He was well past middle age, yellow-brown as to face, deep hollows under the cheek bones, his scanty hair matching his face, except where it was streaked with white. The girl installed herself snugly on the foot of the bed, sitting cross-legged. "You've been sleeping heavily, _Sher Singh_," she observed reproachfully, giving the man his native surname, "and that means you aren't well. I have news." She paused triumphantly, then bubbled spontaneously into speech. "Such news. _Aie_. Captain Robert Gray is here, in Ram Singh's tent. He is alone, with a servant. He is a big man, not ill-looking, but awkward--very. He stands so much on his dignity. Really, it was quite ridiculous"--she laughed agreeably--"and I was very nicely entertained. He was brought in by the Sikhs, after trying to steal our ponies----" "Lifting our horses!" Sir Lionel sat bolt upright and flushed. "Why, the scoundrel----" "I mean his servant was. Captain Gray was innocent, but I was not inclined to let him off easily----" Mary's conception of important news did not satisfy the explorer's desire for facts. A peculiarly jealous expression crept into the man's open face. "Has he a well-equipped caravan?" "Two mules, a gun and a blanket." "How extraordinary!" Sir Lionel stared at his niece. "No camels?" "Not one." Mary yawned, and, with a glance at the clock, began to unbind her heavy hair. It was very late. Her fingers worked dexterously, while Sir Lionel weighed her words. Unlike his niece, he was an individual of slow mental process, perhaps too much schooled by routine. "Mary! How did you--ah--behave to Captain Gray?" "I took him prisoner." The girl smiled mischievously. "He was so humiliated, Uncle Singh." "I hope," observed Sir Lionel severely, "you warned him of our identity." "Rather. But he implied he was after big game." Sir Lionel reached to the light stand and secured a cigarette, which he lit. His eyes hardened purposefully. "I'll _trek_ for Ansichow, at once. I must buy up all the available camels. If you will retire to your tent, and send my _syce_----" "Indeed, no." She frowned worriedly. "You haven't had your sleep yet." Sir Lionel caught her hand in his. "No, Mary. You must be aware what this expedition means to me. I must be first in Ansichow, and into the Gobi. Failure is not to be thought of. Dear girl, I have thrown my reputation into the dice bowl----" "I know." She patted his hand lightly, and her eyes were serious. "Only I wish you would let me help a little more." She shook free the coils of her bronze hair and placed a small hand firmly over his lips. "I know what you want to say--that you are being ever so kind and indulging to let me come at all. As if I could be left at Simla when you went on your biggest hunt, Uncle Singh. Well," she sighed, "if you must go buy camels, you will. But"--she brightened--"please leave the wandering American to me. I saw him first."