'Then order him to be jolly-dam'quick.Good-night,Lurgan.'The Babu swung out with the gait of a bogged cow.
When they were telling over the day's list of visitors,Lurgan Sahib asked Kim who he thought the man might be.
'God knows!'said Kim cheerily.The tone might almost have deceived Mahbub Ali,but it failed entirely with the healer of sick pearls.
'That is true.God,He knows;but I wish to know what you think.'
Kim glanced sideways at his companion,whose eye had a way of compelling truth.
'I -I think he will want me when I come from the school,but'-confidentially,as Lurgan Sahib nodded approval 'I do not understand how he can wear many dresses and talk many tongues.'
'Thou wilt understand many things later.He is a writer of tales for a certain Colonel.His honour is great only in Simla,and it is noticeable that he has no name,but only a number and a letter -that is a custom among us.'
'And is there a price upon his head too -as upon Mah -all the others?'
'Not yet;but if a boy rose up who is now sitting here and went -look,the door is open!-as far as a certain house with a red-painted veranda,behind that which was the old theatre in the Lower Bazar,and whispered through the shutters:'Hurree Chunder Mookerjee bore the bad news of last month',that boy might take away a belt full of rupees.'
'How many?'said Kim promptly.
'Five hundred -a thousand -as many as he might ask for.'
'Good.And for how long might such a boy live after the news was told?'
He smiled merrily at Lurgan's Sahib's very beard.
'Ah!That is to be well thought of.Perhaps if he were very clever,he might live out the day -but not the night.By no means the night.'
'Then what is the Babu's pay if so much is put upon his head?'
'Eighty -perhaps a hundred -perhaps a hundred and fifty rupees;but the pay is the least part of the work.From time to time,God causes men to be born -and thou art one of them -who have a lust to go abroad at the risk of their lives and discover news -today it may be of far-off things,tomorrow of some hidden mountain,and the next day of some near-by men who have done a foolishness against the State.These souls are very few;and of these few,not more than ten are of the best.Among these ten I count the Babu,and that is curious.How great,therefore,and desirable must be a business that brazens the heart of a Bengali!'
'True.But the days go slowly for me.I am yet a boy,and it is only within two months I learned to write Angrezi.Even now I cannot read it well.And there are yet years and years and long years before I can be even a chain-man.'
'Have patience,Friend of all the World'-Kim started at the title.
'Would I had a few of the years that so irk thee.I have proved thee in several small ways.This will not be forgotten when I make my report to the Colonel Sahib.'Then,changing suddenly into English with a deep laugh:
'By Jove!O'Hara,I think there is a great deal in you;but you must not become proud and you must not talk.You must go back to Lucknow and be a good little boy and mind your book,as the English say,and perhaps,next holidays if you care,you can come back to me!'Kim's face fell.'Oh,I mean if you like.I know where you want to go.'
Four days later a seat was booked for Kim and his small trunk at the rear of a Kalka tonga.His companion was the whale-like Babu,who,with a fringed shawl wrapped round his head,and his fat openwork-stockinged left leg tucked under him,shivered and grunted in the morning chill.
'How comes it that this man is one of us ?'thought Kim considering the jelly back as they jolted down the road;and the reflection shrew him into most pleasant day-dreams.Lurgan Sahib had given him five rupees -a splendid sum -as well as the assurance of his protection if he worked.
Unlike Mahbub,Lurgan Sahib had spoken most explicitly of the reward that would follow obedience,and Kim was content.If only,like the Babu,he could enjoy the dignity of a letter and a number -and a price upon his head!Some day he would be all that and more.Some day he might be almost as great as Mahbub Ali!The housetops of his search should be half India;he would follow Kings and Ministers,as in the old days he had followed vakils and lawyers'touts across Lahore city for Mahbub Ali's sake.
Meantime,there was the present,and not at all unpleasant,fact of St Xavier's immediately before him.There would be new boys to condescend to,and there would be tales of holiday adventures to hear.Young Martin,son of the tea-planter at Manipur,had boasted that he would go to war,with a rifle,against the head-hunters.That might be,but it was certain young Martin had not been blown half across the forecourt of a Patiala palace by an explosion of fireworks;nor had he...Kim fell to telling himself the story of his own adventures through the last three months.
He could paralyse St Xavier's -even the biggest boys who shaved -with the recital,were that permitted.But it was,of course,out of the question.
There would be a price upon his head in good time,as Lurgan Sahib had assured him;and if he talked foolishly now,not only would that price never be set,but Colonel Creighton would cast him off -and he would be left to the wrath of Lurgan Sahib and Mahbub Ali -for the short space of life that would remain to him.
'So I should lose Delhi for the sake of a fish,'was his proverbial philosophy.It behoved him to forget his holidays (there would always remain the fun of inventing imaginary adventures)and,as Lurgan Sahib had said,to work.
Of all the boys hurrying back to St Xavier's,from Sukkur in the sands to Galle beneath the palms,none was so filled with virtue as Kimball O'Hara,jiggeting down to Umballa behind Hurree Chunder Mookerjee,whose name on the books of one section of the Ethnological Survey was R17.
And if additional spur were needed,the Babu supplied it.After a huge meal at Kalka,he spoke uninterruptedly.Was Kim going to school?Then he,an MA of Calcutta University,would explain the advantages of education.
