“Maybe. But you are no fool, Ommonee! You had better go quickly, before those Lamas find some way of making trouble for you.”
Ommony accepted that advice, although he did not believe that, if they really were Lamas, they would go out of their way to make trouble for any one outside their own country. It is one thing to attack an intruder; quite another thing to follow a man through the streets and murder him. He was glad he had hurt nobody. Dawa Tsering’s hurt was plainly not serious. There is no satisfaction whatever in violence (if it can possibly be avoided) to a man of Ommony’s temperament. He walked in a hurry along the narrow, winding passageways and found the street again, bought food for Diana, gave her the package to carry (for she was temperamentally dangerous in a crowd after having used her jaws in action, unless given something definite to do), and after fifteen minutes’ search found a gharri, in which he drove to McGregor’s office. McGregor was not there, so he pursued him to his bungalow, where he fed Diana and examined curios for fifteen minutes before deciding what to say.
McGregor understood that perfectly. He might not know Ommony as he knew files, the law of probabilities, and criminal statistics; he might, from deep experience, mistrust his own opinion; but he did know that when Ommony poked around in that way, picking up things and replacing them, it was wise to wait and not ask questions. He smoked and watched his servant putting studs into a clean dress-shirt.
“Have you one man you can absolutely bet on, who could take a package to Tilgaun and could be trusted not to monkey with it on the way, or lose it, or let it get stolen?” he asked at last.
“Number 17—Aaron Macauley, the Eurasian, is leaving for Simla on to-night’s train. He would probably want to spend a day or two in Simla, but he could go on to Tilgaun after that. He’s quite dependable.”
“Yes. I’d trust Aaron Macauley. I want a small box, stout paper, string and sealing-wax.”
McGregor produced them and watched Ommony wrap up the piece of jade and seal it with his own old-fashioned signet-ring. He addressed the package to Miss Hannah Sanburn at the Tilgaun Mission.
“Better tell Macauley it contains bank-notes,” said Ommony. “That’ll give him a sense of importance and keep him from being too curious. Tell him to ask Miss Sanburn to keep the package there for me until I come.”
“All right. Now what’s the theory?”
“Nothing much. I was attacked just now—not serious. The man who got the worst of it will join us after dinner. I’ll give you all the grizzly details then. Might possibly surprise you. See you again at Mrs. Cornock-Campbell’s.”