"Not yet, sahib," answered Dhondaram. "It is well. He shall not waken in this world. The goddess Kali——"
Dhondaram did not finish the sentence. He had referred to the malign Hindoo deity invoked by thugs, and it may be he thought the talk unsuited to American ears. Lifting himself on his knees, he drew from the breast of his jacket a glittering blade.
The next moment Wily Bill had caught his arm.
"Chuck it!" he growled sternly.
The Hindoo turned his glittering eyes on the "barker."
"Sahib, you do not understood," said he, in a hissing voice.
"I understood you're intendin' to use the knife," answered Wily Bill, "an' I won't have it. What d'you take me for? They don't hang people in this State, but I don't intend to pass the rest o' my days in the 'pen.' Put that knife back where you took it from."
"It is my duty to do this thing," flared the Hindoo.
"Go on!"
"Ben Ali saved my life in my own country, and I joined the show of Burra Burton because he told me. I tried to remove Motor Matt because he told me. That will pay my debt to Ben Ali. I failed in my work while I was with the show, but now——"