Dick nodded, poker face set solid.
The maharajah paused. His advantage was that his face was all smothered in the bandages, and the dim light in the tunnel was another good ally. His back, too, was toward the entrance, so that the American's chance of reading between the words was remarkably slight. Dick's back was against the uncompleted masonry.
"Could I—eh—count on you for—eh—very absolute silence?"
"I talk like that parrot in the story," Dick answered.
"You—eh—know a little now of Sialpore, Mr. Blaine. You—eh—understand how easily—eh—rumors get about. A little—eh—foundation and—eh— up-side-down pyramids of fancy—eh? You comprehend me?"
"Sure, I get you."
"Eh—you have a good working party."
"Fine!" said Dick. "Just about broke in. Got the gang working pretty well to rights at last."
"Would you—eh—it would take a long time to get such another party of laborers—eh—trained to work well and swiftly?"
"Months!" said Dick. "Unless you've got tame wizards up your sleeve."