"I - I did not get drunk - till - till - Protector of the Poor, the mare rolled."
"All horses roll at Dhunnera. The road is too narrow before that, and they smell where the other horses have rolled. This the bullock-drivers told me when they came there," said Adam.
"She rolled. The saddle was cut, and the curb-chain was lost."
"See!" said Adam, tugging a curb-chain from his pocket. "That woman in the shop gave it to me for a love-gift. Beshakl said it was not his when I showed it. But I knew."
"Then they in the grog-shop, knowing that I was the servant of the Presence, said that unless I drank and spent money they would tell."
"A lie. A lie," said Strickland. "Son of an owl, speak truth now at least."
"Then I was afraid because I had lost the curb-chain, so I cut the saddle across and about."
"She did not roll, then?" said Strickland, bewildered and very angry.
"It was the curb-chain that was lost. That was the beginning of all. I cut the saddle to look as though she had rolled, and went to drink in the shop. I drank, and there was a fray. The rest I have forgotten, till I was recovered."
"And the mare the while? What of the mare?"