The squire bowed his head in disciplined obedience and led
the horse away.
An hour later--evening was drawing on--he came back, followed by a
somewhat ruffianly-looking half-breed Rajput-Punjaubi. The new man was
rather ragged and lacked one eye, but with the single eye he had he
looked straight at his prospective master. Mahommed Gunga glared at
him, but the man did not quail or shrink.
"This fellow wishes honorable service, sahib." The squire spoke as
though he were calling his master's attention to a horse that was for
sale. "I have seen his family; I have inquired about him; and I have
explained to him that unless he serves at thee faithfully his wife and
his man child will die at my hands in his absence."
"Can he groom a horse?"
"So he says, sahib, and so say others."
"Can he fight?"
"He slew the man with his bare hands who pricked his eye out with a
sword."
"Oh! What payment does he ask?"
"He leaves that matter to your honor's pleasure."
"Good. Instruct him, then. Set him to cleaning my horse and then
return here."
The squire was back again within five minutes and stood before Mahommed
Gunga in silent expectation.
"I shall miss thee," said Mahommed Gunga after five minutes'
reflection. "It is well that I have other servants in the north.
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