"High priest is one thing," Bamjee remarked to himself. "High priest's deputy assistant walking alibi is camel of a different smell. Noose that would neatly fit neck of high priest would not make finger-ring for expert alibi. Must use ax--verbally that is--plus irritant. An irritant deputy assistant alibi is good--as ginger under horse's tail--will kick his master into difficulties. Now then--" * * * * * The bolt rattled again. A temple servant entered, threw a mat on the floor and walked out. Bamjee spread the mat and sat on it, resuming his look of molded impassivity. A Brahmin entered, well-fed, rather athletic-looking, haughty, with the self-esteem derived from a monopoly of wisdom, carrying his sacred mat under his arm. He spread the mat as far away from Bamjee as he could and sat down, muttering incantations calculated to preserve him from contamination. "I kiss feet," Bamjee murmured with almost as much perfunctory insolence as the Brahmin conveyed with his answering, equally formal, blessing. "You are a spy," said the Brahmin. "I am," said Bamjee. That admission rather took the Brahmin's breath away. He blinked perceptibly. There was a long pause. Presently: "You have the impudence to try to spy on us?" "Have? No. Had? Yes. No further need. Have found out what is necessary. Business of bargain now." "Miscreant! Who would bargain with you?" "Any sort of half-wise, sanctimonious sweeper of crumbs of sanctity who did not want to pass up any wise bets." "Do you know what happens to fools who are disrespectful to the Brahmins?" "I know what happens to Brahmins who shut their eyes to opportunity. They are just like other people--only more so. Esteeming themselves higher they fall harder and it hurts worse. This _babu_ is versed in several theologies, including atheism and relativity--perfectly familiar with theory that all is illusion and nothing provable. Am possibly a hypothetical assemblage of imaginary atoms, saying nothing to nobody in a vacuum abhorred by nonexistent nature. Nevertheless, you kid yourself you are somebody very important. Self, am pragmatist with positivistic tendencies that tell me your fall from your high place would hurt your imaginary feelings more than my fall from my low place could hurt mine. So you had better get down off that high place. It is much more comfortable down here." The Brahmin scowled. Special sanctity can endure all inflictions except ridicule. "Concerning what do you wish to drive a bargain?" And now Bamjee showed genius. He knew he had pitted himself against a system--a morass of metaphysical influence that could swamp any individual as surely as stone age swamps yielded and smothered the mastodons' strength. He who would prance upon swamps requires agility and wit. Metaphysics must be met with metaphysics; bludgeons are no use whatever.