"I suppose one can take it," he remarked thoughtfully, "that Vinx and Mayne and that good old Moslem johnny know what they're talking about?"
Roy smiled—having jumped at the connection. "I'm afraid," he said, "one can."
"You think big trouble is coming—organised trouble?"
"I do. That is, unless some 'strong silent man' has the pluck to put his foot down in time, and chance the consequences to himself. Thank God, we've another John Lawrence in the Punjab."
"And it's the Punjab that matters——"
"Especially a certain P.C. Regiment—eh?"
Lance was in arms at once:—that meant he had touched the spot. "No flies on the Regiment. Trust Paul. It's only—I get bothered about a Sikh here and there."
"Quite so. The blighters have taken particular pains with the Sikhs. Realising that they'll need some fighting stuff. And Lahore's a bad place. I expect they sneak off to meetings in the City."
"Devil a doubt of it. Mind you, I trust them implicitly. But, outside their own line, they're credulous as children—you know."
"Rather. In Delhi, I had a fair sample of it."