now. Please go."