"They might get on all right, but
everybody is pretty slack just now. Andy has a touch of fever, and some
of the men may get leave for shooting. I must get back at once."
"You can't. Why, man, you couldn't get half way. And what's more, I
can't go. This place wants all the looking after it can get. A row in
the hills means a very good possibility of a row in Bardur, and that is
too dangerous a game. And besides myself there is scarcely a man in the
place who counts. Logan has gone to Gilgit, and there's nobody left but
boys."
"If you don't mind I should like to go," said Lewis shamefacedly.
"You," they cried. "Do you know the road?"
"I've been there before, and I remember it more or less. Besides, it is
really my show this time. I got the warning, and I want the credit."
And he smiled.
"The road's bound to be risky," said Thwaite thoughtfully. "I don't
feel inclined to let you run your neck into danger like this."
Lewis was busy turning over the problem in his mind. The presence of
the man Holm seemed the one link of proof he needed. He had his word
that there were signs of trouble in the place, and that the Bada-Mawidi
were ill at ease. Whatever game Marker was playing, on this matter he
seemed to have spoken in good faith. Here was a clear piece of work for
him. And even if it was fruitless it would bring him nearer to the
frontier; his expedition to the north would be begun.
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