At the end of the third week of Strickland's leave the result of Strickland's labours - labours that had made Mrs. Strickland more indignant against dacoits than any one else - came to hand. The police at Peshawur reported that half the Shubkudder Gang were held at Peshawur to account for the possession of some blankets and a horse-bucket. Strickland's Assistant had also four men under suspicion in his charge; and Imam Din must have stirred up Strickland's Inspector to investigations on his own account, for a string of incoherent telegrams came in from the Club Secretary, in which he entreated, exhorted, and commanded Strickland to take his "mangy havildars" off the club premises. "Your men, in servants' quarters here, examining cook. Marker indignant. Steward threatens resignation. Members furious. Saises stopped on roads. Shut up, or my resignation goes to committee." "Now, I shouldn't in the least wonder," said Strickland, thoughtfully, to his wife, "if the club was not just the place where a man would lie up. Bill Watson isn't at all pleased, though. I think I shall have to cut my leave by a week and go down there. If there's anything to be told, the men will tell me. It will never do for the gang to think they can dacoit my belongings." That was in the forenoon, and Strickland asked me to tiff in to leave me some instructions about his big dog, with authority to rebuke those who did not attend to her. Tietens was growing too old and too fat to live in the plains in summer. When I came, Adam had climbed into his high chair at the table, and Mrs. Strickland seemed ready to weep at any moment over the general misery of things. "I go down the hill to-morrow, little son," said Strickland. "Wherefore?" said Adam, reaching out for a ripe mango and burying his head in it. "Imam Din has caught the men who did the dacoity, and there are also others at Peshawur under suspicion. I must go to see." "Bus!" said Adam, between the sucks at his mango, as Mrs. Strickland tucked the napkin round his neck. "It is enough. Imam Din speaks lies. Do not go." "It is necessary. There has been great dikhdari (trouble-giving]." Adam came out of the fruit for a minute and laughed. Then, returning, he spoke between slow and deliberate mouthfuls. "The dacoits live in Beshakl's head. They will never be caught. All people know that. The cook knows, and the scullion, and Rahim Baksh here." "Nay," said the butler behind his chair, hastily. "What should I know? Nothing at all does the servant of the Presence know." "Accha," said Adam, and sucked on. "Only it is known." "Speak, then," said Strickland. "What dost thou know? Remember the sais was beaten insensible."