A burly Sikh was pointing to the name of General Miltiades Murger and asking for the number printed thereagainst.
The youth handed Rissaldar-Major Shere Singh two labels each bearing the number 99. These, the gallant Native Officer proceeded to tie upon his arms—putting them upside down, as is the custom of the native of India when dealing with anything in any wise reversible.
Mr. Ross-Ellison approached the table, showed his name on the programme and asked for his number—66.
"Tie these on," said he returning to his friend. "By Jove—there's old
Murger's horse," he added—"what a magnificent animal!"
Looking up, the Nut saw Rissaldar-Major Shere Singh mounting the beautiful English hunter—and also saw that he bore the number 66. Therefore the labels handed to him were obviously 99, and as 99 he tied on the 66 of Mr. Ross-Ellison—who observed the fact.
"I am afraid I'm all Pathan at this moment," silently remarked he unto his soul, and smiled an ugly smile.
"Not much good my entering Zuleika against that mare," he said aloud. "It must have cost just about ten times what I paid for her. Never mind though! We'll show up—for the credit of civilians," and he rode into the ring—where a score of horses solemnly walked round and round the Judges and in front of the Grand Stand….
General Murger brought Mrs. Dearman a cup of tea, and, having placed his topi[49] in his chair, went, for a brandy-and-soda and cheroot, to the bar behind the rows of seats.
[49] Sun-helmet.
On his return he beheld his superb and expensive hunter behaving superbly and expensively in the expert hands of Rissaldar-Major Shere Singh.