“Rather. We discussed it for hours. You don't know what it meant to me. A wonderful man. Imam Din, was not our Hajji marvellous?” “Most marvellous! It was all through the Hajji that we found the money for our cotton-play.” Imam Din had moved, I fancy, behind Strickland's chair. “Yes. It must have been dead against his convictions too. He brought me news when I was down with fever at Dupé that one of Ibn Makarrah's men was parading through my District with a bunch of slaves--in the Fork!” “What's the matter with the Fork, that you can't abide it?” said Stalky. Adam's voice had risen at the last word. “Local etiquette, sir,” he replied, too earnest to notice Stalky's atrocious pun. “If a slaver runs slaves through British territory he ought to pretend that they're his servants. Hawkin' 'em about in the Fork--the forked stick that you put round their necks, you know--is insolence--same as not backing your topsails in the old days. Besides, it unsettles the District.” “I thought you said slavers didn't come your way,” I put in. “They don't. But my Chief was smoking 'em out of the North all that season, and they were bolting into French territory any road they could find. My orders were to take no notice so long as they circulated, but open slave-dealing in--the--Fork, was too much. I couldn't go myself, so I told a couple of our Makalali police and Imam Din to make talk with the gentleman one time. It was rather risky, and it might have been expensive, but it turned up trumps. They were back in a few days with the slaver (he didn't show fight) and a whole crowd of witnesses, and we tried him in my bedroom, and fined him properly. Just to show you how demoralized the brute must have been (Arabs often go dotty after a defeat), he'd snapped up four or five utterly useless Sheshaheli, and was offering 'em to all and sundry along the road. Why, he offered 'em to you, didn't he, Imam Din?” “I was witness that he offered man-eaters for sale,” said Imam Din. “Luckily for my cotton-scheme, that landed him both ways. You see, he had slaved and exposed slaves for sale in British territory. That meant the double fine if I could get it out of him.” “What was his defence?” said Strickland, late of the Punjab Police. “As far as I remember--but I had a temperature of 104 degrees at the time--he'd mistaken the meridians of longitude. Thought he was in French territory. Said he'd never do it again, if we'd let him off with a fine. I could have shaken hands with the brute for that. He paid up cash like a motorist and went off one time.” “Did you see him?” “Ye-es. Didn't I, Imam Din?” “Assuredly the Sahib both saw and spoke to the slaver. And the Sahib also made a speech to the man-eaters when he freed them, and they swore to supply him with labour for all his cotton-play. The Sahib leaned on his own servant's shoulder the while.”