The crowd grinned widely at the praise, and, as the combatants struggled and swayed, discussed their family history and took sides, after the manner of crowds all over the world. Quite a breath of anxiety ran through it as a fall came, but came sideways. There was no dust on the back yet!--there would not be!--yes! there would. Aha! aha! there _was_, surely! There would have been, doubtless, for the uppermost boy's small brown hand had freed itself for a second from its grip and sought blindly on the ground for that recognised weapon in Indian wrestling, dust for the adversary's eyes, had not Jân-Ali-shân, seeing the action, sprung to his feet, stooped over the writhing figures, and seizing the top one by the scruff of its neck, held it up by one hand and shaken it as a terrier shakes a rat. 'None o' yer monkey tricks, none o' yer _niggar blarneying_, you young sneak,' he said roughly, as he dropped his whimpering prisoner from mid air, 'or I'll make _mutti_[9] of you. _Bus!_ (enough). T'other Johnny's _jeetgia_ (won). Here, sonny! take your _do paisa_.' The crowd, however, which had been betting freely on the event, hesitated; the supporters of the dust-thrower grumbled. They were headed by Govind, who began with great pomp-- 'I would have you aware, sir, that use of dust is not non-regulation in our code; therefore the other boy is victor. John Ellison looked at him condescendingly, and turned up the cuffs of his coat with unnecessary elaboration. 'Ain't it in your code, _baboo_?' he said, with equally elaborate civility, 'an' t'other chap 'as won, has he? I'm glad t'hear it. But this is my show, and, 'by the Lord 'oo made me! I'm goin' to run it myself. An' if any gentleman 'as a objection to make, let 'im make it now, or for ever after 'old 'is peace.' The crowd made way for him hastily, as he drove a three-feet passage through it with his elbows; but as he walked jauntily down the bazaar, the boys fell in behind him and kept step, as he did, to the 'Wedding March,' which he whistled in reminiscent continuation of his last words. For they knew Jân-Ali-shân of old as one who, drunk or sober, always had a reward for fair fighting. 'What did the _M'lechcha_[10] say?' asked a grumbler who did not know English. 'That 'twas nothing to him what was our custom. It was his, and that settled it. It is their word! Well! let them say it! We will see, brothers, if it is true, will we not?' replied Govind viciously. A murmur of approval ran through the bystanders, but an old dodderer with a white beard, who, in Eastern fashion, was dozing through his days, waiting for death, crouched up comfortably on a string bed set in the sun, said dreamily-- 'Didst say it was Jân-Ali-shân? Yea! it was his word. I have heard him say it; and he keeps it, my sons! he keeps it!' Govind turned on the speaker scornfully. 'Those were other times, _baba_, and another Jân-Ali-shân. The times have changed and men too----'