Samson whispered. Even those four solid walls were not discreet enough.
"The treasure of Sialpore is buried in the River Palace grounds! Millions!
Think of it—Millions! Lakhs and crores!"
The high commissioner whistled.
"That 'ud mean something to the province, wouldn't it! Show me your proofs."
How Samson got around the fact that he had no actually definite proofs, he never told. But he convinced the high commissioner, who never told either, unless to somebody at Simla, who buried the secret among the State Department files.
"I'll wire Simla," said the high commissioner presently, "for permission to authorize you to set your signature to that contract on behalf of government. The minute I get it I'll wire you to Sialpore and confirm by letter. Now you'd better get back to your post in a hurry. And don't forget, it would be difficult in a case like this to err on the side of silence, Samson. Who'll have to be told?"
"Nobody but Willoughby de Wing. I'll have to ask him for troops to guard the River Palace grounds. There's a confounded American digging this minute in the River Palace grounds by arrangement with Gungadhura. He'll have to be stopped, and I'll have to make some sort of explanation."
"What's an American doing in Sialpore?"
"Prospecting. Has a contract with Gungadhura."
"Um-m-m! We'll have Standard Oil in next! Better point out to Utirupa that contracts with foreigner's aren't regarded cordially."