“I should say there won’t be much ruin left when you have done with it,” said Colonel Graham. “It’s a mere coincidence that our largest godown turns out to be in the way of the canal extension works, and has been condemned. There would be no harm in storing the corn and a few other little trifles in the vaults under the club-house, and it would give us an excuse for posting a sentry here at night.”
“Good,” said Dick, in his turn. “What accomplished deceivers we shall be by the time this is over, if we live to see it!”
“You think things are in a bad way?”
“What do you think yourself?”
“I? I have no opinion. You have been on this frontier much longer than I have, and you are in political charge. I’ve seen enough to know that there’s something queer going on, that’s all.”
“I’ll tell you one thing that’s going on. Five times in the last fortnight I have received secret information of tribal gatherings which were to be held without my knowledge. Of course I made a point of turning up, and behaving just as if I had received an invitation in due form.”
“Well, that was all right, so far.”
“Yes, but think of the jirgahs that I did not hear of. What went on at them?”
“I see; it looks bad. What do you propose doing?”
“What ought to be done is to revive the martial law proclamation, which has been in abeyance for the last four years. But I am not supreme here just now.”