"You're goin' to fail here, too. I've got a tender regard for my liberty, an' that's why I was runnin' away from the show grounds. There was a fracas turned on in the side-show tent, an' I got mixed up in it. Durin' the row I lost a letter that came to me by mail—a letter that contained somethin' for you. Ben Ali, in my letter, said where he wanted to meet you. I don't know what he said in your letter, as that was in Hindoostanee."
Dhondaram's eyes glowed expectantly, and he held out his hand.
"The writing, sahib."
"I haven't got it. Didn't I just tell you it was lost? That's what made me bolt from the grounds. One of Motor Matt's friends got the thing, and when I tried to get it, Burton took possession of it. If that letter's ever translated, I'll bet it contains stuff that would make the show too hot to hold me. I got away while there was time—but there wasn't any too much time, at that. If——"
Dhondaram drew back.
"Motor Matt, sahib," muttered Dhondaram, "he's listening to your talk."
The prisoner had opened his eyes, and the keen glance of the Hindoo had detected it. Both Dhondaram and Wily turned their gaze on Matt.