“What do you know of my son, Jai Singh?” demanded Jefferson Arnold. “I am Mr. Leslie’s father.” “Jai Singh knows that,” was the reply. “He sees Leslie’s face when he looks at you. I cannot tell anything of Sahib Leslie except that he has gone into the great mountains far up the Brahmapootra.” “Did you see him?” “No. But some of my young men have.” “When?” “It is many days, sahib. I cannot tell how many times the moon has come and gone since. But I came down to the sea to find those who might belong to Sahib Leslie.” “Yes?” “And I burned certain herbs in the forest, and I called to me those who tell me what I want to know. They told me you and Sahib Carter, and his friend, who is Chick, were to be here. So, in my boat, with my men, I came. I am here.” Jai Singh made another obeisance. Then he waited for some one else to speak. As is customary with Hindus of high caste, Jai Singh had enough dignity for a justice of the supreme court, added to a certain grace and nobility that belongs peculiarly to his race when they feel themselves entitled to consideration. “You came down in the boat all the way along the Brahmapootra River?” asked Nick. “Yes.” “Why didn’t you use the railroad?” “I do not know anything about that,” returned Jai Singh. “Only once have I been carried along by the smoke and fire, and that was with you. It has been the custom of my fathers to go where they would in their boat. I did the same as they,” returned Jai Singh simply. “But I will go in the train with you.” “All right! There is no time to lose.” Nick Carter turned to Captain Southern. “Can you run right in to the wharf without trouble, captain?” “Yes. I only waited to see what those fellows in the boat were after. Calcutta is a white man’s city--not the sort of place where lawlessness is likely to be found. But you never know. Not so many scores of miles in the back country the people are as wild as those in Calcutta are quiet and commonplace.” “That’s true,” agreed Jefferson Arnold. “Every time I come to India I am struck by the fact that it is a land of amazing contrasts. It never could surprise me to meet a tiger walking along the streets, arm in arm with a cobra de capello, right there in Calcutta. It isn’t New York by a long chalk. Yet you will find white women, in European clothing, shopping in that city, over there, just as you will in Thirty-ninth Street and Fifth Avenue.” Jai Singh was instructed to get his boat, as well as the crew, on board the ship, and the captain immediately gave orders to steam up to the regular wharf belonging to Jefferson Arnold. Nick Carter got Jai Singh in a retired place on deck, and the two talked earnestly for nearly half an hour. At the end of that time the great detective had a plan of action laid out which he followed as soon as the _Marathon_ was warped up to her regular landing place.