"As sure," said Peer Khan, "as of those who have hitherto fallen; to-morrow he will take his last look on Saugor." "Ul-humd-ul-illa!" I exclaimed; "so much the better. And he will be a good bunij, you think?" "He will be worth seven or eight thousand good rupees to you," said the Bhutteara; "and all _nugd_ (ready money) too." "Good again, friend; but why do you not take to the road? You are a likely fellow enough." "Oh, I have tried it already," said he, laughing; "I was out on two expeditions with Ganesha Jemadar. Do you know him?" "I have heard of him," I replied; "he is a leader of note." "He is," said the Bhutteara; "but he is a cruel dog; and to tell the truth--I fear you will think me a coward for it--I did not like the way he treated the poor people he fell in with; so I quitted active work, and only do a little business as you see now, by which I pick up a trifle now and then." "Well," said I, "you do good, it appears; but beware how you act, and see that you do not bully poor Thugs out of their money by threatening to denounce them." The fellow winced a little at my observation, but recovering himself, stoutly protested he had never been guilty of so base an act. Peer Khan threw me a sly look, as much as to say, you have hit the right nail on the head; but I did not press the matter further, for we were completely in his power. "Then," said I, "we start in the morning I suppose?" "Do so," replied the man; "the Sahoukar goes to Jubbulpoor. It would be as well not to show yourselves for some days, as he might take the alarm, and some people of note have disappeared of late on the road." "Now," said I to Peer Khan, "we have no further business here, and I am tired; let us go to the camp. We can send two scouts to remain here, to give us intelligence of the Sahoukar's departure, if necessary." The men were instructed in what they had to do, and we left them and the Bhutteara. "You probed that rascal deeply by what you said," said Peer Khan as we walked along: "it is the very practice by which he gets his money; the fellow is as rich as a Sahoukar by this means, and never omits to levy a contribution on every gang which passes Saugor." "Then," said I, "my mind is made up as to his fate. Such a wretch is not fit to live--a cowardly rascal, who sits at his ease, runs no risk, undergoes no fatigue, and yet gets the largest share of any one. He ought to die. What say you to putting him to death?" "It is a rare plan," replied he; "but how to get him out of the town I know not; he is as wary as a fox." "Oh," said I, "that is more easily managed than you think. The Kafir is fond of money?" "As fond as he is of his own miserable existence." "Then, Peer Khan, we have him. Directly we get to the camp I will send a man with a message, which you shall hear me deliver, and if it does not bring him, call Ameer Ali a father and grandfather of jackasses."