They will do their duty if they can
find it out. Now there is but one plan, to create a duty for them which
will take them out of the way."
The chief was listening with half-closed eyes. He saw new trouble for
himself and was not cheerful.
"Do you know how many men Holm has with him at the Forza camp?"
"A score and a half. Some of my people passed that way yesterday, when
the soldiers were parading."
"And there are two more camps?
"There are two beyond the Nazri Pass, on the fringe of the Doorab hills.
We call the places Khautmi-sa and Khautmi-bana, but the English have
their own names for them."
Marker nodded.
"I know the places. They are Gurkha camps. The officers are called
Mitchinson and St. John. They will give us little trouble. But the
Forza garrison is too near the pass for safety, and yet far enough away
for my plans." And for a moment the man's eyes were abstracted, as if in
deep thought.
"I have another thing to tell of the Forza camp," the chief interrupted.
"The captain, the man whom they call Holm, is sick, so sick that he
cannot remain there. He went out shooting and came too near to
dangerous places, so a bullet of one of my people's guns found his leg.
He will be coming to Bardur to-morrow. Is it your wish that he be
prevented?
"Let him come," said Marker. "He will suit my purpose. Now I will tell
you your task, Fazir Khan, for it is time that you took the road.
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