“Are there devils in Tophet! Fire and my veins are one!”
The man did not notice the eagerness beaming out of King's horn-rimmed spectacles, but Ismail did; it seemed to him time to prove his virtues as assistant.
“This is the famous hakim Kurram Khan,” he boasted. “He can cure anything, and for a very little fee!”
“Nay, for no fee at all in this case!” said King.
The man looked incredulous, but King drew the covering from his row of instruments and bottles.
“Take a chance!” he advised. “None but the brave wins anything!”
The man sat down, as if he would argue the point at length, but Ismail and Darya Khan were new to the business and enthusiastic. They had him down, held tight on the floor to the huge amusement of the rest, before the man could even protest; and his howls of rage did him no good, for Ismail drove the hilt of a knife between his open jaws to keep them open.
A very large proportion of King's stores consisted of morphia and cocaine. He injected enough cocaine to deaden the man's nerves, and allowed it time to work. Then he drew out three back teeth in quick succession, to make sure he had the right one.
Ismail let the victim up, and Darya Khan gave him water in a brass cup. Utterly without pain for the first time for days, the man was as grateful as a wolf freed from a trap.
“Allah reward thee, since the service was free!” he smirked.