It was Ahmed's suggestion that they in turn should bury the filigree

basket. He reasoned that if they attempted to proceed with it they

would be followed and sooner or later set upon by Umballa and the men

he had won away from the village chief. The poor fishermen were gold

mad and at present not accountable for what they did or planned to do.

He advanced that Umballa would have no difficulty in rousing them to

the pitch of murder. Umballa would have at his beck and call no less

than twenty men, armed and ruthless. Some seventy miles beyond was

British territory and wherever there was British territory there were

British soldiers. With them they would return, leaving the women in

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safety behind.

"The commissioner there will object," said the colonel.

"No, Sahib," replied Ahmed. "The Mem-sahib has every right in the

world to this treasure. You possess the documents to prove it, and

nothing more would be necessary to the commissioner."

"But, Ahmed," interposed Bruce, "we are none of us British subjects."

"What difference will that make, Sahib?"

"Quite enough. England is not in the habit of protecting anybody but

her own subjects. We should probably be held up till everything was

verified at Allaha; and the priests there would not hesitate to charge

us with forgery and heaven knows what else. Let us bury the basket, by

all means, return for it and carry it away piecemeal. To carry it away

as it is, in bulk, would be courting suicide."

Ahmed scratched his chin. Trust a white man for logic.

"And, besides," went on Bruce, "the news would go all over the Orient

and the thugs would come like flies scenting honey. No; this must be

kept secret if we care to get away with it. It can not be worth less

than a million. And I've known white men who would cut our throats for

a handful of rupees."

For the first time since the expedition started out the colonel became

normal, a man of action, cool in the head, and foresighted.

"Ahmed, spread out the men around the camp," he ordered briskly.

"Instruct them to shoot over the head of any one who approaches; this

the first time. The second time, to kill. Bruce has the right idea;

so let us get busy. Over there, where that boulder is. The ground

will be damp and soft under it, and when we roll it back there will be

no sign of its having been disturbed. I used to cache ammunition that

way. Give me that spade."

It was good to Kathlyn's ears to hear her father talk like this.