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 NEW NOVEL 
 
 BY THE AUTHOB OF 
 
 Mr Podd of Borneo 
 
 THE SIN OF 
 GODFREY NEIL 
 
 7s. net 
 
 T. WERNER LAURIE LTD.
 
 NEW FICTION 
 
 DAUGHTERS OF HEAVEN 
 
 By VICTORIA CROSS. 
 
 A new volume by the author of " Paula," " Life's Shop 
 Window," etc., containing a frontispiece in colour of the 
 author. 
 
 Crown 8vo. Cloth. 7s. net. 
 
 DESERT LOVE 
 
 By JOAN CONQULST. 
 
 An enthralling tale of passion and romance in the mystic 
 East ... a tale by one who knows and loves the vast 
 stretches of sand . . . one of the most vivid pen-pictures 
 that has appeared for years. 
 
 Crown 8vo. Cloth. 7s. net. 
 
 THE SURRENDER AND OTHER HAPPENINGS 
 By MARY GAUNT, Author of " A Woman in China," 
 
 " A Wind from the Wilderness," etc. 
 
 Of Mrs Mary Gaunt the Globe remarks that " she is a 
 woman whose powers as a raconteur are acknowledged by 
 all ... we may look for something above the average." 
 Crown 8vo. Cloth. 7s. net. 
 
 POD BENDER & CO. 
 
 By GEORGE ALLAN ENGLAND. 
 
 Being the amusing account of the exploits of two modern 
 gentlemen of fortune. In " Pod Bender " the reader will 
 learn what it is to bow-wow up the wrong conifer. 
 
 Crown 8vo. Cloth. 7s. net. 
 
 A VERY BAD WOMAN 
 
 By GERTIE DE S. WENTWORTH-JAMES. Author of 
 
 " Golden Youth," etc. 
 
 This is one of the most daring and startling novels that 
 Gertie de S. Wentworth-James has ever written. 
 Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s. net. 
 
 THE ROUGH ROAD TO THE STARS 
 
 By ANNA FLOYD. Author of " The Woman's Harvest." 
 A Romance of the Royal Air Force. 
 
 Crown 8vo. Cloth. 5s. net. 
 
 MARY ANN 
 
 By GEORGE MOZART. Author of " July." 
 All his life George Mozart has been engaged in making 
 people laugh. Now he turns his attention to realism, and 
 gives us a romance full of tender pathos and picturesque 
 detail. 
 
 Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s. net. 
 
 T. WERNER LAURIE LTD, 30 New Bridge Street
 
 This is the Novel to which Mr Spencer Leigh Hughes, 
 M.P., Mr Barry Pain, and Mr Pett Ridge awarded the Prize 
 of 250 in the Humorous Novel Competition inaugurated by 
 Messrs T. Werner Laurie Ltd. 
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO
 
 Translation, film, dramatic and all other rights whatsoever 
 reserved throughout the world.
 
 The 250 Prize Humorous Novel 
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 BY 
 
 PETER BLUNDELL 
 
 Author of 
 
 "The Finger of Mr Blee," "Love-Birds in the 
 Coconuts," etc. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 T. WERNER LAURIE LTD. 
 30 NEW BRIDGE STREET, E.G. 4.
 
 *->-> 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. INTRODUCING MAUD ANDERBY AND A GREAT 
 
 DETECTIVE - 9 
 
 II. MR PODD PAYS A VISIT TO A RACING STABLE 24 
 
 III. THE DERBY FAVOURITE DISAPPEARS 35 
 
 IV. MAUD ANDERBY MAKES A DISCOVERY, AND 
 
 MR PODD EXHIBITS A BRUISE - 48 
 
 V. THE GREAT DETECTIVE BEGINS HIS INVESTI- 
 GATION - 58 
 VI. THE VISIT OF THE LAMA FROM THIBET - 74 
 VII. MR PODD OBTAINS A CLUE - 87 
 VIII. A YOUNG LADY NAMED NELLY COMES INTO 
 
 THE STORY - - 103 
 
 IX. MR PODD STEALS A CAMEL AND ENCOUNTERS 
 
 THE GREAT DETECTIVE - - 113 
 
 X. THE SEARCH FOR THE MISSING RACEHORSE 
 
 CONTINUES - - 127 
 
 XI. THE RAJAH'S PALACE, AND WHAT WAS 
 
 FOUND THERE - 140 
 
 XII. MAUD ANDERBY RECEIVES A PROPOSAL - 159 
 
 XIII. THE GREAT DETECTIVE HANDS OVER THE 
 
 RACEHORSE - - 170 
 
 XIV. THE RAJAH SHOWS VIOLENCE - 174 
 XV. PODD AND NELLY GO RIDING - - 187 
 
 XVI. MAUD AND NELLY EXCHANGE NEWS - - 201 
 XVII. MR PODD FINDS A BETTER JOB, AND DIS- 
 APPEARS - 214 
 XVIII. THE GREAT DETECTIVE ADVANCES ANOTHER 
 
 THEORY 227 
 
 XIX. THE FAVOURITE APPEARS AND WINS 240 
 
 XX. MAUD ANDERBY DECIDES TO SETTLE DOWN 253 
 
 7
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 MAUD ANDERBY stepped out of a taxi into Eastern 
 life again one morning a few days after her eighteenth 
 birthday. She stood among bags, racquets and golf 
 clubs on Fenchurch Street platform, glancing in a 
 friendly way at the sallow folk about her. The girls 
 looked like tea roses. In the boat train was a rather 
 nice old lady; and Maud's finishing school happened 
 to have been one where the possibility of age deserv- 
 ing notice was still carefully inculcated. They con- 
 versed. Both, it seemed, were going to Singapore. 
 
 " It is queer to meet anyone who knows the place," 
 remarked Maud. 
 
 " I'd hardly heard of it myself," confessed the old 
 lady, " until my son got his cadetship and was ordered 
 there. He's in the smoking carriage next to us now. 
 When we get to Tilbury I'll introduce him, and he'll 
 look after your luggage." 
 
 He did more than that. He got her a better cabin, 
 arranged that her place at dinner in the saloon should 
 be at the centre table, took her to see the water tanks 
 at Aden, and managed to make her nearly lose the 
 boat at Colombo. 
 
 They would have lost it altogether had not the 
 captain been a friend of Alec Nixon's and father of 
 a daughter himself. 
 
 9
 
 10 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 Naturally Mrs Nixon was very upset. 
 
 " He's so careless," she apologized. " He'd lose 
 anything." 
 
 " It was a delightful Buddhist temple," said Maud. 
 " I wouldn't have missed it for the world." 
 
 " And the horse went lame at the wrong time," put 
 in Alec. 
 
 " It's a habit some of them have," returned Mrs 
 Nixon, drily. " But I've always made it a rule only 
 to trust once a man who employs such animals. And 
 I should advise every girl to do the same." 
 
 They did not refer to the matter again until Singa- 
 pore came, and they had to say ' good-bye.' 
 
 It was then Alec said, " If we had lost that steamer 
 we should have had another fortnight." 
 
 " I should have liked to have seen more of Ceylon," 
 Maud had replied non-committally. 
 
 After this duly recognized beginning of a friend- 
 ship, it was hardly surprising, on visiting the Temple- 
 ton's bungalow outside Singapore a month later, to 
 find Mr Alec Nixon in possession of the lawn and in 
 the middle of a game of tennis with Mr Templeton's 
 step-daughter, Maud Anderby. 
 
 Yet a visitor ushered out from the bungalow by 
 the Chinese butler paused for an instant in his 
 dignified walk, and gazed at the cadet with raiseH 
 eyebrows. 
 
 " Good evening, M'Whizzle," cried Alec, cheerfully. 
 
 " Good evening," came the reply in a cold voice. 
 
 The visitor made his way with marked deliberation 
 to where Mrs Nixon was seated with her host and 
 hostess, and bowed gravely.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 11 
 
 " You've met Mr M'Whizzle, of course," whispered 
 Mrs Templeton. " Chief of the Secret Police." 
 
 The old lady shoojc her head. 
 
 " I've heard the name," she murmured. 
 
 " Mr Lochinvar M'Whizzle TheJHpnourable^ Mrs 
 Nixon." 
 
 Mr Templeton made the introduction. 
 
 The visitor, a small dark man, painfully thin, bowed 
 again silently, and looked at the tennis court with an 
 air of marked disapproval. There was an uncomfort- 
 able pause. A certain dampness which might or 
 might not have been the aura of a great and important 
 official began to spread. 
 
 " I've often heard my son speak of you," began 
 Mrs Nixon with determination. 
 
 " I am honoured," replied M'Whizzle, with a slight 
 smile. 
 
 "Head of the Secret Police, are you not?" 
 
 " That is so," acknowledged Lochinvar M'Whizzle. 
 He paused for a moment, and then added, with 
 deliberation, " Unfortunately." 
 
 " Ha, ha ! Very good ! " laughed Mr Templeton, 
 going red in the face at his guest's humour. " Don't 
 believe him. He means * unfortunately for the crimi- 
 nals of the country ! ' They are having a bad time 
 under Mr Lochinvar M'Whizzle. I shouldn't like to 
 be one." 
 
 The visitor frowned impatiently at the flattery. 
 
 " Not at all, not at all," he muttered. " Anyone 
 could do as well as I." 
 
 " Oh, could they ! " chuckled Mr Templeton. 
 "Could they indeed!"
 
 12 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 "I suppose you like your job?" inquired the old 
 lady. 
 
 " Well er " Lochinvar M'Whizzle looked at the 
 merchant uncertainly, then smiled. 
 
 " You could hardly describe such a position as the 
 Chief of the Secret Police for all this country as a 
 job," interposed Mrs Templeton, in an annoyed voice. 
 
 " By all means call it a job/' murmured Lochinvar. 
 "Why not, my dear Mrs Templeton, why not?" 
 
 " I certainly will not do so," declared his hostess, 
 her rather wide, fleshy face glowing indignantly. " To 
 be Chief of the Secret Police, with the welfare of the 
 whole community in your keeping, is certainly far 
 higher than a job. It's a a " 
 
 " A trust," suggested Mrs Nixon. 
 
 " Yes," agreed Mrs Templeton, adopting the idea 
 in relief. " That's how I should describe it. A sacred 
 trust." 
 
 " Well, really, when you come to think of it, I 
 suppose it is," admitted M'Whizzle, in a thoughtful 
 voice. " But you make my responsibilities appear 
 greater than ever. I had never thought of it myself 
 in that light." 
 
 " I shouldn't, if I were you," advised Mrs Nixon, 
 acidly. " You'd find yourself in the capacity of a 
 sacred trust a great burden." 
 
 " He never trusts anybody," growled Mr Templeton 
 in her ear as his wife and the visitor walked across 
 the court, where the game had now ended. " He's a 
 most remarkable man, and Singapore is fortunate to 
 have him. He talks six dialects, and knows the habits 
 of every tribe in Asia. The Malays have made him
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 13 
 
 a Dato. They say that once he nearly got accepted 
 as a Buddhist priest, but he was detected just before 
 the ceremony, and would have been knifed but for 
 the lucky circumstance that not one of those present 
 had a knife. A remarkable man!" 
 
 " Unusually thin for a policeman," commented Mrs 
 Nixon, looking over curiously at the trio by the tennis 
 net. 
 
 " He wears himself out/' explained the merchant. 
 " A sword too keen for the scabbard. Takes no 
 pleasure except in his work. We are about the only 
 people he visits, and even we can't rely on him. 
 Sometimes I've kept dinner waiting an hour, and then 
 had a note scribbled hastily in the jungle and brought 
 in by native messenger, saying that he is on the track 
 of a murderer, and would I keep something hot for 
 him? I always do. He's been quieter lately, and 
 comes here more than ever. We're getting to look 
 on him as one of our own." 
 
 " That's very nice," cooed the old lady. " Especially 
 as you haven't a son." 
 
 She leaned back, and in the silence that ensued 
 looked admiringly at the view. 
 
 On the other side of the double tennis lawn the 
 ground shelved. Framed in bamboo and traveller 
 palms lay the distant sea. Its colour in the mellow 
 sunlight was deep turquoise. Behind it rose the 
 dreaming mainland, faintly blue. 
 
 It was pleasant for Mr Lochinvar M'Whizzle, she 
 felt, to be in process of adoption by the owner of such 
 a view. She stiffened slightly, drew her shawl about 
 her, and putting up a lorgnette, looked to see what her
 
 14 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 son was doing. It did not surprise her much to fin'd 
 even the Chief of the Secret Police had not succeeded 
 in frightening off Alec. Chinese 'boys/ laughing 
 good-humouredly, were taking down the net and 
 collecting the tennis balls. Lochinvar M'Whizzle 
 still, in spite of himself, monopolized Mrs Templeton. 
 Even at that distance it was apparent that, like the 
 North Pole with the needle, he was bored at her 
 always pointing his way. Mrs Nixon could perceive 
 him in the act of being frigid. Looking down at her 
 palm-leaf fan, she smiled. 
 
 The butler came and began to set out tea. The 
 youngest couple sauntered across the lawn. 
 
 " I believe your son has grown taller since he has 
 been on leave," remarked Mr Templeton. 
 
 " He feels taller," confessed the old lady, com- 
 placently. " Charge of a district, they say, has that 
 effect." 
 
 " A very important district too ! " 
 
 " Considering," said Mrs Nixon, with a smile, " that 
 it contains you and me." 
 
 " It contains more than that. Half the important 
 people in Singapore live round here. And all my 
 racing stable." 
 
 " He ought to be bowed down with care, really," 
 confessed Mrs Nixon. 
 
 " I've been beaten again," remarked the subject 
 under discussion, coming up. " It's getting altogether 
 too frequent." 
 
 " If you will persist in giving me fifteen," Maud 
 said. 
 
 " It makes the blow less severe," returned Alec.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 15 
 
 He went to the table, where Mrs Templeton had 
 already taken her place, and came back with cups 
 of tea. 
 
 " It's China," called out Mrs Templeton, as 
 M'Whizzle refused his. ..." You might have known," 
 she added, with a reproachful look, " that I would not 
 have given you Indian." 
 
 " But not with milk," said Lochinvar, in a reproving 
 voice. " I never take mine with milk." 
 
 " It does seem like sacrilege," murmured Mrs Nixon. 
 
 " Exactly, I agree," said Lochinvar, with an air of 
 approval. 
 
 " Nevertheless," said Mrs Nixon, giving a demure 
 glance at her son, " milk for me, and two lumps of 
 sugar. Nothing delights me more than breaking 
 Chinese customs." 
 
 " Confucius " began M'Whizzle. 
 
 " Except, perhaps, asking policemen the time." 
 
 " I was about to say," continued M'Whizzle, stiffly, 
 " that Confucius certainly took his tea plain, and that 
 all Chinese have done so for centuries. What is good 
 enough for four hundred million Chinese is good 
 enough for me. Even the slice of lemon that some 
 people affect is a modern innovation introduced by 
 the Russians. In spite of them, I still take mine plain, 
 and shall continue to do so. ... No, thank you: I 
 won't have anything to eat." 
 
 " Not even one of my cakes ? " asked Mrs Temple- 
 ton, reproachfully. " Maud and I made them our- 
 selves. We knew you were coming this afternoon." 
 
 " In that case," Lochinvar M'Whizzle hastened to 
 say, with a deep bow, " my rule shall be broken."
 
 16 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 Selecting a cake with deliberation, he smiled grate- 
 fully at mother and daughter, and took a bite. " Ex- 
 cellent," he pronounced. " Permit me to compliment 
 you. No one could make a better cake, I am sure." 
 
 " Todgers can do it if it tries ! " cried Mrs Temple- 
 ton, triumphantly. 
 
 " Todgers' cakes," said M'Whizzle, with emphasis, 
 " are not nearly so good as these." He gave Maud a 
 flattering bow. 
 
 " I don't think they are, either," agreed Mrs Nixon, 
 in an amused voice. 
 
 The puzzled Mrs Templeton looked from one to the 
 other. 
 
 " I had some of them when I was on leave last," 
 pursued the complimentary M'Whizzle. " They were 
 good, yes, certainly good. But I should say not so 
 good as these." 
 
 " Do you mean the Piccadilly Todgers ? " inquired 
 Alec, solemnly, " or the one by the Elephant and 
 Castle?" 
 
 " The Piccadilly place, of course," replied M'Whizzle 
 stiffly. " Er I don't know the Elephant and Castle. 
 I don't know that part of London." 
 
 " But I was quoting Dickens," gasped Mrs Temple- 
 ton. " I didn't know there was a tea-shop in London 
 named Todgers." 
 
 The Chief of the Secret Police glanced round him 
 suspiciously, but the gravity of the demeanour of both 
 Nixons was reassuring. 
 
 " My dear Mrs Templeton," he began, with an 
 amused smile. ..." Still it is not given to everyone 
 to know their London. Well, if we do ever happen
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 17 
 
 to be in town at the same time, will you do me the 
 honour of taking tea with me at Todgers, and you 
 shall judge for yourself the quality of their confec- 
 tionery." 
 
 Mrs Templeton, still looking slightly stupid, said 
 she would. 
 
 " I hope you include me ? " asked Maud, severely. 
 
 " Dear lady. I protest at any insinuation that I 
 would dream of leaving you out." 
 
 "And me?" cried Mrs Nixon. 
 
 The Chief of the Secret Police bowed coldly. 
 
 "And me?" echoed Alec. 
 
 M'Whizzle's small black eyes flickered. " I hope," 
 he said severely, " that our meeting in London will 
 occur before you go on leave again." 
 
 The entrance of the butler carrying a salver, and 
 followed closely by two dark-complexioned strangers, 
 put an end temporarily to the conversation. Rather 
 to everyone's surprise the card on the salver was for 
 M'Whizzle. 
 
 He picked it up, examined it deliberately, then read 
 aloud : 
 
 A. ARCHIBALD PODD. 
 Borneo. (Please see back). 
 
 The taller of the two strangers, a youth dressed in 
 a light check linen suit, advanced, his tawny face 
 ablaze with excitement. 
 
 " I don't mean ' see my back,' " he explained, waving 
 a thin hand heavy with silver rings. " See the card's 
 back, sir, that is the meaning." 
 B
 
 18 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " Oh/' said M'Whizzle, coldly. He turned the card 
 over. 
 
 " Relative to job of confident clerjk," he read. He 
 looked up, inquiringly. 
 
 The youth nodded. 
 
 "You're the Podd that's been writing?" asked 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle, eyeing him sharply. 
 
 " No other Podd but me been writing, sir," replied 
 the coloured youth. 
 
 "How do you know that?" cross-examined 
 M'Whizzle. 
 
 " I'm the only Podd around these parts. There are 
 no more Podds," answered the stranger. 
 
 " I am really sorry," said M'Whizzle, turning to 
 Mrs Templeton, " that we should be troubled just now 
 over this affair. The fact is, I told my chuprassy," 
 nodding at the other arrival, a white-robed Hindoo, 
 " to let me know at once if anything important came 
 into the office while I was away. I meant to infer 
 messages and so on about a number of cases I am 
 engaged on. Apparently this young Eurasian, Podd, 
 came into the office I have been thinking of engag- 
 ing him as clerk, there has been some correspondence 
 and my chuprassy at once brought him over here. 
 I am all apologies." 
 
 " Don't mention it," said Mrs Templeton. 
 
 " I have to make some such arrangement, or I could 
 never get away from my work at all," explained the 
 Chief of the Secret Police. " And these Indians take 
 every order very literally. Perhaps, now the man is 
 here, I'd better see him and get it over?" 
 
 " Do, by all means," cried Mrs Templeton. " We
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 19 
 
 could go elsewhere, and leave you the lawn if you 
 like." 
 
 " No, no," said M'Whizzle, deprecatingly. " You 
 will not be a bit in the way." He settled himself in 
 his armchair, and, turning, addressed a remark in a 
 strange tongue to the Hindoo. The man shook his 
 head. 
 
 "That's Telegu he's speaking," whispered Mr 
 Templeton to Mrs Nixon in an admiring voice. " I've 
 heard the natives often in India, but I don't know a 
 word." 
 
 " Remarkable," whispered Mrs Nixon. 
 
 M'Whizzle spoke again, and again received a mono- 
 syllabic reply. " It is just as I thought," he said in 
 English, " the boat arrived from Borneo this morning, 
 and the man lost no time in presenting himself. An 
 evidence of energy in a climate like this; don't you 
 think so, Mr Templeton?" 
 
 The merchant nodded. 
 
 " I am not presenting myself," explained the dark- 
 complexioned young man, who had been listening to 
 the conversation intently. " I am hiring myself out, 
 sir." 
 
 He had come all the way from Labuan after this 
 desirable berth, and he was anxious there should be 
 no misunderstanding. 
 
 " Certainly," said M'Whizzle. " That's understood. 
 . . . You speak Dyak?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, I have never had difficulty to do so." 
 
 " Then stand where you are and answer me this 
 question," directed M'Whizzle. He sat stiffly in his 
 armchair, his large bumpy forehead painfully corru-
 
 20 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 gated. " Huk ga ma li /a go honk? " he said at last, 
 jerkily. 
 
 " Lai bag I " answered the other at once, smiling. 
 
 " Isn't he wonderful ? " whispered Mrs Templeton. 
 "That's the Borneo aborigines' language. He seems 
 quite fluent." 
 
 The old lady, impressed in spite of herself, nodded. 
 
 " How you manage to learn all those dialects I can't 
 think," said Mrs Templeton in a despairing voice. 
 " Even simple Malay is too much for me." 
 
 " It's just knack, and a little application," replied 
 M'Whizzle, smiling. " After the first half-dozen of 
 these Eastern languages the rest come easy. Dyak 
 is a little more difficult and less known than the rest,' 
 I admit. That's why I want my confidential clerk 
 to speak it. It will enable me to give him my orders 
 with a fair chance of secrecy. This man speaks well. 
 His Dyak accent is better than the average." 
 
 " I have studied the language in the Lawas River," 
 explained the candidate for the clerkship, smiling with 
 pleasure. 
 
 " I thought so," said M'Whizzle, looking 
 triumphant. " You noticed the manner in which he 
 pronounced the word li. A Rejang Dyak would have 
 said ' lee.' " 
 
 " So would a Scotch Dyak," said Mrs Nixon, 
 solemnly. 
 
 " Got born in the Lawas River, sir," began the dark- 
 faced youth, giving a few particulars about himself. 
 " Got into the habit of speaking Dyak there, it being 
 the only language I knew at the time. Afterwards 
 emigrated to Labuan, and picked up what was con-
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 21 
 
 sidered among ordinary inhabitants my native 
 language as a British subject, but what a missionary 
 told me was swearing or nautical British tongue. 
 Discarded nautical British and entered as a student 
 of classy English under this missionary, who, after a 
 short period of my society, pronounced me as a most 
 promising chap. I owe a lot to that missionary, sir." 
 
 " I'm glad you're grateful," commented M'Whizzle, 
 impatiently. 
 
 " Nobody else on the island wouldn't lent me any- 
 thing," explained the candidate. 
 
 "Urn!" muttered M'Whizzle. "You're in debt, 
 then?" 
 
 " Nothing to speak of, sir, not down here in Singa- 
 pore," the other reassured him. " Up in Labuan they 
 all speak of it. I used to get disgusted sometimes 
 at these peoples. Jealous of me because I'd borrowed 
 ten dollars from this missionary, being a promising 
 fellow, and they couldn't. They are envious peoples 
 in Labuan, sir." 
 
 "They seem to be," answered M'Whizzle, coldly. 
 
 " The best way to pay them back for their envy, 
 sir," suggested Podd, " would be to startle them by 
 paying me a fat salary every week. They would grind 
 their teeth when they heard about that, sir." 
 
 " I don't know that you are going to get any salary," 
 said M'Whizzle, teasingly, smiling at Mr Templeton. 
 "We'll see how you behave. You may not suit me. 
 You are a British subject?" 
 
 " As far as can be at present ascertained," replied 
 the youth in an important voice. " I was at the age 
 of three found at the Lawas River by the missionaries,
 
 22 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 but before that time nobody has been able to find 
 out much regarding me. I am what we call a moot 
 point." 
 
 "You're nut a Dyak?" 
 
 " I bear the good old English name of Podd, sir," 
 returned the other with dignity. 
 
 " But you might have stolen that," pointed out the 
 merciless M'Whizzle. 
 
 " No, sir, I don't steal," returned Podd, contemptu- 
 ously. " Not names. When I was nine years old I 
 was 'dopted by a child of nine years of age in Eng- 
 land, who presented me all his spare clothes. The 
 name A. Archibald Podd was on the clothes, sir, so 
 the missionaries gave me that name, being short of 
 marking ink." * 
 
 "What does 'A' stand for?" inquired M'Whizzle, 
 suspiciously. 
 
 The candidate hesitated. His small canvas-shod 
 feet beat the gravel uncomfortably. " They didn't 
 know what the first name was," he muttered in a 
 shamefaced way. " They tell me also that one of 
 these missionaries was a bad-joking fellow, sir ! " 
 
 His eye rolled uneasily round the circle. 
 
 " If I could find the missionary that gave me that 
 name when I was a helpless infant and couldn't 
 object," he remarked in low, injured tones, " I'd teach 
 him to call anyone Ahasuerus. Making a fellow like 
 me put up with continuous insult all my life. Is that 
 a Christian action, sir? No, sir, it is not." 
 
 " It's a good old Bible name," remarked Mrs Nixon, 
 soothingly. 
 
 " Admitted, Madam, admitted," agreed Podd, bow-
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 23 
 
 ing. " But it is not a job-getting name, or a name, 
 I find, that the ladies take to." 
 
 " There's no need to tell them," said Mrs Nixon, 
 laughing. 
 
 " It's a nasty thing to have to conceal, a name like 
 Ahasuerus, Missis," explained Podd, indignantly. " I 
 myself don't like spending my time hiding a name 
 like that." 
 
 " Don't worry about such a little thing, my good 
 fellow," M'Whizzle advised him. " Now, you'd better 
 go straight back and wait for me down at my office. 
 I think I shall be able to find you employment. 
 Nabarally will show you the way." 
 
 He spoke again in Telegu to his chuprassy, and 
 the two men left. 
 
 " An extraordinary person," said M'Whizzle, laugh- 
 ing, when they had disappeared. " But we need 
 extraordinary men in our service. I think he will suit." 
 
 " I rather liked him," Maud remarked. ..." Now 
 shall we play clock golf? " 
 
 " I'm willing," said Nixon. 
 
 "And you?" 
 
 " My dear Miss Anderby," returned Lochinvar, " I 
 never play European games, you know." 
 
 " I'd forgotten for the moment. Then we'll go and 
 look round the stables. You've never seen them, Mrs 
 Nixon." 
 
 " I should like to," said the old lady, getting up. 
 
 The whole party left the lawn.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE stables lay at the back of the bungalow, facing 
 the town and overlooking the main road. They were 
 in the opposite direction to M'Whizzle's house, but, 
 as Archibald Podd pointed out to the chuprassy, it 
 was possible to visit them on the way thither. As an 
 enthusiast, he could not dream of missing such an 
 opportunity. 
 
 " If the Tuan M'Whizzle finds we have not gone 
 straight," said the chuprassy in good English, " he 
 will not be pleased " 
 
 Podd waved his hand carelessly. 
 
 " I'm taking great interest in the Singapore Derby," 
 he explained. " This morning I was reading a paper 
 and I see there was such a race, and since that time 
 I have taken great interest in it. This Mr Templeton 
 owns the favourite, I perceived." 
 
 " A fine horse, sir," said the chuprassy in a respect- 
 ful voice. They turned towards the stables. 
 
 " I'll tell you what I think after I have looked it 
 over," returned Podd, in the tone of a superior. " I 
 suppose they don't jkeep dogs inside here?" he in- 
 quired, pausing reflectively, his hand on the latch. 
 
 Receiving an assurance, he flung the gate of the 
 stable yard open, and, with a slight addition to his 
 customary swagger, marched in. 
 
 24
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 25 
 
 The approach of the party had been noticed from 
 the head-groom's bungalow. The white head-groom, 
 warned of the advent of something that looked in the 
 distance like a European, had gulped down his tea, 
 and was now at his post. 
 
 " It is the Tuan Ryan," muttered the flustered chup- 
 rassy, as Archibald Podd paused on the threshold and 
 gazed inquiringly at the small watchful figure in a 
 khaki suit and gaiters that stood eyeing them. 
 
 "What do you want?" inquired the groom. 
 
 " You are Mr Broyan, they tell me," returned Podd, 
 advancing warily. He felt that this was almost worse 
 than a dog. " You have the advantage of me, as you 
 stand on your own dunghill. I merely look in and see 
 you doing it." 
 
 " Now you have done, suppose you go," said the 
 head-groom. 
 
 " It is a pleasant picture, worth coming from far- 
 away Borneo to observe, sir," said Podd, flatteringly. 
 " I never see such stables," he added, casting a slow 
 admiring glance round the square of roughly-timbered 
 stalls thatched with attap. " The sight of them, sir, 
 makes me almost wish I was a horse, sir." 
 
 " They are the finest in Singapore," said the chup- 
 rassy in a low voice. 
 
 " Hey !" called out Ryan, "You're Tuan M'Whizzle's 
 man, ain't you? Who is this chap?" 
 
 " Permit me, mister," said Podd, taking off his topee 
 with a flourish. " You are Mr Bryan of Singapore, 
 a name well known and honoured by all we racing 
 men. I am young Mr Podd of Borneo." 
 
 "Never heard the name," said the groom, bluntly.
 
 26 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " Millions of people are like you, sir," Podd assured 
 him in a comforting voice. " We cannot all of us be 
 household words. I am, of course, more of a garden- 
 ing word. But my object now is not to be known to 
 millions, but to only a few select friends. I have had 
 my cards printed with my name on. An excellent 
 step, don't you think, for my friends to be reminded 
 of me. Here is it." 
 
 He extracted one after much fumbling in a large 
 pocket-book covered with shiny cloth. 
 
 " A. Archibald Podd," the groom read. " What does 
 the 'A' stand for?" 
 
 " It's the first letter of the alphabet that I learnt," 
 said Podd evasively. " Up in Labuan school they 
 always begin to teach the alphabet from that end, 
 working away gradually till we get down to Z, by 
 which time, I can tell you, mister, we are in a fine 
 perspiration. But we must not complain, for a clerk 
 without a knowledge of the alphabet is in a box, I can 
 tell you. In fact, he soon dies out. He is not likely 
 to be competed for by employers, like me. Mr Lochin- 
 var M'Whizzle wouldn't want such a fellow for his 
 confident clerk. Not while I was in the neighbour- 
 hood." 
 
 " Are you going to work for Tuan M'Whizzle ? " 
 asked Ryan, displaying fresh interest. 
 
 " He hasn't said anything about working," explained 
 Podd, brightly. " But I suppose that will be included 
 in my duties. I am entering service as his confident 
 clerk." 
 
 " You mean confidential clerk," corrected Ryan, 
 with a laugh. " Now I understand." He held out
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 27 
 
 his hand. " Glad to meet you, Podd. We shall be 
 neighbours." 
 
 " Next-door neighbours, if possible, I hope," said 
 A. Archibald Podd, with an agreeable smile. It was 
 plain that this European sportsman was impressed 
 by his being in the service of the police. Not that 
 he was in that service yet quite. But the distinction 
 seemed hardly worth calling attention to. 
 
 " I hope, sir, I shall not have the pleasure of calling 
 on you in my professional capacity," he said, bowing. 
 
 " One never can tell," returned Mr Ryan. " There 
 are some rum uns in the racing business. And when 
 there's a big race on it pays to keep friends with the 
 policemen. Like to have a look round? " 
 
 " Immensely, sir." 
 
 " Got any horses up in Labuan?" 
 
 " One or two," returned Archibald, discreetly. 
 
 The little groom led him quickly up to a stable and 
 flung open the door. 
 
 " You've nothing like that, I'm certain," he said, 
 with a ring of pride. 
 
 Archibald looked in, and made out in the semi- 
 darkness the hindquarters of the animal. 
 
 " It's a yellow one," he muttered in a low voice. 
 " In Borneo I've never seen such a colour." 
 
 "That's Old Joke, the favourite for the Derby," 
 said Ryan. " Called Old Joke because he's a chestnut." 
 
 " A wonderful horse," agreed Archibald. " Such a 
 beautiful colour." 
 
 " I don't know so much about the colour," com- 
 mented the groom. " But on his present form he's 
 a cert for the race."
 
 28 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " A wonderful form," agreed Podd, looking again. 
 " At present I can only see the back of it, but it is 
 certainly wonderful. I suppose you couldn't make it 
 turn round? I should like to see its face." 
 
 The head groom stared, then smiled compassion- 
 ately as he unhooked the lower half of the door. 
 
 " Come inside," he said. 
 
 "It won't bite, I s'pose, mister?" inquired Podd, 
 entering gingerly. " Up in Borneo they have a horse 
 that bites dreadfully. A personal friend of mine, 
 offering a banana, had his finger taken. And yet 
 we're told to be kind to dumb animals ! " 
 
 " Get over," said the groom. The hoofs of the 
 animal rattled alarmingly as it obeyed the instruction. 
 Archibald followed his guide cautiously, and stood 
 beside the manger. 
 
 " Pretty thing," he said, coaxingly, stroking the 
 glossy neck. " Quiet, quiet, diam. It's very restless, 
 isn't it?" 
 
 " The quietest horse I know," said Ryan. 
 
 " I like its face," commented Podd, becoming re- 
 assured. " A trustworthy face. And fine strong legs. 
 I'm glad to be able to cast an eye over it, and fin' out 
 something about its form. . . . This is the horse for 
 my money. . . . Gee up, old fellar ! " 
 
 He smacked the animal's flank with an affectation 
 of ease, and, escaping a responsive kick by inches, 
 fled to the farthest corner of the stable. 
 
 " It's only his playfulness," explained Ryan. " He 
 wouldn't hurt a fly, really." 
 
 " I like its face end better," gasped Podd, recovering 
 himself. " It is a more trustworthy end."
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 29 
 
 "Watch his ears," directed Ryan, easily. "They 
 always go back when he's going to let out in earnest. 
 .. . Hello!" 
 
 Archibald Podd, who had been creeping gingerly 
 towards the door, took the last two yards at the 
 double, and flattened himself against the wall. 
 
 "That was only a fly on one ear," remarked the 
 groom, reassuringly. " Soho ! old fellow. . . . There's 
 no need to be alarmed, Mr Podd." 
 
 " I'm not alarmed," explained Archibald, in a jerky 
 voice. " But I'm cautious by nature. You don't find 
 me playing about much with animal's hind legs." 
 
 " If you've seen enough, we will go," said Ryan. 
 He glanced out into the yard, and at once turned and 
 looked at Podd with an expression of some consterna- 
 tion on his face. 
 
 " You've done it now," he whispered, in an alarmed 
 voice. " Here's Mr Templeton and Mr M'Whizzle 
 and a whole party of them coming into the yard, and 
 I've had strict instructions that on no account was 
 I to let anyone into the favourite's stable. You'll 
 have to hide." 
 
 "Mr M'Whizzle!" gasped Archibald. "He told 
 me to proceed directly to his house and wait." 
 
 " 'Ere," whispered the groom. " Slip up that ladder 
 into the hay loft. Shut the trap-door behind you. 
 Nobody ever goes up there." 
 
 He stood for an instant anxiously watching his 
 instructions carried out, and then sallied into the 
 yard. 
 
 The party from the bungalow had been delayed 
 some time in the kitchen garden while Lochinvar
 
 30 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 M'Whizzle had explaine'd in the presence of a banana 
 plant the uses bananas had been put to at various 
 times by celebrated Chinese criminals. Mrs Nixon 
 was now yawning openly, but in spite of that fact the 
 enthusiasm of the Chief of the Secret Police appeared 
 unabated. He was a man who took a real interest in 
 his work, and what is less rare, a man who imagined 
 others also did so. 
 
 " Horses, of course, figure in the annals of crime 
 more often than bananas, I need not tell you, Miss 
 Anderby," he began, on entering the yard. 
 
 " You're very interesting, I'm sure," said Mrs 
 Templeton, encouragingly. " Do go on, Mr 
 M'Whizzle." 
 
 " A little more interesting than a banana," muttered 
 Nixon. 
 
 " I wonder how you'd take the- finger prints of a 
 banana," Maud asked, flippantly. 
 
 " Ask him : he knows," said Nixon, sotto voce. 
 
 " I suppose, inquired Maud, loudly, " the finger- 
 prints of a horse cannot be taken?" 
 
 " Don't be absurd," ejaculated Mrs Templeton. 
 
 " As it happens, Miss Anderby's question is not 
 absurd," interposed Lochinar M'Whizzle. " Not at 
 all. The hoof of the horse is really the nail of a 
 finger. The animal walks on its toe nail. A hoof- 
 print varies for every horse. In my records I have 
 photographs of typical hoof-prints of the Clydesdale, 
 shire horse, racehorse, hackney, cab-horse, pony. 
 Their divergence is astonishing. And then the nailing 
 of the shoes. Sometimes a nail missing, sometimes 
 a nail bent! No, I flatter myself that there are few
 
 31 
 
 horses that can conceal their goings and comings 
 from the experts of the secret police. Good afternoon, 
 Ryan." 
 
 " Good afternoon, Mr M'Whizzle," said the groom. 
 He had looked around and found to his relief that the 
 Chief of the Secret Police's chuprassy had cleared off 
 on the approach of the party. 
 
 " Can we see Old Joke, Mr Ryan? " asked Maud. 
 
 " Certainly, Miss," replied the head groom. 
 
 Maud disappeared into the stable, followed by 
 Nixon. 
 
 " How is it ? " asked Mr Templeton, nodding his 
 head towards the door. 
 
 " Couldn't be better, sir," replied the groom in a 
 satisfied voice. " Ahmat had 'im out this morning. 
 Took him along hard for two furlongs. Came back 
 a fair treat. 'E's a dead cert for the race. Take my 
 word for it." 
 
 " There's a chance for you, M'Whizzle, to make a 
 little," said Mr Templeton, banteringly. 
 
 " How can that be done ? " 
 
 " Put fifty dollars on Old Joke for the Derby. Ryan 
 says he's bound to win." 
 
 " It wouldn't do for a man in my position to bet," 
 said the Chief of the Secret Police positively. 
 
 " Why don't you, then, Mrs Nixon ? " asked the 
 merchant. " You can't lose." 
 
 " I wouldn't say ' can't lose,' sir," said Ryan, 
 cautiously. " Everyone in Singapore doesn't think as 
 we do. The Rajah of Tidatau has two certain runners. 
 They say he's put his shirt on one of them. If he 
 loses he's done for."
 
 32 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " Why done for? " asked Mrs Nixon. " What is the 
 good of a shirt in this hot climate ? " 
 
 " He stands to lose fifty thousand dollars," said 
 Ryan in a solemn voice. " And if he does lose, the 
 money lenders and chitties are going to take him 
 to court and bankrupt him. That's how the talk goes 
 down-town." 
 
 "Have you heard anything about that?" Mrs 
 Templeton asked M'Whizzle. 
 
 " Hum," said Lochinvar, non-committally. 
 
 " He's being silent in six languages," cried the 
 merchant in delight. " Now, my dear, what a question ! 
 Does the Chief of the Secret Police know about the 
 doings in Singapore of the Rajah of Tidatau? Ask 
 rather what doesn't he know. He's probably got men 
 watching the fellow all the time. But to ask such 
 a question ! Surely you know how discreet Mr Loch- 
 invar M'Whizzle is by this time?" 
 
 " Yes, it was stupid of me," murmured Mrs Temple- 
 ton, abashed. 
 
 " We policemen have our secrets," said M'Whizzle, 
 with an amused smile at her confusion. " But I'm 
 betraying nothing when I say among intimates that 
 there is a certain amount of truth in what our worthy 
 host hints at. We have our eye on the scion of 
 Tidatau, yes, very much so." 
 
 " I thought as much," said the merchant, gravely. 
 
 " Would it surprise you, Mrs Templeton," continued 
 M'Whizzle in a quiet voice, " if I said I could tell you 
 the name of the girl he danced twice with at the 
 Tingle Tangle dance-house last night?" 
 
 " Don't mention such a place," implored the lady.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 33 
 
 " Or what he had for supper afterwards, and where 
 he went to next to play poker, and who helped him 
 home to bed?" 
 
 " Really," remarked Mrs Templeton, " this is too 
 much. We might as well be in Russia." 
 
 " The innocent have nothing to fear," M'Whizzle 
 assured her. 
 
 " And most of the guilty are policemen themselves, 
 so they say," suggested Mrs Nixon, spitefully. " How- 
 ever, where is this wonderful horse? I think I shall 
 put a little on him." 
 
 The groom flung open the top door of the stable, 
 which had closed slightly in spite of the lack of breeze. 
 The hands of Nixon and Maud Anderby, surprised in 
 the act of trying to pat the same spot on the favour- 
 ite's neck, strayed off in different directions. 
 
 " A noble-looking animal," commented M'Whizzle, 
 with an angry stare. 
 
 " And very quiet, sir," said Ryan. 
 
 " It seems to me that it will stand anything," said 
 M'Whizzle, angrily. 
 
 " Come in, Mr M'Whizzle, and try," suggested 
 Maud, brightly. 
 
 M'Whizzle declined. He remarked, with a slight 
 sneer, that there didn't seem room for him. 
 
 "Oh, we'll clear out," offered Nixon. 
 
 " I think you're wise not to come in, Mr M'Whizzle," 
 said Maud. " Unless, of course, you're anxious to 
 carry away on you a specimen of its finger-print. He 
 has a way, sometimes, of kicking out at strangers, 
 haven't you, Old Joke?" 
 
 Mr Templeton motioned Ryan after him as the 
 c
 
 34 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 party left the yard, and kept him in conversation for 
 some minutes, walking slowly towards the bungalow. 
 The groom came back as quickly as possible, and 
 at once went to the hay-loft to advise Podd that the 
 danger had passed. To his slight astonishment, he 
 found the hay-loft empty. Evidently his new friend 
 had taken the very first opportunity to escape.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 MOST of the Singapore well-to-do live in the suburb 
 of Tanglin. Usually the Chief of the Secret Police 
 for the time being lies there also, glad to be quit of 
 his job after office hours. Lochinvar M'Whizzle, no 
 ordinary C.S.P., was peculiar in that he refused to 
 occupy the comfortable bungalow in Tanglin provided 
 by the Government, and chose to live in a large house 
 right in the middle of the Kampong Glam. 
 
 It was a house, not a bungalow. Bungalows are 
 guileless edifices hiding nothing from the passer-by, 
 and certainly not in such keeping with the sinister 
 M'Whizzle as the residence he had chosen. It was 
 assuredly not guileless. Its dirty, yellow-green 
 shutters alone were sufficient to inspire a cold shiver 
 in the spine of the European who glanced at them. 
 Upon the callow native they exercised an influence 
 akin to that of the evil eye. They were always closed, 
 but one felt they were always watchful. No one 
 passed them unobserved or exempt from the malign 
 influence they exhaled. In short, the gaunt, silent, 
 three-storey house acted as a wet blanket on the 
 whole neighbourhood, and had it been struck by 
 lightning during one of the violent thunderstorms 
 which raged constantly over the town, the disaster 
 would have been welcomed by the whole native 
 
 35
 
 36 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 population as a good day's work on the part of th'e 
 evil spirits infesting the upper air. 
 
 The front of the house faced a thoroughfare ren- 
 dered respectable by tramway lines and trams, but 
 the back gave on the worst slum in Singapore, a slum 
 where dwelt, closely packed as sardines, Japanese, 
 Klings, Chinese, Javanese, Bengalis and Arabs, to- 
 gether with a fair sprinkling of beings so low in the 
 scale of humanity that no nationality would be found 
 to own them. Rents had gone down considerably 
 in this slum since the Chief of the Secret Police had 
 taken up residence in the neighbourhood, but the 
 news gradually filtering through that M'Whizzle, a 
 being apart, had come to live among them because 
 he liked their wickedness, and the frequent sight of 
 him as he haunted the bazaars in native dress, had 
 allayed suspicion. 
 
 But when he was seen coming along at a snail's 
 pace about 6 p.m. on the day of his visit to the 
 Templeton's, accompanied by five Europeans of sus- 
 picious cleanliness, indignation spread through the 
 slum like a prairie fire, and several of the inhabitants 
 gave notice to their landlord at once. 
 
 One old Chinese barber, who had rented the corner 
 of the street for many years, even talked loudly about 
 an action for damages. He alleged that the entire 
 party had stopped and watched him at work; on a 
 client, and that the nervousness engendered thereby 
 had caused the hand holding his instrument to tremble 
 and puncture the said client's ear-drum. 
 
 Altogether there was in truth some danger of a riot, 
 and the fat Chinese landlord felt relieved when, peep-
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 37 
 
 ing through his bamboo blind in a quiver, he beheld 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle, after exhibiting to his guests 
 the contents of the shop of a dealer in charms, and 
 the tattooing on a baby's stomach, lift the latch of 
 the back door and lead the way into his sinister abode. 
 
 " You have now some faint idea, all of you," said 
 M'Whizzle, pausing in the backyard after shutting 
 and bolting the door, " of the mysterious and complex 
 life which has gone on unchanged in the East for 
 thousands of years, and still continues under our very 
 noses." 
 
 " The air down here is very trying," said Mrs Nixon, 
 in her best manner. 
 
 " It is the smell of the bazaar," explained Lochinvar 
 M'Whizzle, enthusiastically. " Compact of incense 
 and spices, dried fish, tripang, goats, sago, men and 
 the crowded harems. It gets into one's blood." 
 
 " It is certainly getting into mine," said Mrs Temple- 
 ton, producing a scent bottle. 
 
 " It gets into one's blood," repeated Lochinvar 
 M'Whizzle, frowning slightly, " and fascination en- 
 sues. Perhaps I am differently constituted to the 
 usual European," he continued, his small black eyes 
 glowing, " but to me the mere sniff of the bazaar 
 brings rapture. I feel my pulses beating as I remem- 
 ber that Aroun al Asched in Bagdad many thousands 
 of years ago sniffed the same aged indestructible air, 
 and that out of his intoxication was born that 
 wonderful series of romances, the Thousand and One 
 Nights. Sometimes the charm becomes irresistible. 
 Then when the hot night closes and the dim moon 
 whitens the city, I leave my desk and, donning native
 
 38 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 garb, sally from that door to live again the life of 
 the oriental adventurer." 
 
 "Out of that door?" asked Mrs Nixon, pointing. 
 
 " Yes," answered Lochinvar, gravely. " Out of that 
 door." 
 
 " It's a nice door," commented Mrs Nixon. " One 
 of the nicest doors I have seen since I left England. 
 I like your taste in green paint, Mr M'Whizzle. A 
 nice little back yard, too," she added, looking round. 
 
 " We will now leave the courtyard," said M'Whizzle 
 with emphasis, " and go into the house." 
 
 He led the way into the pitch darkness of a narrow 
 passage. 
 
 " It's very romantic," murmured Mrs Templeton, 
 "and isn't he interesting? He has walked us right 
 into the middle ages." 
 
 There was a slight splash ahead. 
 
 " Look out for the puddle," cried M'Whizzle in a 
 whisper. "Keep close to the wall. Who was that?" 
 
 " I am afraid it was me," remarked Mr Templeton 
 in a testy voice. " You ought to have a light here. 
 Do you mind my striking a match ?" 
 
 " Do, by all means," said M'Whizzle, regretfully. 
 " But a light will destroy the charm." 
 
 It did. The puddle in particular looked most ob- 
 jectionable. But in spite of that the party insisted 
 on Mr Templeton striking another match, and yet 
 another, while they negotiated it. Swinging aside an 
 awkwardly fixed bamboo curtain, they then entered 
 the house. 
 
 It was a badly-lighted house, that much was plain 
 at first impression. They stood bunched in the middle
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 39 
 
 of a large room. The glimmer of a tiny lamp on the 
 floor showed a patch of bamboo matting. The rest 
 was darkness. 
 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle clapped his hands. "This 
 is an ante-chamber," he said in a low voice. " A 
 servant will come with a lamp to pilot us into the 
 lounge." 
 
 He clapped his hands again. 
 
 " I've read about that way of calling servants," 
 said Mrs Templeton, in an excited whisper, "but I 
 never imagined anything so delightfully oriental really 
 existed." 
 
 " I should prefer an electric bell myself," returned 
 Mrs Nixon, drily. 
 
 " You are so very practical," retorted Mrs Temple- 
 ton. 
 
 In the ensuing silence M'Whizzle clapped his hands 
 loudly again. 
 
 " That ought to do something," muttered Nixon to 
 Maud. " The third time's lucky." 
 
 " Shall I light another match," suggested Mr 
 Templeton, anxious to help. 
 
 " On no account," replied M'Whizzle, in an irritated 
 whisper. " I don't know what's happened. I'll go 
 myself." 
 
 He disappeared, and from the near darkness came 
 the sound of a voice talking angrily in familiar pidgeon 
 Malay. 
 
 " That's the language they all understand and obey," 
 whispered Nixon, as a Chinese ' boy ' came sulkily 
 forward, carrying an ordinary paraffin lamp. 
 
 " The lounge," said M'Whizzle triumphantly, when
 
 40 
 
 the party, having followed the lamp through a passage 
 or two, were again assembled. " The middle of the 
 floor is laid for our evening meal, as I instructed. 
 Please avoid treading on the bread." 
 
 He left the room, and the party walked carefully 
 round, respectfully examining the decorations. The 
 walls were hung with crude black and white brush- 
 work panels depicting dragons and Chinese warriors 
 in mortal combat while slit-eyed maidens sauntered 
 about calmly gathering flowers and storks sat on small 
 gnarled trees in nests of ample proportions. Low 
 cushions were scattered about the room. These a 
 pair of servants, richly attired in pale-blue silk, enter- 
 ing noiselessly, arranged about the middle of the floor. 
 
 Lochinar M'Whizzle re-appeared, smirking self- 
 consciously at Maud. He had changed his European 
 suit for the flowing robe of a Chinese mandarin. 
 
 " Our meal is to be Chinese," he announced, beam- 
 ing round. 
 
 " Oh," groaned Mrs Nixon in Maud's ear. 
 
 " I had intended to give you a Cingalese repast," 
 M'Whizzle continued, " but I received a parcel of 
 bird's nests the nest of the esculent swallow from 
 an old mandarin friend in Canton this morning, and 
 I thought we'd have them while they were fresh. 
 I have another Chinese robe, Miss Anderby, suitable 
 for a lady of the high nobility. I should be honoured 
 if you would wear it." 
 
 Ignoring Mrs Nixon's whispered warning, Maud 
 enthusiastically said it would be lovely. 
 
 " The robe belonged to an empress of the eighteenth 
 century," said M'Whizzle. " It was the last one she
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 41 
 
 wore. She died, poor woman, quite young of small- 
 pox." 
 
 " Now, Maud, remember your manners ! Eldest 
 first ! " cried Mrs Nixon. " Give your elders the first 
 chance." 
 
 " I don't think anyone ought to wear it," said the 
 merchant. " Not after smallpox." 
 
 " My dear sir, it's quite harmless," protested 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle, smiling. " If it had not been, 
 I should have been dead long ago. I use it in cold 
 weather as a bed-quilt." 
 
 " All the same, it ought not to be worn after small- 
 pox," decided the merchant. 
 
 " Giving it to Maud might cause jealousy, which, 
 as you know, Mr M'Whizzle, is almost as catching," 
 remarked Mrs Nixon. 
 
 "Very well," said M'Whizzle, looking at Maud 
 with a disappointed air, " I should have liked you to 
 wear it." 
 
 " So should I." 
 
 " I'll have it thoroughly disinfected and sent to 
 you," said Lochinvar, eagerly. " You would look well 
 in it. Sometimes I've caught you looking quite like a 
 Chinese." 
 
 " Thank you," Maud said, simply. 
 
 There really did not seem much more to say, but 
 he evidently meant well, so she seated herself 
 on the cushion next to him, and awaited the bird's- 
 nest soup. She had never been a hostess herself, but 
 from experience of how her mother worried over an 
 ordinary European dinner-party she could imagine 
 her host's anxiety. But whatever his inward feelings,
 
 42 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 outwardly he looked unperturbed. The smile on his 
 small face grew irritating in its complacency. She 
 had never liked him much, and now she caught her- 
 self hoping that the bird's-nest soup would come up 
 smoked. She longed to see that smile come off. But 
 it did not come off. Not even after the soup was 
 served and the smile of every other diner had died 
 away. 
 
 The soup was awful, there was no other name for 
 it. Still he smiled on. She gave him credit for being 
 at any rate a brave man. 
 
 They brought the soup in cracked china bowls. It 
 was thin, tasteless, sticky, and of a dirty white colour. 
 It was tepid. 
 
 From under her eyelids she watched him absorb 
 spoonful after spoonful. His smile grew positively 
 beatific. In horror and amazement, she began to 
 realize that he actually liked the stuff. 
 
 " I've heard a great deal about bird's-nest soup," 
 remarked Mr Templeton, putting down his spoon. 
 " This seems to me like flour and water with a touch 
 of gum." 
 
 " I know it's bird's nest," said Mrs Nixon. 
 
 " How do you? " asked her son. 
 
 " I've just got a mouthful of feathers," replied the 
 old lady in a disgusted voice. 
 
 " Ah," M'Whizzle explained. " You've come across a 
 last year's nest. Some of them do get feathery, and 
 the servants are too lazy or too ignorant to clean 
 them properly. A Chinese gourmand does not mind 
 a feather or two, provided the taste of the nest is to 
 his satisfaction."
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 43 
 
 "And are these?" demanded the merchant. "I 
 couldn't taste anything. Most insipid, I thought, if 
 you'll excuse me saying so." 
 
 " The average Western palate," said M'Whizzle, 
 " coarsened by the use of spirits and tobacco need- 
 less to say, I am not referring to you, Mr Temple- 
 ton " 
 
 " I quite understand that," said the merchant 
 shortly. 
 
 " Coarsened by the use of spirits and tobacco," 
 went on his host, " and the too free use of meat and 
 condiments, is unable to appreciate the delicate 
 flavours that appeal to the Eastern gourmet. You 
 will be surprised to know that the birds' nests we 
 are having are the finest flavoured I have tasted this 
 year." 
 
 " I shall have to try again," said Nixon, picking up 
 his spoon. 
 
 He tasted, grimaced. Lochinvar M'Whizzle laughed 
 heartily. 
 
 " Why," he said, " they're Kinabatangan nests, 
 worth their weight in gold in Canton. Dozens of 
 lives are lost every year in climbing up the slippery 
 sides of the caves to get such nests. They are enor- 
 mous caves, those up the Kinabatangan. The swifts 
 whose nests these are they are made, as you know, 
 from the saliva of the bird " 
 
 " I didn't know anything of the sort," said Mr 
 Templeton, who, encouraged by the worth of the 
 nests, had taken up his spoon again. 
 
 " The swifts inhabit the caves at night, and enor- 
 mous bats by day. The floors of the caves arc
 
 44 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 crowded with coffins of generations of Borneo 
 aborigines " 
 
 Mr Templeton put down his spoon with an air of 
 decision. 
 
 " I think we might have on the fish, if you'll allow 
 me to make the suggestion, M'Whizzle," he said in 
 an irritated voice. 
 
 M'Whizzle clapped his hands. 
 
 " My guests are always masters of my household," 
 he murmured, making an obeisance with the dignity 
 of an Asiatic potentate. " The mention of Borneo 
 reminds me of that man Podd. I told him to wait 
 for me. He must have been waiting hours." 
 
 " Waiting since you sent him here this afternoon? " 
 Maud exclaimed, indignantly. " That's too slack of 
 you!" 
 
 "He won't mind waiting," commented Mr Templeton. 
 
 " An Asiatic characteristic," M'Whizzle told her, 
 laughing. " To sit still and wait is no hardship to 
 the oriental. But, nevertheless, I think I'll send for 
 him. I have your permission?" 
 
 He looked round and, receiving mute assent, 
 clapped his hands again. 
 
 " If you can't come quicker when I give you the 
 signal," he said, when the ' boy ' tardily appeared, 
 " I shall have to give you a month's notice." 
 
 The Chinaman regarded him impassively. 
 
 " When the Tuan smacks his hands," he replied, 
 "we in the kitchen are uncertain whether he is in 
 the act of killing a mosquito or is in need of assist- 
 ance. If the Tuan would, instead, shout ' Hai, boy, 
 dash you, come here/ as he does in the absence of
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 45 
 
 guests, we should know for certain that the presence 
 of one of us was required." 
 
 M'Whizzle looked round uneasily. 
 
 " Take that soup away," he remarked in icy tones, 
 " and bring on the shark's fin hash. And, ' boy ' " 
 
 "Tuan!" 
 
 " In the quarter of the domestics there reposes one, 
 Podd, who has come from Borneo to enter my ser- 
 vice. Bid him resort hither." 
 
 "Tuan!" 
 
 The ' boy ' withdrew, but in a minute or so came 
 back with the intelligence that there was no man of 
 the description about the place. The chuprassy, he 
 said, admitted that there ought to have been such a 
 man, but he was lost. 
 
 Mr Templeton laughed. " He did not look the sort 
 of fellow to get lost ! " he remarked. 
 
 " These people are most annoying," muttered 
 M'Whizzle. " Send in the chuprassy." 
 
 The man came sheepishly. His tale sounded 
 obscure. The man Podd, it appeared, had obstinately 
 dawdled behind as he, the chuprassy, hastened home- 
 wards in accordance with the instructions of his 
 master. More than once he had warned Podd of 
 the danger he ran of incurring their master's anger, 
 but Podd had laughed contemptuously and eventually 
 disappeared round a corner. 
 
 M'Whizzle, in a strict cross-examination, failing to 
 obtain any additions to this story, dismissed the man, 
 and clapped his hands again. 
 
 The ' boys ' appeared with more dilapidated china 
 bowls, which the guests accepted doubtfully. Chop
 
 46 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 sticks were handed round. Mrs Nixon examined hers, 
 and requested that a spoon should be supplied her. At 
 that moment a telephone bell began to ring violently. 
 
 M'Whizzle who, chop sticks in hand, had begun 
 his task of pick and shovel, and was acquiring masses 
 of shark-fin hash with almost Chinese rapidity, laid 
 down his bowl. 
 
 " More work," he said, with a laugh. " They can't 
 leave me alone ! " 
 
 He went into the next room, his office it was sur- 
 mised, shutting the door carefully behind him. Mr 
 Templeton called attention to his precaution against 
 being overheard, and said he was a born detective. 
 
 His wife agreed, and added that he was one of the 
 most mysteriously interesting men she had ever met, 
 a statement which Maud knew embraced a good deal. 
 
 " But I will not have any more of his dinners," said 
 Mrs Nixon, firmly. 
 
 He was away a long time. The grinding of the 
 telephone bell told them that he was ringing up some- 
 one himself. 
 
 He came back at last, seated himself unconcernedly, 
 and finished his portion of shark-fin hash. 
 
 " It's a coincidence your being here," he remarked 
 to Mr Templeton. " The message concerned you. 
 But I rang up the Central and got all my men in 
 motion. So you will not be troubled until to-morrow." 
 
 He clapped his hands for the next course. 
 
 " If it is not too inquisitive," said the merchant, 
 curiously, " I should like to know how I'm con- 
 cerned." 
 
 " Apparently one of your horses has been stolen,"
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 47 
 
 said M'Whizzle. " The animal you are thinking of 
 running for the Singapore Derby." 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Mr Templeton, in an agitated 
 voice. 
 
 " Your groom, Ryan, seems a shade perturbed about 
 it," pursued M'Whizzle. " I told him not to worry. 
 We shall have the horse by to-morrow night." 
 
 " But," said Mr Templeton, getting up, " he's quite 
 right to be upset. It's a most serious thing. Half 
 Singapore has money on Old Joke. They'd never 
 forgive me if anything went wrong. And I've risked 
 a large sum myself. We must get home at once." 
 
 "You will wait for the trepang tart?" urged 
 M'Whizzle. " It's my pibce de resistance." 
 
 " We can't, positively." 
 
 " I shall be dreadfully disappointed," he pressed. 
 " Do persuade your husband, Mrs Templeton." 
 
 " We must go," replied Mrs Templeton, firmly. 
 
 "Then, if you must," yielded the Chief of the 
 Secret Police. He smiled indulgently. " I know how 
 you feel, and I sympathize. Look out for me in the 
 morning." 
 
 " You don't think there's any chance of our losing 
 Old Joke, then?" asked Mrs Templeton. 
 
 M'Whizzle surveyed her, and smiled again. 
 
 " I may say that my intention is to give the crime 
 my personal attention," he said, reassuringly. 
 
 " Thank you," she murmured, relieved. " Indeed, 
 thank you." 
 
 But, in spite of his assurance, it was an anxious 
 party that in two separate gharries hurried back to 
 Tanglin.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 IT is a sad commentary on human nature that the 
 first effect of a disaster is the general discovery that 
 somebody else is to blame for it. In the Nixon's 
 gharry the opinion was expressed that gross careless- 
 ness had been exhibited by the owner of Old Joke. 
 The favourite ought to have been better guarded. 
 Those in the gharry of the Templetons also came to 
 the conclusion that the favourite ought to have been 
 guarded better by Nixon as District Officer and 
 those under him. Both Mr and Mrs Templeton 
 agreed that district officers ought to have more sense 
 of their obligations towards the community than to 
 go gadding about Kampong Glam with their mothers, 
 leaving their districts in charge of nobody. Indeed, 
 Mrs Templeton, who never had liked Mrs Nixon, 
 seemed to be of the opinion that it was a mistake, 
 and weakening to the moral fibre of government offi- 
 cials in general that they should possess mothers or 
 other female relatives. 
 
 Without going quite so far as his wife, the merchant 
 stepped out of the gharry into his palatial bungalow 
 firmly convinced that he had been unfairly treated, 
 and determined to adjust the balance as soon as 
 possible. He sent for Ryan at once, and was occupy- 
 ing the period of waiting by pacing the library when 
 
 48
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 49 
 
 the telephone rang. It was Lochinvar M'Whizzle 
 issuing his final instructions to everybody for the 
 night, before going to bed. Maud left her step-father 
 with his ear glued to the receiver, making notes, and 
 went to the lamp-room. By dint of a lengthy process 
 of examination and selection, she secured a hurricane 
 lamp filled with paraffin and passably trimmed. She 
 lighted it and, creeping out of the back of the bunga- 
 low, proceeded rapidly to the stables. 
 
 She found them, as she expected, in darkness and 
 absolutely unguarded. It was enough to make any- 
 one steal a few more horses, but she resisted the 
 temptation and went through the widely open door 
 direct to the stable lately occupied by Old Joke. 
 
 Here everything was in order. A pet mongoose in 
 its hutch in the empty stall seemed much as usual. 
 The bedding of straw and bracken in the favourite's 
 stall looked clean and not more than usually disturbed. 
 The rack was half-full of hay, and the usual piece of 
 rock salt lay in the manger. The horse had evidently 
 been quietly walked away. She flashed her lamp 
 about. The robbers, as far as she could see, had left 
 no sign of their identity. The unoccupied stall next 
 door, where the hutch reposed, had a plank flooring. 
 Pieces of harness, brushes, a boot or so lay about. 
 
 She had finished her examination of this stall also, 
 and was about to go elsewhere when some dust in a 
 corner beside the mongoose hutch caught her eye. 
 She had reached the stage of her investigation when 
 she felt confident of being disappointed. She bent 
 down with a slightly weary air. But in a moment 
 all feeling of lassitude had departed, and she found
 
 50 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 herself gazing with intense interest at the perfect 
 imprints of a pair of naked feet. It was apparent to 
 her at once, with all her inexperience of the East, that 
 none of the Malay stablemen had left these imprints. 
 The Malay foot, she knew, was very short and square 
 with a high instep. But the imprints were those of 
 a man with an enormous flat foot; and such a type 
 of foot was only owned by one race in Singapore, the 
 Kling or native of Southern India. 
 
 The intruder had been standing partly on tiptoe to 
 peep over the partition between the two stalls. That 
 was very clear from the unequal indentation of the 
 dust. He must have been a short man, for this 
 partition was not much more than five feet high. 
 
 Having got thus far, Maud stood up. She possessed 
 a secret. There at once rose within her a natural 
 craving to share it without delay. Evidently all that 
 was now necessary was to find a short Kling with 
 large feet and an interest in horses. It would not 
 require much skill for a man in Lochinvar M'Whizzle's 
 position to do that. . . . But for her to help him to 
 find the missing racehorse was the last thing she 
 wished. He might, she knew, want to marry her out 
 of gratitude! 
 
 Now she had found out a fact worth knowing, she 
 could not help admitting to herself something she 
 had declined to admit before, namely, that if the 
 racehorse were recovered without the help of that 
 estimable person, Lochinvar M'Whizzle, she for one 
 would not be unduly depressed. The fact that he 
 was so certain of finding it was enough to make 
 anyone hope he would not.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 51 
 
 Although she had not expected to find Alec Nixon 
 at the stable, it seemed to her rather slack of him 
 not to have put in an appearance on the scene of such 
 an important crime before that. Now, perhaps it was 
 well he had not done so. Had he found the foot- 
 prints he, in duty bound, would inform M'Whizzle, 
 as his senior officer, of their existence. The almost 
 overwhelming impulse to tell even Alec was therefore 
 to be resisted. 
 
 She lifted the hutch bodily oft" the box on which 
 it reposed, moved the box along a few inches to cover 
 the foot-prints, and replaced the hutch. 
 
 She had completed this, and was engaged in the 
 delicate tasJk of smoothing the dust on the floor 
 with a piece of bracken to conceal all traces of what 
 she had done, when footsteps sounded outside the 
 stable. 
 
 Dropping the piece of bracken over the partition, 
 she struck a well-marked attitude of ease and awaited 
 the visitor. 
 
 It was Nixon. He also carried a hurricane lamp. 
 He looked surprised and, she fancied to her indigna- 
 tion, a shade disgusted to find her there. 
 
 " I thought I'd take time by the forelock and have 
 a quiet look; round," he said, explaining his presence. 
 
 " You ought to have looked round first, instead of 
 worrying about time," Maud said. " I came here 
 half-an-hour ago. My mongoose is all right." 
 
 " It's lucky you didn't come earlier," said Nixon. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " They might have taken you instead of the race- 
 horse."
 
 52 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " I wish they had," said Maud, calmly. " I'm long- 
 ing for an adventure of some sort." 
 
 " Carried off to Tidatau and introduced to the 
 Rajah's six wives ! " 
 
 "Has he six?" 
 
 " The latest bulletin said six," replied Nixon. " But 
 that was some months ago." 
 
 " You've come to the conclusion, then, that the 
 Rajah is the man who has taken Old Joke ? " Maud 
 asked, feeling it was time to give the conversation a 
 turn upwards. 
 
 " I should think he did," replied the District Officer. 
 " He seems to be the one to gain by it. And he's 
 quite capable of doing it, too." 
 
 " I suppose you'll search Tidatau and the 
 palace?" 
 
 "That's in M'Whizzle's hand," said Alec Nixon. 
 " The Rajah is Royalty, and I don't think M'Whizzle 
 can do much in that way without good grounds. 
 What I am sorry for is that any racehorse should 
 have been stolen in my district. It looks bad." 
 
 " Everyone's blaming you already," said Maud, 
 comfortingly. " Indeed, from what my mother said 
 on the way home just now, the idea is gaining ground 
 that you stole Old Joke yourself in order to gain 
 credit for Mr M'Whizzle." 
 
 " That's kind of her." 
 
 " As you know," Maud went on, " we think the 
 world of Mr M'Whizzle. But, personally, I can't help 
 hoping he does not find Old Joke for at any rate a 
 week or two. He'd be disappointed if the case were 
 too easy."
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 53 
 
 " The sooner the better, I should think," Nixon 
 remarked. 
 
 " I suppose you wouldn't subscribe to a stained- 
 glass window of Mr M'Whizzle ? " asked Maud. " I 
 should like one for my sitting-room, to be reminded 
 of him when my mother isn't there." 
 
 " He's about the limit," said Nixon, goaded into 
 candour. 
 
 " You're not going to try and find this racehorse 
 yourself?" Maud asked. "Competition isn't always 
 bad, even in your service." 
 
 " Well," said Nixon, consideringly. He sat down 
 on the mongoose's hutch. 
 
 " Well ? " said Maud, inquiringly. 
 
 It was just then that a mysterious noise commenced 
 overhead. Something heavy and soft, it seemed, was 
 being bumped at irregular intervals about the loft 
 above. In the brief silences between the sounds flakes 
 of whitewash detached from the ceiling dropped 
 lightly on the ground. Maud and Alec, listening in- 
 tently, heard next a scraping noise as of a body being 
 dragged with difficulty over a rough floor. 
 
 " Sounds like someone in the hay-loft," said Maud 
 in a scared whisper. 
 
 For answer, Nixon got up from the mongoose's 
 hutch, tiptoed over the floor to the ladder, and with 
 a signal to her to stay where she was, ascended and 
 disappeared. 
 
 His head re-appeared the next moment. It seemed 
 that he could not see anything. Asked why, he 
 whispered hoarsely that he thought it was because 
 it was pitch dark. Whether extremely flippant or
 
 54 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 very stupid, such an answer was enough to irritate 
 anybody. 
 
 Maud got up from her seat on the hutch, seized 
 the lamp, and, rattling it menacingly, climbed the 
 ladder. 
 
 " Thank you ever so much," said Nixon, stretching 
 out a hand. 
 
 " Roll yourself out of the way," said Maud, sternly. 
 " I'm coming up myself." 
 
 She climbed in smartly, and, still on her knees, 
 flashed the lamp around. 
 
 " Nothing here," said Nixon in a relieved whisper. 
 " False alarm. Must have been a rat we heard or 
 something." 
 
 " More likely an elephant," said Maud, sarcastically. 
 
 At that moment the noise began again. In the 
 confined space of the hayloft it sounded loud enough 
 to be alarming. 
 
 " It's underneath the hay," muttered the District 
 Officer. " If it's an elephant it's a monster, I think 
 you'd better go down. Give me the lamp." 
 
 " No," said Maud. Her voice sounded brave, but 
 she felt herself trembling. In the dim light of the 
 lamp the pile of hay could be seen heaving convul- 
 sively. 
 
 " I insist on your going down," hissed Nixon, 
 sharply. " It's not safe." Keeping a watchful eye 
 on the hay, he backed slowly towards the trap-door. 
 
 " What are you going to do ? " asked Maud, in an 
 alarmed whisper, backing also. 
 
 " I'm going down too," replied the District Officer, 
 briefly.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 55 
 
 It was a disappointing reply, but the strategy 
 seemed sound. 
 
 " You'll come back when you've got a gun ? " asked 
 Maud. 
 
 " I may do," said Nixon, non-committally. 
 
 At that instant, with a last convulsive movement, 
 the hay parted. The pair flattened themselves against 
 the wall as a dark-complexioned face at the end of a 
 long neck protruded from the opening and an injured 
 voice demanded the return of its watch and chain. 
 
 It was a voice that both remembered having heard 
 somewhere before, and Maud, going closer, flashed 
 her lamp hurriedly over the features of its possessor. 
 
 " Aren't you Mr Podd? " she asked. 
 
 The owner of the face turned it, and eyed her bale- 
 fully. 
 
 " That's it ! " exclaimed Nixon. " Archibald Podd, 
 the young man from Borneo. M'Whizzle's new clerk. 
 What are you doing here, Podd?" he asked, in a 
 stern voice. 
 
 " Whatever I'm doing, which I do not know, 
 Mister," returned Podd, with elaborate sarcasm, " I'm 
 not doing it of my own sweet will, I assure you. I 
 might as well ask you, excuse me, what you are doing 
 here. This is a free country. At least they tell 
 me so." 
 
 " I don't want any nonsense," said Nixon, with 
 'dignity. " A famous racehorse is missing from the 
 stable below, and I find you concealed in this hay- 
 loft. How do you explain this ? " 
 
 " And do you expect me to sit here without my 
 watch and chain, Mister, and explain something about
 
 56 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 which I know nothing?" asked Podd, indignantly. 
 " Don't talk silly." 
 
 He rose. 
 
 " I am going now," he said coldly. " This hayloft 
 is no fit place for a gentleman. I was invited to sit 
 in it. As a reward I get a severe blow on the right 
 ear and awake to find my watch and chain neatly 
 pinched. This is not the kind of hospitality I have 
 been used to in Borneo, I can assure you. You will 
 hear further from me in the morning. In fact, every- 
 body will hear further from me in the morning." 
 
 "I suppose you know I am the District Officer?" 
 asked Nixon. 
 
 " We will decide all that later in the police court," 
 said Podd, warningly. " We shall see what my friend 
 Mr M'Whizzle has to say about these goings on. He 
 is a kind man, but when he hears that my watch and 
 chain have been abstracted upon his native heath he 
 will be merciless, I can tell you that." 
 
 "Don't be stupid," said Nixon. "I don't know 
 anything about your watch and chain. But in the 
 meantime the racehorse has been stolen, you've been 
 found here in suspicious circumstances, and you'll 
 have to come with us ! " 
 
 " If you think I have stolen the racehorse, I demand 
 to be searched," said Podd, indignantly. 
 
 " We don't think you have," said Maud, in a sooth- 
 ing voice. " I, at any rate, am certain you have not." 
 
 " Thank you, Missie." 
 
 " But you can be of great help to us, Mr Podd." 
 
 " Always your obedient servant," said Archibald, 
 bowing.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 57 
 
 " You will come down now with us to the bungalow, 
 Mr Podd, and tejl my father what you .know? You 
 can be of great assistance." 
 
 " And my watch and chain ? " asked Podd, bowing 
 again. 
 
 " I'll make it my business to see that you get it 
 back, or one as good," Maud promised. 
 
 Thus secured against loss, Archibald's spirits rose. 
 
 With a gaiety which was remarkable, he stopped 
 in the stable yard, and with the aid of a lantern 
 exhibited a discoloured swelling as big as an egg 
 behind his right ear. 
 
 But except that he had ascended into the hayloft 
 at the invitation of Ryan, and had at once been dealt 
 a severe blow by some unknown person, he said 
 nothing bearing on the mystery. 
 
 Ryan corroborated the first part of the story, the 
 size of the bump the second. M'Whizzle, who arrived 
 later in a bullock wagon, having been telephoned for 
 urgently, used all his arts of cross-examination on 
 both men without eliciting any further information. 
 
 He departed about midnight, taking Podd with him,
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 IT might have been owing, as M'Whizzle stated, to 
 the special interposition of some mysterious agency, 
 or to the unexpectedly elaborate cunning of some 
 gang, that the police were baffled, but the fact re- 
 mained that a week elapsed and Old Joke had not 
 been recovered. It was a state of affairs, M'Whizzle 
 said, unique in his experience. He could only put 
 it down to the causes above mentioned. 
 
 " I expect I shall have to take a hand in the game 
 myself, Podd," he said to his confidential clerk. 
 
 " Yessir," said Archibald, gravely. 
 
 The office with its rows of shelves, telephone, type- 
 writer, card indices, duplicates, adding machine, its 
 polished mahogany and burnished mirrors, was a new 
 experience for the young confidential clerk. He did 
 not say so, having in his twenty years or so of life 
 learnt the unwisdom of constantly volunteering ignor- 
 ance. There was something about his face, he had 
 found out, which made people instinctively believe 
 that he knew everything. What it was he did not 
 .know. His was no ordinary face. The mirror 
 whispered that to him constantly. He did not like 
 its colour much. The nose, he sometimes felt, was 
 a quarter of an inch too far to the left, the moustache 
 over the thick blackish lips would never trust him 
 
 58
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 59 
 
 and come outside no matter how persuasively he 
 stroked it. But then Nature where he came from, al- 
 though bounteous, was never accurate in her methods. 
 Many of his friends in Borneo, he knew, walked about 
 with noses at least half an inch out of truth, and still 
 preserved hope. No, he had met no faces he would 
 change his for. 
 
 He had seen some faces, too. Brown Dyak faces 
 up in the Lawas district; the white, cunning ones of 
 Chinese traders who came up the broad river in 
 houseboats full of piece goods and groceries, bartering 
 their merchandise for gutta and beeswax; the softer, 
 rounder features of the Malay bark collectors. Men 
 and women, they used to stare at him, the white 
 child, as if he were something curious, and they in 
 their feathers and loin cloths merely ordinary, talking 
 the while of people he had never known, especially 
 of his father, the wonderful European who had lived 
 for years on the bank of the sluggish river, and had 
 died there. His grave was to be seen, a plain slab of 
 billian. Later on, other white men had come to visit 
 it. He had been produced, naked but for a charm or 
 two, very unwilling to be friendly. He remembered 
 the scene, and how the white men laughed when they 
 found he spoke nothing but Dyak, and was disinclined 
 to make much use of that. 
 
 It had surprised and terrified him to be carried that 
 evening down to the steam launch. The men of the 
 kampong, swarthy and long-haired, naked but for the 
 chawats round their loins, had stood on the jetty and 
 grinned. Not a woman had turned out to witness his 
 departure. They had never been very kind, the
 
 60 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 women of the kampong, and this last act of neglect 
 confirmed the unfavourable impression he had even 
 in those early days formed of the sex. In Labuan, 
 at the school the stoutish head mistress gave him no 
 reason to alter his opinion. Indeed, she deepened it. 
 What school mistresses wore slippers for, when ordi- 
 nary women were content to go bare-footed, he did 
 not know or rather he did. Different from the usual 
 half-caste, he reached the age of sixteen without 
 having felt much desire to take up love-making as a 
 recreation. At twenty he was a confirmed bachelor 
 with a liking for the society of men and a taste for 
 adventure, which Labuan was too small to allow him 
 to gratify. 
 
 He had now been in his berth a week and was 
 proudly conscious that he was giving satisfaction. 
 Of his employer he could not as yet make much. It 
 was an unique specimen, not to be encountered else- 
 where, but Archibald did not know this. He took 
 the Chief of the Secret Police for a European of 
 higher grade than any he had yet encountered, and 
 was still awestruck. It flattered him that such a 
 brilliant being was, while preserving his distance, 
 inclined to be friendly and to inquire after his rela- 
 tions; and in the endeavour to reciprocate he taxed 
 his imagination to the uttermost, drawing touching 
 pictures of his dear old mother up the Lawas River 
 and the inadequacy of her supply of loin cloths, the 
 only garment, it appeared, which she cared to wear. 
 He had a feeling that a man without relatives was 
 not quite respectable. 
 
 " One of these days, Podd," M'Whizzle had said in
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 61 
 
 a fatherly way, " I shall perhaps be sent on a mission 
 to the Lawas River. You will accompany me, and 
 together we will visit your parent in her home." 
 
 It was clear also that his master was inclined to 
 trust him, for that same afternoon he had taken him 
 into another room and shown him, after a lecture on 
 the necessity for secrecy, the records on cards of most 
 of the prominent people in Singapore. 
 
 As a consequence, when M'Whizzle made the re- 
 mark above mentioned " I expect I shall have to take 
 a hand yet," and said next, " Good Podd, bring me, 
 if you please, the dossiers of Mr Templeton, Miss 
 Anderby, Ryan the groom, and the Rajah of Tidatau," 
 the new confidential clerk was able to go into the 
 next room and come back with the requisite cards in 
 two minutes. 
 
 " Hum," said Lochinvar M'Whizzle, thoughtfully. 
 He looked fixedly for a minute at the small bronze 
 Buddha on his writing-table, as if in search of in- 
 spiration. Archibald, in his clean white suit, stood 
 respectfully beside him, his black eyes flashing in- 
 telligently, his well-oiled, rather long hair carefully 
 parted in the middle. 
 
 " Podd," said M'Whizzle, suddenly. 
 
 " Yessir." 
 
 " You will sit down in that chair and read me those 
 dossiers in a low voice." 
 
 The young clerk took the seat pointed out to him, 
 and cleared his throat. " Rajah of Tidatau," he read 
 out. " Surname Rahman, Christian name Abdul, son 
 of last Rajah ; age 35 ; complexion dark, eyes brown, 
 size medium, religion Mahomedan but drinks freely,
 
 62 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 wives six, owns racing stable, bets, gambles, frequents 
 hotels, ran away with telephone girl when 18, but other- 
 wise nothing against him. Finger prints recorded." 
 
 " Good," said M'Whizzle, nodding. He made a 
 note in shorthand on a tablet. 
 
 " Templeton, John. Profession merchant. Com- 
 plexion fair, hair and moustache grey to white, age 65. 
 Tall. Thin. Married twice. Christian but not strict. 
 Owns racing stable, bets infrequently, drinks moder- 
 ately. Otherwise nothing against him. Finger prints 
 recorded." 
 
 " Anderby, Maud. Occupation, step-daughter of 
 above. Complexion fair, hair golden-brown, eyes blue. 
 Height tall. Size slender. Age 18. Christian but 
 with no vices. Finger prints taken." 
 
 " Nixon, Alexander. Profession, Government ser- 
 vant. Complexion ruddy. Hair brown, eyes blue. 
 Height tall. Single. Age 30. Christian but not strict, 
 drinks bets and gambles in moderation. Otherwise 
 nothing against him. Finger prints recorded." 
 
 " Ryan, Albert. Trade, groom. Complexion pale. 
 Hair grey, eyes blue, clean shaven. Height low. 
 Married to Eurasian, one daughter. Christian but not 
 strict. Drinks bets and gambles in moderation. Other- 
 wise nothing against him. Finger prints not recorded." 
 
 " We have not got Ryan's finger-prints," said 
 M'Whizzle, thoughtfully. 
 
 " No, sir," replied Archibald. He carefully exam- 
 ined the card again, and gave his head a worried shake. 
 
 " I shall not touch the case without them," said 
 M'Whizzle, in a decided voice. He stroked his small 
 chin.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 63 
 
 " You'll have to get them at once," he directed. 
 
 " Yessir," said Podd. He sprang up, eager to oblige. 
 " If you will indicate to me where they are, sir?" he 
 ventured. It was plain from his attitude that he 
 thought they were in the immediate neighbourhood, 
 probably in the next room. 
 
 " Sit down, good Podd, sit down." M'Whizzle 
 waved his hand languidly. " Finger-prints are not 
 obtained so easily as you seem to think," he explained, 
 when the eager young clerk had seated himself. " You 
 will need guile and strategy " 
 
 Archibald nodded intelligently, and took a note. 
 
 "Where do I get these things, sir?" he asked. 
 
 " What things ? " inquired Lochinvar M'Whizzle, 
 sitting up. 
 
 " The oil and and the other thing, sir." 
 
 " I never mentioned anything of the sort," said 
 M'Whizzle, angrily. 
 
 " No, sir?" muttered Archibald, in an uneasy voice. 
 He was certain his master had. There it was, written 
 down in the notes. But experience told him it was 
 unwise to contradict a white man; he might be 
 drunk. 
 
 His face did not express these thoughts. It looked 
 indeed so perfectly stupid that M'Whizzle smiled. 
 One had to learn, the smile said, to be forbearing with 
 fools. There were so many of them about. 
 
 " You will need, good Podd," he explained, " not 
 oil, but merely a piece of prepared white paper, which 
 I shall give you. You have already made the ac- 
 quaintance of this man Ryan?" 
 
 " Yessir," said Archibald, nodding his head.
 
 64 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " Then if you ask him to take a glass of ale with 
 you it will not cause him surprise." 
 
 Archibald shook his head doubtfully. 
 
 " I think he might never be so surprised in his life, 
 sir," he objected. " And I should be surprised beyond 
 belief also." 
 
 " Well," said M'Whizzle, testily. " What you have 
 to do is to get him to press with his fingers on the 
 piece of white paper I shall provide. How you do 
 that I do not mind. You understand?" 
 
 " Yessir, I unnerstan'/' returned Archibald, looking 
 mystified. 
 
 " Go up there some time to-morrow," directed 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle. " See me before you go, and 
 obtain your final instructions. . . . Now read this." 
 
 He took from the desk a large sheet of blue official 
 paper, which Archibald accepted with a bow, and, 
 sitting erect in his chair, scanned with rolling eye, 
 his thic.kish lips moving. To his relief there were 
 not many words he was unacquainted with. 
 
 " Disappearance of Race Horse from the Stables of 
 J. Templeton, Esq.," he read in a rolling voice. " In- 
 spector Crusty's Preliminary Report. I have the 
 honour to state that on receipt of instructions I pro- 
 ceeded to the stables aforementioned at 9.30 on the 
 morning of the 17th inst. The alleged robbery had 
 taken place some time in the previous evening " 
 
 " He says alleged," murmured M'Whizzle, making 
 another note. 
 
 " The stables are situated in a corner of the com- 
 pound adjacent to the main road, and connected 
 therewith by a double wooden gate. As it was only
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 65 
 
 17 yards from this gate to the stall from which the 
 horse was stolen and 675 yards directly across a 
 vegetable garden to the other gate of the compound, 
 I concluded that the horse must have been led out of 
 his stable through this wooden gate. The fact that 
 there were no hoof-marks on the vegetable garden 
 seems to confirm the accuracy of the conclusions 
 drawn " 
 
 " One minute," said M'Whizzle. He made another 
 note. " I rather question that conclusion," he 
 muttered, smiling. 
 
 " A strict search of the whole neigh neighbrood," 
 went on Archibald, after clearing his throat, " failed 
 to reveal any trace of hoof-marks anywhere. The 
 drought and the iron condition of the soil were not 
 in favour of such impressions being left. A thorough 
 inspection of the stable from which the horse was 
 alleged to have been abstracted proved disappointing. 
 There were no marks of any sort to be discovered, 
 except a number of finger-prints which are so con- 
 fused as to be of doubtful value. Only two witnesses 
 have so far been examined, these being the only two 
 who seemed likely to throw any light on the alleged 
 crime. Albert Ryan, Mr Templeton's head groom, 
 stated that he visited the horse alleged to have been 
 stolen twice on the afternoon of the crime and once 
 in the early evening. During the latter visit he was 
 called on by one, Podd " 
 
 " There is only one Podd," the young clerk inter- 
 rupted himself to explain, his eyes flashing with in- 
 telligence. " In all these countries " 
 
 " Go on, please," said M'Whizzle in a cold voice. 
 
 E
 
 66 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " One Podd, an an imm immigrant from 
 Borneo ! " Archibald completed the setence with a 
 questioning stare, and paused. 
 
 " Will you kindly go on reading? " said M'Whizzle, 
 impatiently. 
 
 " Podd, Ryan found on investigation, had been en- 
 gaged as confidential clerk by Lochinvar M'Whizzle, 
 Esquire. In consequence of something which is not 
 yet very clear, Podd climbed to the hay-loft. Mr 
 Templeton and party visited the stable. Ryan accom- 
 panied them back to the bungalow. When he returned 
 he went to the hay-loft, and found that Podd had 
 apparently disappeared. Satisfied that Podd had gone 
 home, he returned to his house for supper. About 
 ten o'clock he went back to the stable and found the 
 horse had disappeared. There were no native under- 
 grooms on duty that day, it being a fast day among 
 the Malays. The second party examined was the 
 person Ahasuerus Archibald Podd. This man stated 
 that he was of mixed parentage " 
 
 " Sir," protested Archibald, excitedly, interrupting 
 himself, " this man lies. I did not state this. I said 
 with the utmost distinctness that my mother, so they 
 told me, was the daughter of a Dyak chieftain, and 
 my father, so far as could be ascertainable, was a fine 
 old British gentleman. And this impertinent fellow 
 calls such parentage mixed! It is quite clear, this 
 parentage ! " 
 
 " Quite," agreed M'Whizzle, smiling at the young 
 fellow's excitement. " Go on, please." 
 
 The confidential clerk, after a few more indignant 
 pants, proceeded:
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 67 
 
 " He, Podd, had arrived the day before from Borneo 
 to take up employment under Lochinvar M'Whizzle, 
 Esquire, and at the conclusion of an interview had 
 been directed to proceed to Lochinvar M'Whizzle 
 Esquire's house. On the way thither, feeling it in 
 in cumbent on himself owing to the nature of his 
 new employment to learn as much about his surround- 
 ings as possible, he seized the opportunity ?" 
 
 M'Whizzle nodded as the clerk paused and looked 
 at him inquiringly. 
 
 "- Of visiting Mr Templeton's stable. Having 
 never seen a hay-loft before, he, with Ryan's per- 
 mission, ascended for the purpose of self-instruction 
 into the one there, when he at once received a blow 
 from an unseen hand which stunned him. He re- 
 covered consciousness later, and was rescued by Miss 
 Anderby, step-daughter of Mr Templeton, and Mr 
 Nixon, District Officer. The blow might have been 
 administered by an ordinary club or similar blunt 
 instrument. I hope to make a further report shortly." 
 
 Archibald cleared his throat nervously. 
 
 " That is the end, sir," he said, handing back the 
 paper. 
 
 " It might well have been the end of you too, Podd," 
 said M'Whizzle, with a pale smile. " I should like to 
 see that bump myself." 
 
 "You want to see my bump, sir?" exclaimed the 
 young clerk, his heart beating. 
 
 " Certainly I do." The Chief of the Secret Police 
 smiled at his subordinate's excitement, and, picking 
 up from the desk a large magnifying glass, beckoned 
 him over to the light.
 
 68 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 Archibald bent down and, with a gratified smile, 
 submitted to examination. 
 
 " You add a new zest to my labours, sir," he burst 
 out gratefully when the ordeal was over. 
 
 " Indeed," murmured M"Whizzle, surveying him, 
 obviously much amused. 
 
 " I enter Singapore as your confident clerk," pursued 
 the grateful Podd. " Within a week I fin' myself 
 almost born a detective, and already a centre of much 
 study to the whole police." 
 
 The rapidly-growing interest Archibald toojc in his 
 new employment increased by a leap a few hours 
 afterwards, when he found himself called from the 
 kitchen to attend his master in a small room at the 
 right of the back entrance to the house. 
 
 It was a room which, during the first week, had 
 perplexed him greatly. There were mysterious pro- 
 ceedings in it every evening. So much he had dis- 
 covered. Soft-footed strangers in dirty-hued robes 
 came and went without so much as a knock. He had 
 captured one of them on the first evening after his 
 arrival, a tall bearded fellow in a sugar-loaf hat, and 
 smelling strongly of the stable, but the Chinese ' boy ' 
 whom he had summoned to his help had told him in 
 an alarmed voice to let his prisoner go. It was an 
 order, he said, that such visitors were not to be inter- 
 fered with. 
 
 None of the servants were able to give any informa- 
 tion about the business of these visitors. True 
 Chinese, they were not interested in anything that 
 did not immediately concern themselves. They told 
 Archibald vaguely that the comings and goings had
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 69 
 
 something to do with their master's work. It was 
 little enough to go on, and Archibald, full of eager- 
 ness after knowledge, had tried to find out more for 
 himself. But a criminally negligent carpenter had 
 made the door without a keyhole. 
 
 On this evening there was no need of keyholes. 
 The door-keeper, a Pathan in grimy yellow robes, 
 looked surprised and a shade disgusted when Archi- 
 bald presented himself for admission. But Archibald 
 knew this was mere jealousy at the sight of such a 
 smooth-haired, white-suited product of civilization. 
 He had bought another watch chain that afternoon. 
 Its end was his only weak point, and to have asked 
 him the time would have been to make an enemy. 
 But he was young enough -to take the risk and face 
 the world. 
 
 He smiled superciliously at the dirty Highlandman 
 from India, answered M'Whizzle's shouted query in 
 Dyak plainly his master had been on the watch 
 and entered. 
 
 A pair of dripping candles, hung in frames of 
 coconut-shell from the sweating walls, gave the only 
 light. Round the floor on the bamboo mat six or 
 seven figures squatted motionless. He recognized the 
 stout Chinese landlord from the slums, a Parsee 
 moneylender in a tall black hat, a chitty from Madras, 
 half-naked and very dignified, with a smear of white 
 earth across his forehead. These three, probably with 
 an eye to business, frequented the house and were 
 friendly with the servants. The others were complete 
 strangers. Lochinvar M'Whizzle, in the glittering 
 costume of a Malay minor Rajah, sat cross-legged
 
 70 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 at the end of the room, smoking an enormous palm- 
 leaf cigarette. Every other man puffed slowly and 
 unceasingly at the particular brand of tobacco affected 
 by his race. The blend of the acrid smoke with the 
 heated air and exhalations of nearly a dozen perspir- 
 ing bodies gave a thickness and a flavour to the 
 atmosphere a thousand times more Eastern than any- 
 thing Archibald had yet experienced. 
 
 He coughed vigorously, cleared his throat, and re- 
 membering that in the pocket containing his watch 
 chain there was a bottle half-full of eau de cologne, 
 drew forth his handkerchief and saturated it with the 
 scent. 
 
 " This is a youth, Podd by name, who has entered 
 work with me," said M'Whizzle softly in the ver- 
 nacular. 
 
 Archibald felt half-a-dozen pairs of beady eyes 
 watching him steadily. He owed three of their owners 
 a dollar each already, and nourished a secret hope of 
 owing them considerably more. But no one, he felt, 
 least of all his master, would have guessed from their 
 demeanour that these three had already had the 
 pleasure of making his acquaintance. Handkerchief 
 in hand, he distributed carelessly a graceful salute 
 around, and turned with an inquiring bow. 
 
 " Take this tablet, good Podd, and sit here," directed 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle, with a dignified wave of his 
 arm. 
 
 Spreading his handkerchief carefully, the young 
 Eurasian took the place pointed out to him. 
 
 " We are about to examine further witnesses in the 
 racehorse case," explained M'Whizzle in Dyak.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 71 
 
 Podd muttered his acquiescence, and, observing his 
 master cast a self-satisfied smile round the greatly- 
 impressed circle, followed suit himself. 
 
 " Call Hadji Mendout," directed Lochinvar 
 M'Whizzle in a low voice. 
 
 " Salaam." 
 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle, busy with his palm-leaf 
 cigarette, which was not drawing well, watched the 
 stout figure in pale-green robe and voluminous turban 
 squat down in the centre of the apartment. 
 
 " Tabek, Lord, art well." 
 
 " Salamat, sit down O Hadji, salamat." 
 
 It interested Archibald to see the Chief of the Secret 
 Police, utterly at home in these strange surroundings, 
 speak, smile, and smoke at the same time. It was a 
 feat he had never witnessed before; he had resolved 
 to imitate it, when the fit of choking that seized the 
 performer made him change his mind. 
 
 " Are thy brothers and sisters," gasped Lochin- 
 var, throwing down the cigarette, " all well Tuan 
 Hadji?" 
 
 " Well, O Lord of the Policemen." 
 
 "And Mrs Hadji?" 
 
 The fat Malay looked perplexed. 
 
 " I mean," gasped Lochinvar, " is the contents of 
 the house of the Hadji well ? " 
 
 " She is," said the fat man, with an oily smile. 
 " But she grieves also intensely at the ill success that 
 has attended my efforts. Night and day have we 
 searched, O Tuan, inquiring of every syce in Singa- 
 pore, but no trace of the missing racehorse have we 
 been able to discover."
 
 72 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " Make a note of that, Podd," said M'Whizzle, in 
 a displeased whisper. " Here's fourpence. Take him 
 to the door and hand it to him. . . . Your tidings, 
 O Hadji," he continued, in a louder key, " are not of 
 such a nature to give us satisfaction. But pursue 
 your searchings, I entreat, and visit me again. Mean- 
 while take this purse from my purse-bearer and depart 
 in safety." 
 
 He acknowledged the stout Malay's salute with 
 gravity, and, taking no notice of a slight sound of 
 scuffling and a personal remark or two coming from 
 the region of the door as the purse was handed over, 
 took up the tablet and wrote a sentence on it in 
 shorthand. 
 
 When Archibald came back, smiling excitedly and 
 looking rather flushed, he spoke to him again in Dyak, 
 and with an air of indecision picked up the palm-leaf 
 cigarette, put it down again, and turned to an ordinary 
 Virginian. 
 
 " Summon the Jat horseman, Binga Da," he said. 
 
 This having been done, Archibald found himself 
 obliged to use the remainder of the eau de cologne. 
 The conversation was, irritatingly enough, conducted 
 entirely in Urdu. But Urdu was not necessary to 
 appreciate that here was a man thoroughly in touch 
 with the stable. He wore a ragged smock of un- 
 bleached linen, his feet were naked, his long hair 
 unkempt, and legs covered with ill-fastened soiled 
 linen putties. 
 
 There was a sharp altercation between him and 
 M'Whizzle in Urdu, which Archibald listened to, 
 slightly scared. Evidently what the man said was
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 73 
 
 not to be trusted, for his master told him afterwards 
 that Bingha Da was an ill-flavoured wretch who tried 
 to draw a red herring across his track. 
 
 It was a summary that Archibald felt inclined to 
 agree with. He did not know what a red herring was 
 until his friend the Chinese ' boy/ whom he consulted 
 afterwards, opened a tin and gave him one, but the 
 adjective ill-flavoured described the situation admir- 
 ably. 
 
 Generally he gathered from his master's remarks, 
 after the room was empty and one could speak the 
 English language without losing caste, that the search 
 for the racehorse had been remarkably unsuccessful, 
 and that he, Lochinvar M'Whizzle, was more than 
 ever determined to make immediate investigation 
 himself.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 AMONG the many hardships Singapore people have 
 to put up with is the lack of iced strawberries for 
 breakfast at certain seasons of the year. Pineapple 
 and papaw are always with us, and the banana ex- 
 hibits eternally its plebeian figure on the veranda-table 
 of high and low alike. But unless one happens to be 
 a Government officer and this does not happen so 
 easily as, for instance, chicken-pox there is little 
 chance of obtaining a share of the delicious fruit that 
 comes down daily from the gardens at the top of 
 Taiping Hill. 
 
 Strawberries always made Mrs Nixon ill; but it 
 was on the plea of her presence under his roof, and 
 the consequent necessity of additional nourishment, 
 that Nixon had been able to secure a double supply 
 during the past few weeks. It made him rather sought 
 after, and, as Robert, the Kling butler, had often 
 remarked, gave the servants a deal of extra work. 
 
 " Robert nothing doing, Robert fat getting, chairs 
 always breaking," Nixon had told him comfortingly. 
 But the dignified ebony countenance of the servant 
 had disdained a smile. 
 
 " He hates strawberries," Nixon said to Maud, who 
 had come in before breakfast to borrow a book and, 
 pressed, had consented to stay for the meal. 
 
 74
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 75 
 
 " A sensible man ; I wish I did," sighed his mother, 
 looking at the rosy plateful. 
 
 " But Robert hates them for another reason. He 
 fancies himself as a gardener, and a long time ago 
 when he first saw them he took a handful and planted 
 them. He watered them for months, but nothing 
 happened. He hates being chaffed about it. ... 
 Robert!" 
 
 The dignified, white-robed butler left his post of 
 observation on the veranda, and moved softly over 
 to the table. 
 
 " Master nothing eating," said Nixon. " Good food 
 wanting. Robert bacon bringing." 
 
 The butler went to the back of the screen and 
 brought the dish. The District Officer helped him- 
 self, and looked up solemnly. 
 
 " Strawberries stopping coming," he said in a grave 
 voice, nodding at the fruit. " Robert always helping." 
 
 The butler nodded, a slight expression of pleasure 
 flitting over his face. 
 
 " Robert berries planting," proceeded Nixon. " Gar- 
 den watering. Fruit growing. Insects eating." 
 
 " Master, you make fun," replied Robert, severely, 
 in broken English. With an offended look on his 
 face he stalked back to his position on the veranda 
 edge. 
 
 " I wouldn't stand it if I were Robert," declared 
 Maud, trying hard to suppress a smile. 
 
 " We know each other well," said Nixon, apologeti- 
 cally. " He rather likes being taken notice of." 
 
 "He used to nurse Alec when a baby," explained 
 Mrs Nixon. " He told me in confidence the other
 
 76 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 day that he thought he'd become much more trouble- 
 some since then." 
 
 " Oh, did he ! " exclaimed the District Officer. 
 
 " I agreed," said the old lady, drily. " When Alec 
 was a child I never imagined he would become more 
 troublesome, but he takes after his father, who was 
 a persevering man." 
 
 " I wish you'd be persevering after the racehorse," 
 Maud remarked. 
 
 " I've been doing nothing else for the past week," 
 returned Alec, defensively. 
 
 " Oh, I do hope you've found something." 
 
 " Nobody's found anything," snapped Mrs Nixon. 
 " Anything smaller than an elephant takes a deal of 
 finding in the East. When I was in Siam one of the 
 royal white elephants was stolen. They did not re- 
 cover it for months." 
 
 " Perhaps somebody painted it black," suggested 
 Maud. 
 
 " They did," Mrs Nixon informed her. 
 
 " Then why," exclaimed Maud, eagerly, " shouldn't 
 somebody dye Old Joke black?" 
 
 The District Officer looked at her admiringly. 
 
 " I never thought of that," he admitted. 
 
 " There, you see," jeered Mrs Nixon, with a pitying 
 glance round. ..." I suppose Mr M'Whizzle couldn't 
 find her a berth in the police, could he, Alec?" 
 
 The District Officer seemed to think M'Whizzle 
 could do anything. " I'll tell him about your idea," 
 he added. 
 
 " You're not to," Maud ordered. " Such a fright- 
 fully clever man would certainly have thought of all
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 77 
 
 that long ago, and I don't want to be laughed at. 
 But I wish somebody would find the horse. We are 
 all so irritated and nervy about it, life is getting un- 
 bearable. Even the cat has developed a temper. My 
 father says he is going to give you another three days 
 and if no news comes he is going to scratch the horse 
 for the Derby." 
 
 "He shouldn't do that," said Alec. "Give the 
 police time." 
 
 " You can't hurry the East," Mrs Nixon reminded 
 her. " And a policeman out East is about the most 
 dilatory thing in Nature." 
 
 The conversation was interrupted by the loud im- 
 portant voice of Robert, whose dignified, white-robed 
 figure, slightly swollen with indignation, drew all eyes. 
 
 " Go away ! " said Robert again in Malay, address- 
 ing some unseen person in the front garden. " Go 
 away ! " 
 
 " I wonder what he's got there," muttered Nixon. 
 " Nobody I want to see, I hope. It's a hobby of his, 
 scaring people." 
 
 He got up and walked towards the veranda. 
 
 " Robert angry speaking," he said in English. " Hot 
 day coming, Robert's inside boiling, outside perspir- 
 ing, draught blowing, Robert sick feeling, coffin 
 making, Robert planting." 
 
 " Master must speak to this beggar," said Robert. 
 " Me he obeys not." 
 
 Alec Nixon looked over the veranda. Those at the 
 table were startled to hear his exclamation of sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " Go away at once," he roared in Malay. " Get out !"
 
 78 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 And he turned, and in a whisper advised those at 
 the table to come and have a peep. 
 
 " I never saw anything like him before, and I 
 thought I knew all the castes," he said in a low voice. 
 "Isn't he a rum un?" 
 
 Out in the brilliant sunlight of the garden by the 
 edge of a big bed of crotons a small man stood looking 
 at them fixedly. His dirty flannel coat, much too large 
 for him, was a mass of folds and tucks. On his head 
 was a gigantic red turban. An enormous wooden 
 rosary hung like the chain of a Lord Mayor round his 
 neck. Pencil cases, pen, seals and charms were sus- 
 pended from an embroidered girdle. His baggy green 
 trousers were drawn in at the ankles about scarlet 
 wooden shoes. His yellow wrinkled face was dis- 
 tinctly Mongolian, his eyes mere slits. 
 
 " What an extraordinary looking man," gasped 
 Maud. " I've never seen one like him before." 
 
 " I have," said Mrs Nixon. 
 
 " Where ? " asked her son, eagerly. 
 
 " At Drury Lane once," replied his mother. 
 
 " The most extraordinary thing about him to me," 
 remarked Nixon, " is the fact that when I tell him 
 to go, he won't. ... Go away ! " he shouted again in 
 Malay. 
 
 " This man spiks not Malay, master," said Robert. 
 " Him Indian." 
 
 " Try him in Tamil," suggested Mrs Nixon. 
 
 The butler shook his head. " Him a rogue, sir. . . . 
 He no spik my language when he doesn't wish under- 
 stand. All he understand then is language of Tibet. 
 ... He know nobody spik that. . . . Goo away ! "
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 79 
 
 He shook a dignified fist at the garden. 
 
 " I think he's a lama," decided Maud, who had been 
 quietly examining the small, amazing figure. " There 
 are mystic signs embroidered on his girdle ! " 
 
 " Isn't a lama a sort of sheep indigenous to the 
 Zoo ? " asked Mrs Nixon. 
 
 " A Tibetan lama, a mendicant, a guru." 
 
 " Guru," echoed the butler, glancing at her appre- 
 ciatively. " Missie right ; him religious man ; people 
 him much feeding, him plenty prayers making." 
 
 As if in corroboration of the butler's remark, the 
 small figure in the garden produced a wooden begging 
 bowl from his voluminous trousers, and, holding it 
 before him, began a loud, unearthly, wailing chant. 
 
 The sound aroused the two dachshunds on the 
 veranda, already in a state of some excitement, to 
 violent frenzy. They emitted a series of short yelps 
 and, as if inspired by a single thought, dashed down 
 the broad wooden steps and moved swiftly across the 
 flower-beds to the attack. It seemed as though they 
 had been uncertain whether the new comer was friend 
 or foe until they heard him sing. They were all 
 decision now. 
 
 The mendicant defended himself vigorously with 
 the begging bowl, but nevertheless a distressing sound 
 of tearing calico came almost at once. 
 
 In some alarm Nixon dashed down into the garden, 
 calling off the dogs. But before he had gone five 
 yards a lithe, dark-complexioned figure in a white suit 
 rushed through the gate and was almost instantly 
 beside the guru, laying about him furiously with an 
 elegant ebony walking-stick.
 
 80 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 The rolling eyes, the dangerously flashing teeth, 
 and the lightning changes of expression in that tawny 
 face under the immaculate straw hat made the new 
 comer difficult to recognize. But Maud knew him 
 at once. 
 
 "Why!" gasped Mrs Nixon. "Why! . . ." She 
 began to laugh. 
 
 " Yes," said Maud. " It's that young fellow, Podd." 
 
 " No, but the mendicant," said Mrs Nixon in a 
 whisper. " The guru ! The lama from the Zoo. . . . 
 Can't you see, Maud? It's Lochinvar M'Whizzle." 
 
 " Thank you, good Podd, thank you," drawled the 
 well-known voice as the guru straightened himself. 
 " Ha, Nixon ! " 
 
 " Great Heavens ! " exclaimed the District Officer, 
 coming forward rapidly. 
 
 The young confidential clerk dashed up again and, 
 taking out his gold tie-pin, bent to repair the damage 
 done by the dachshunds. 
 
 " I never dreamt for a moment ..." began Nixon, 
 in a distressed voice. 
 
 " Fierce animals, those of yours," said the Chief of 
 the Secret Police, making a magnificent effort to pre- 
 serve an oriental calm. 
 
 " We feed them on blood," said the other, with a 
 forced laugh. " But I'm awfully sorry it was you." 
 
 " As well to be me as any other lama," said 
 M'Whizzle, nastily. " I can afford to buy a new pair 
 of trousers occasionally. A Tibetan lama cannot. 
 You ought to keep such dogs muzzled. They are a 
 public danger! . . . Thank you again, good Podd. Is 
 all well?"
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 81 
 
 The young clerk bowed delightedly, and, backing 
 towards the croton bed, listened to the further 
 apologies of a particularly distressed District Officer. 
 It was plain to him that the predicament of his master 
 might have been much worse. With such a fierce 
 pair of dogs anything was possible. If he had not 
 rushed in at that moment more than clothing might 
 have been torn. His master's blood might even then 
 have been dyeing that fair lawn. He raised his stick 
 and shook it again menacingly at the ferocious 
 creatures, which at once retreated up the veranda 
 steps, barking fearfully at him over their shoulders 
 after the manner of dachshunds. They had learned 
 their lesson! Who was that saying ' poor dog?' He 
 glanced upwards again, and saw two ladies in white 
 standing on the veranda. There had then, he told him- 
 self, warming, been fair witnesses of the gallant rescue. 
 
 Glowing, he took off his straw hat with a flourish. 
 It was a bow more to himself than to them, but they 
 accepted it, and acknowledged it with smiles that 
 plainly were as appreciative as could be. 
 
 " You come up too, Podd," cried the elder lady, 
 whom he recognized as Mrs Nixon. 
 
 Turning, he found that his master had taken the 
 arm of the District Officer and was making towards 
 the steps. With a thrill of pity, he noticed that the 
 great man was limping slightly. He ran towards him, 
 proffering in concern his ebony walking-stick, then 
 his arm. 
 
 Was he hurt? Was he bitten? Oh, no, not bitten ! 
 Archibald was thankful to hear his master say that 
 in answer to the questions flung at him on reaching 
 F
 
 82 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 the veranda. Not bitten! He had merely, he said 
 offhandedly, hit his shin with his begging-bowl in the 
 scuffle. 
 
 There was no gory wound to be bound up. Merely 
 a slight bruise on the slender snow-white shin to be 
 treated by the younger lady with vinegar. Archibald, 
 as he watched, felt that he would gladly be bruised 
 to be cured thus, even though the smart and pain of 
 the vinegar should cause him to screw up his face as 
 his master was doing now. 
 
 His master liked the young lady better than the old 
 one, that was plain enough from his manner. It was 
 perfectly natural too for him to do so, for she was 
 beautiful, and clear-skinned, with hair like the sun 
 and eyes like the sky. 
 
 A fine thing, Archibald felt, to be, as was his master, 
 rich enough to purchase any wife he wanted. He 
 rather hoped that this Mr Nixon was not rich also; 
 for, judging from the expression in his eye, he too 
 wanted to buy the young lady. What would be the 
 price asked for such a lady, Archibald wondered. 
 People in Labuan had told him that white men were 
 in the habit of getting their wives for nothing. And 
 from what he had seen there he did not greatly wonder 
 at it. But this was a very different lady from any he 
 had yet encountered. No parent, he was sure, would 
 dream of parting with her without receiving a very 
 handsome wedding portion. The grace of her every 
 movement was enchanting. Even the angels in the 
 mission school picture-books were earthly things 
 beside her. He wondered what it would cost to buy 
 an angel. Whatever the price, he was sure his master
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 83 
 
 could afford it. A great man, his master, one of the 
 greatest in Singapore, and everybody on the veranda 
 seemed to know it. They were flattering him and 
 petting him as he had seen the women on the Lawas 
 River fuss a head chief. They told him again and 
 again about the wonderfulness of his disguise. They^ 
 laid a table on the veranda, and with their own hands 
 brought him strange eatables. 
 
 And Archibald noticed with relief that at last he 
 appeared to have forgotten about his accident, and 
 was smiling contentedly. 
 
 " Let my man Podd sit down on the floor here," he 
 said. Then Archibald found himself rushed into the 
 very centre of the picture. They brought him things 
 to eat, also, these beautiful ladies, queer-tasting things. 
 Egganbacon one was called. Perhaps the most re- 
 markable was a wonderful berry called the strawberry. 
 Yes, he was acquainted with the European grass called 
 straw; in the Labuan office of his late employer he 
 had seen packing-cases full of it, so he told the ladies, 
 smiling broadly; but he was unaware that the fruit 
 of this straw was so beautiful and so pleasant to the 
 palate. They laughed with joy to see him so pleased, 
 and brought him still more fruit. His master, 
 strangely enough, would not eat it, saying that it 
 reminded him of the cold and melancholy north and 
 destroyed the atmosphere. 
 
 Archibald did not know what that meant, but it 
 spoilt his appetite for the next plateful. They were 
 nice, but he did not want to destroy anything belong- 
 ing to his master. So he left half. When he thought 
 no one was looking he put one or two of the best
 
 84 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 berries in his pocket in order to have some for planting 
 afterwards. The spoon with which he ate was silver. 
 The weight of it told him that. He resisted a slight 
 temptation to put it beside the strawberries for plant- 
 ing. The enjoyment of hospitality had, he knew, its 
 penalties, as had also a position in the centre of the 
 picture. 
 
 Next came talk about the missing racehorse; and 
 here his master shone as brilliantly as ever, telling 
 all he had to tell, which, as Archibald knew, was 
 nothing, with the air of one who holds back a very 
 great deal. Clearly some of these people were not to 
 be trusted. Otherwise his master would deal more 
 plainly with the subject. Now who was the suspected 
 person? Archibald decided that it must be the old 
 lady. So, when she happened to look his way, he tried 
 to freeze her with a terrible stare. 
 
 " My dear young lady," said his master to Miss 
 Anderby, with a curious enigmatic smile, " ask me as 
 many questions as you wish. But I don't say that I 
 shall answer them." 
 
 It was a strange smile, Archibald thought, and made 
 his master look even more like the great detective 
 that he was. He tried furtively to imitate it, but 
 without much success, and determined on further 
 practise after reaching home. If he could only imitate 
 that smile, he reflected, what heights might he not 
 reach. Already he had made good progress. A week 
 ago unknown, and this morning sitting at his ease on 
 the most select veranda in Singapore, regaling himself 
 with the fruit of the straw after having effected a 
 daring rescue from dogs. It seemed unreal, but it was
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 85 
 
 real. Scattered about him were the legs of famous 
 Europeans. There was nothing unreal about them. 
 If his Labuan friends could see him squatting there 
 now they would die of jealousy. In a mirror he could 
 see the reflection of his dark but handsome face grin- 
 ning at him appreciatively. That of the beautiful 
 Miss Anderby a yard above was smiling, but looked 
 puzzled. Still she asked questions ! She would never 
 end her questioning, it seemed. 
 
 " Dear lady," drawled his master. " I came up this 
 morning in this disguise as, from certain information 
 certain private information I was led to believe 
 that I should succeed better as a Tibetan lama in 
 finding out what I wanted to know than as a common 
 European." 
 
 "And did you?" 
 
 " My dear Miss Anderby I " said M'Whizzle, smiling, 
 obviously at her innocence in believing that he was 
 to be so easily drawn, " I may say I visited the scene 
 of the robbery, namely the stable. Unfortunately 
 your groom, Ryan, was there. He is a brusque indi- 
 vidual with, so I gathered from his conversation, a 
 marked dislike to Tibetan lamas. But still one must 
 be tolerant of the lower classes. ... I later went to 
 your bungalow, and came away again having collected 
 from Mrs Templeton five cents, two bananas, and a 
 piece of dry toast in my begging-bowl without being 
 recognized. Here, however, you were too sharp for 
 me." 
 
 " If only you had not sung," said Mrs Nixon. " The 
 dachs are very patient as a rule." 
 
 " It was the Tibetan national anthem," explained
 
 86 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle. " It does, I admit, sound better 
 in the Himalayas than in a low-lying, hot country 
 such as this. But I could not resist the temptation. 
 There seems to be in my temperament, dear lady, 
 more than a spice of the dramatic. With these clothes 
 on they came from a lamasserie I was unable to 
 refrain." 
 
 " Thank goodness for that ! " said Mrs Nixon. " I 
 expect the dogs would have liked the refrain even 
 less than the anthem." 
 
 Archibald Podd stared ferociously at her again. 
 Although she seemed not to like his master's singing, 
 she was a rude old lady to let it be seen. He was 
 glad to notice that the others hissed her. He joined 
 heartily in the demonstration himself. His master 
 said: 
 
 " Ha, ha ! very good ! " But his smile showed he 
 was not pleased. 
 
 ; * I hope your secret information proves useful," said 
 Miss Anderby, coming back to business. " We seem 
 to be further off recovering the horse than ever." 
 
 " I'll recover it," Lochinvar assured her. 
 
 " Don't you think," asked Nixon, " that the Rajah 
 of Tidatau has the horse in his stables there?" 
 
 "The last man I suspect," replied M'Whizzle, 
 decidedly. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " My dear Nixon ! " The Chief of the Secret Police 
 raised a protesting hand. 
 
 The watchful Archibald, noting the irritation visible 
 on the faces of all at his master's expression, resolved 
 once again to practise that enigmatic smile.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 WHETHER owing to the vinegar or the attacks of an 
 enterprising mosquito, the bruise on the shin of the 
 Chief of the Secret Police grew worse during the next 
 twenty-four hours. Its owner, developing a slight 
 temperature, was confined to his room by the doctor, 
 and Archibald found himself with spare time in plenty 
 at his disposal. He spent the hottest part of the 
 following days in the small bedroom allotted to him 
 at the top of the house, busying himself with reading 
 the paper, polishing his teeth, watering the straw- 
 berries, and practising the smile. From this retreat, 
 when the sun was sinking and the air had grown 
 cooler, he came forth late one afternoon and sauntered 
 into the town. 
 
 It was a mighty place, owned, folk said, by the 
 Chinese and Roman Catholic communities, but ob- 
 viously possessed by a multitude of young men, 
 varying in colour from ebony to plain white, and of 
 about the same age as himself. There were thousands 
 of these young men about, driving round the broad 
 red laterite roads in rickshas behind the padding feet 
 of half-naked, sweating Chinese pullers, congregated 
 thick on the side walks, thicker in the bars of the 
 hotels. As yet Archibald did not know any of them. 
 From their keen eyes he felt that they recognized him 
 
 87
 
 88 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 for a stranger, and often found himself tingling un- 
 comfortably. 
 
 He wandered on to a big green that ran alongside 
 the harbour, divided from the shallow water by a low 
 sea-wall and a road lined with casuarinas. Here a 
 hundred Chinese nonyas took the air, driving to and 
 fro in glittering motors. Bareheaded, their glass- 
 smooth hair a pincushion of ornaments, they lounged 
 back, their suet-coloured, oily faces contented and 
 impassive. Carriages and pairs crammed with Parsees 
 and Klings, all of them with their families, dashed 
 past, the harness of the prancing horses clinking, the 
 white fly brushes held by the scarlet footmen trailing 
 in the wind. The dipping sun yellowed the vast green, 
 where hundreds of Europeans in flannels were playing 
 tennis, or sitting at round tables in front of the large 
 red-brick pavilion with glasses in front of them. 
 Erropeans seemed as sands of the sea in Singapore. 
 Archibald Podd felt like a hermit crab without a shell, 
 lonely and unprotected. He reflected that he also 
 could hire a tumbler to keep him company. But the 
 big hotel in front of the green looked too grand for 
 such as he. He was aware that those sitting at the 
 round tables on the long narrow veranda would be 
 glad to meet him if they knew he was young Mr Podd 
 from Borneo, but explanations were exhausting in that 
 climate, and he was content to slip down a side street 
 and enter a small but clean-looking house of refresh- 
 ment which he had already noticed. 
 
 There were only a few small tables in the place. 
 The waitress was a Tamil woman with a jewelled 
 nose. She was fat; the size of the place, Archibald
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 89 
 
 reflected, was against much exercise. She was 
 friendly, abusing in a candid way the lemonade, and 
 strongly advising ale. He took her advice, and was 
 aghast at the little change she brought him out of a 
 dollar. She retired behind the bar, and sank at once 
 into a comatose condition. Archibald Podd sipped 
 his expensive ale thoughtfully. 
 
 A dissipated-looking Malay in a white suit and red 
 turbash glanced at him from the next table and smiled. 
 
 " They are more expensive here than at the Raffles," 
 he said, confidentially. 
 
 Archibald shrugged his shoulders, and, as he had 
 already done fifty times that morning on getting up, 
 gave forth an enigmatic smile. 
 
 " You don't seem to mind," remarked the stranger. 
 Archibald noted with satisfaction the tone of respect 
 in his voice. 
 
 " Dear-r lady, no, not when I'm going round the 
 town," drawled Archibald. 
 
 " That's splendid," remarked the Malay. He spoke 
 perfect English. As usual with Orientals, not a con- 
 sonant escaped him. Picking up his glass, he came 
 and sat down opposite Archibald. 
 
 " I am like you," he continued. " When I visit 
 Singapore, I think nothing of money. It is the best 
 way." 
 
 Archibald nodded comprehendingly. 
 
 " It requires much money to think nothing of it," 
 commented the stranger, solemnly. " Singapore 
 
 nowadays is very expensive. I remember ." He 
 
 checked himself, and asked, " Been long around 
 here?"
 
 90 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " A week," said Archibald. He Hesitated " I came 
 down on tour with the steamer from Labuan to fly 
 around for a little while." 
 
 He looked the stranger in the eye, smiled, and 
 sipped his ale, rather vain of his advantageous presen- 
 tation of the truth. 
 
 " Are you flying back next boat ? " asked the Malay, 
 a friendly expression on his hard face. 
 
 " Dear-r lady, no, I've got a Government job 
 appointment," Archibald said proudly. He drew out 
 a highly-scented handkerchief, gave his nose a formal 
 blow, replaced the handkerchief, and sat at atten- 
 tion. 
 
 " A good appointment? " 
 
 Archibald smiled enigmatically. 
 
 " We have all sorts of Government jobs," said the 
 other, a flicker of what looked like unbelief showing 
 about his thin lips. " A water-carrier is a Government 
 appointment. And they, too, think nothing of spend- 
 ing fifty cents." 
 
 Archibald reddened. 
 
 " I am no water-carrier," he said. 
 
 " None of them are when you meet them in the 
 town," sneered the Malay. 
 
 " I hold the post of Secretary to the Chief of the 
 Secret Police," said Archibald, grandly. He had be- 
 come more communicative than he had intended, but 
 this was a man that must be crushed at any cost. 
 " Perhaps you," he hinted, a trifle heatedly, " are a 
 water-carrier." 
 
 " I am, by creed," said the other, laughing, " but I 
 have not been employed for some years now. . . .
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 91 
 
 And how 'do you like Mr Lochinvar M'Whizzle? A 
 very fine man he is, they tell me." 
 
 " He is a person of extreme cleverness," said Archi- 
 bald, cautiously. 
 
 " Just now he is very busy at capturing the robbers 
 of the famous racehorse," said the Malay. " I do not 
 suppose you know about that?" 
 
 Archibald looked volumes at the wall opposite, and 
 took another large sip at his beer. 
 
 " He would not trust you about that," remarked the 
 Malay, decidedly. 
 
 "Would he not?" burst out Archibald. "Do you 
 know I am his confident clerk, and everything that 
 he does he trusts to me?" 
 
 " You are a detective then, sir ? " 
 
 Archibald hesitated, then nodded. " As for this 
 horse," he said, "we're not allowed to give any infor- 
 mation, mister. But we can give you a plain tip. Many 
 people think that the Rajah of Tidatau has this horse. 
 But I and Mr M'Whizzle do not yet think so. We do 
 not jump at a conclusion. Oh, no ! You doan' find we 
 detectives jumping at a conclusion. We work slowly, 
 and we keep on hiding things. We find it better." 
 
 The other nodded comprehendingly. 
 
 " I am pleased to meet you," he said in a very 
 friendly tone. " I do not know your name," he con- 
 tinued, with an air of apology. " But you will know 
 mine, Hadji Mahomet of Singapore." 
 
 " And I," responded Archibald, with a confident 
 smile, " am young Mr Podd of Borneo." 
 
 " I have heard of you somewhere," murmured the 
 Hadji, casting a ruminative eye at the ceiling, as if
 
 92 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 expecting to remember seeing this new acquaintance 
 in some such lofty position. " We will drink yet more 
 ale together." 
 
 Archibald, after taking due care that his glass should 
 be quite ready for refilling, fumbled in his pocket. 
 
 " I have a few visiting cards left," he said. " Here 
 is one for you. You may keep it." 
 
 "That is a beautiful card," remarked the Malay, 
 admiringly, gazing at it at arm's length. 
 
 " One dollar twenty the hundred only," said Archi- 
 bald, in a satisfied voice. "There's a great demand 
 for them, I fin', in Singapore." 
 
 "What does the 'A' mean?" 
 
 " I have the honour to offer you my cigarettes," 
 said Archibald Podd, hastily producing a paper pack- 
 age. " You will fin' them good. No cheap muck for 
 we detectives, doan' you know. Up in Borneo Mr 
 Podd is well known, but in Singapore not so. So I 
 have had these cards made so that my best friends 
 can remember who I am." 
 
 " Podd . . . Podd . . . Podd . . ." repeated the Malay, 
 in an effort after memorizing the name. " Podd . . . 
 Podd." 
 
 " Think, of the sweet-pea flower," advised Archibald, 
 his face glowing. 
 
 " I will," promised the other. " You must not forget 
 my name either. Mr Lochinvar M'Whizzle knows me 
 well." 
 
 " I was not aware of that," exclaimed Archibald, 
 surprised. 
 
 " Mention Hadji Mahomet of Singapore to him," 
 said the Malay, " and you'll see how happy he looks."
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 93 
 
 He stopped a moment, then went on, with a laugh, 
 "Tell him, confidentially, confidentially " 
 
 The young man nodded, his eye gleaming. 
 
 " That I was coming to see him to give him some 
 very particular information, but I met his confidential 
 clerk instead. You'll remember?" 
 
 " Most certainly, mister." 
 
 " Now, I wonder if I can trust you." 
 
 " Trust me ! " exclaimed Podd, eagerly. " Everyone 
 trusts me, Mr Mahomet. Why, sir, do you know that 
 a missionary once lent me ten dollars?" 
 
 " Very well, I will. Tell him Hadji Mahomet was 
 passing through Tidatau yesterday, and he saw with 
 his own eyes the racehorse Old Joke." 
 
 " What-t ! " gasped the astonished Archibald. 
 
 The other bent over, clutched his arm, and 
 whispered : 
 
 " I was in the Palace on business, and I saw the 
 racehorse being led, decorated with ribbons, into the 
 harem. I knew it by its colour." 
 
 " It is a yellow one," said Archibald, in an excited 
 whisper. 
 
 The other cast an uncomprehending glance at his 
 working features, an'd laughed shortly. " Yell yes, 
 yellow, the favourite colour of all Malay Rajahs," he 
 said. ..." You promise," he went on, " that you will 
 not forget to mention what I have told you to Mr 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle?" 
 
 Archibald was about to promise with effusion, but, 
 recollecting in time that too great a display of eager- 
 ness might arouse suspicion, brought out a pocket- 
 book covered with forget-me-not pattern paper, sucked
 
 94 MR PODD OH BORNEO 
 
 the point of his pencil with an affectation of ease, and 
 calmly made a note, replacing when he had done so 
 the piece of special paper for taking finger-print im- 
 pressions given him lately by his master. 
 
 When he left the restaurant a little later he looked 
 like a Christmas cracker, full of pop and motto. Keep- 
 ing to the middle of the street, he leapt along, his 
 ebony walking-stick flashing. He was making for 
 home and duty straight as the crow flies; but none 
 on that crowded pavement would have guessed that 
 from his beaming face and glittering smile. 
 
 He wheeled round a corner in splendid style. 
 
 " Hallo, there ! " said somebody. 
 
 It took Archibald three paces to pull up. 
 
 " Mr Ryan ! " he exclaimed, when he recognized 
 the gorgeously-attired person before him, the little 
 European groom. " Dear-r lady ! How ar-re you ! " 
 
 He had felt happy before, but this was the crown- 
 ing touch. All these Singapore people were now 
 witnesses of the fact that he too had friends one of 
 them a distinguished European sportsman. His 
 eyes, rolling in their sockets, noted rapidly the im- 
 pression he was making on the bystanders. He shook 
 hands again with great effusion. 
 
 " I have been exhausting the delights of Singapore 
 this evening," he shouted. " I thought I had finished 
 them, and was journeying homewards. But I meet 
 you, Mr Ryan, and I find there is one left." 
 
 " Let's go in somewhere," said the little groom, 
 shortly, annoyed to notice the spectators exchanging 
 smiles. 
 
 A moment later Archibald foun'd himself seated
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 95 
 
 behind a large glass" of lemonade from which two 
 straws protruded. It was a wonderful place, Singa- 
 pore. The number of tumblers alone in it seemed 
 incalculable. Coming as he did from the Lawas River, 
 where there were only two and a tea-cup without a 
 handle, the sight of the multitude of these glasses 
 everywhere he went impressed him more than any 
 other evidence of the wealth of the white man. But 
 the urging of politeness caused him to cease after a 
 moment his stupefied study of the enormous bar. He 
 turned to the groom with a smile. 
 
 " We are getting on famously with our investiga- 
 tions about this racehorse," he remarked. " Mr Loch- 
 invar M'Whizzle is enormously pleased. He is, I 
 assure you." 
 
 " As long as he's pleased," said Ryan, sarcastically. 
 " And when is the horse coming back? " 
 
 Archibald smiled enigmatically. " I should not like 
 to promise anything, Mr Ryan," he said, with a know- 
 ing air. " Not off-official-ly. But in great confidence 
 I may tell you that " 
 
 " Yes," said the groom, bending over, with interest. 
 
 " We know so fairly well as almost to be certain, 
 where your horse is." 
 
 "You do?" muttered Ryan, eyeing him with great 
 respect. 
 
 " We have had our suspicions for some time, Mr 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle and myself," continued Archi- 
 bald in a whisper. " And this afternoon I happened 
 to be sitting at the same table as a man whose in- 
 formation is extremely reliable I cannot tell you his 
 name. You will unnerstan' that!"
 
 96 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 The groom, listening intently, nodded. 
 
 " The name will come out later but the informa- 
 tion that he gives is quite extra-ordinary reliable." 
 
 "And what is it?" asked Ryan, eagerly. 
 
 " Later on you will hear," said Archibald, after 
 slight hesitation. He would have liked to share the 
 secret, but was determined that not one should be 
 before him in bearing it to his master. Not that this 
 wizened little groom looked the sort of person to 
 betray a confidence. With his thin face and long slit 
 of a mouth he seemed built for secrecy. . . . Not that 
 he was over reticent either. Indeed, as they sat 
 chatting, he revealed quite a number of facts about 
 his past. He had been a jockey, it appeared. He 
 talked of stakes and cups and bookies and odds and 
 a number of other mysterious things of which Archi- 
 bald had never heard. Clearly a man who knew every 
 trick about the horse-racing business ; a cunning man, 
 not likely to give away much, not even finger-prints. 
 Archibald remembered now that this was the man 
 whose finger-prints he had to get. He wondered how 
 he should manage it. 
 
 " Concerning this racehorse," he said, when the ex- 
 jockey had come to the end of an obscure statement 
 about somebody in the Oaks and the pulling of a 
 horse ..." No, sir, I 'gree it was not kind to dumb 
 animals to do what you said he done to the horse under 
 the oaks; but it is so long ago that it don't concern 
 me much. What I'm worrying about, dear lady, is 
 your horse, Old Joke I think you call it ? " 
 
 The groom nodded. 
 
 " We are getting on splendidly with the case t Mr
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 97 
 
 M'Whizzle and me. And I have information here in 
 one of my pockets that will make those concerned 
 sit up, I can assure you. . . . But we are puzzled over 
 one little matter, Mr Lochinvar M'Whizzle and I." 
 
 Archibald paused, and looked at the groom signifi- 
 cantly. 
 
 " Yes ? " said the groom. 
 
 " You, Mr Ryan," said Archibald, impressively, " are 
 the missing link." 
 
 He had come to the conclusion that he could not 
 partake of his friend's hospitality and at the same time 
 get his finger-prints by stealth. In any case, he felt, 
 the groom was too wide awake for such an enterprise 
 to meet with success. He looked at him, and trembled 
 to note a distinct expression of anger in his thin face. 
 
 " My dear-r man-n," he said, soothingly, holding 
 up a dark and slender hand. 
 
 " This is about the limit," snapped Ryan, with an 
 angry look in his small blue eye. " So I'm the missing 
 link! If you ask me anything, you and M'Whizzle 
 are very much more like missing links than ever I 
 was or ever will be. And you can go home and tell 
 him so as soon as ever you like, the ugly conceited 
 pup that he is." 
 
 " Mister Ryan, Mister Ryan," implored Archibald. 
 " Keep sitting. Doan't get up into the air. Let me 
 explain." He pulled the piece of special paper out 
 of his pocket, and put it on the table in readiness. 
 
 But the groom had already risen and picked up his 
 topee. " I'm off," he said. " You'll have to learn 
 better manners before I'll keep your company." 
 
 Archibald, somewhat scared, watched him march off. 
 
 G
 
 98 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 Half-way down the restaurant he turned, came back, 
 and, picking up the piece of paper on the table, wrote 
 on it " Two lemonades. A. Ryan." 
 
 " Give that to the waiter when he comes for pay- 
 ment," he said roughly; and stalked out of the 
 restaurant. 
 
 Archibald, staring stupidly at the paper as it lay 
 on the table, noticed with a slight feeling of triumph 
 the distinct impression of the groom's forefinger. 
 
 He used the rest of his dollar in tipping the waiter, 
 and feeling satisfied, but a little subdued, made his 
 way home. 
 
 The Chief of the Secret Police was now making a 
 rapid recovery from the indisposition caused by the 
 bruised shin, and Archibald, seeking an interview after 
 dinner, found him in the best of humours. The news 
 of the whereabouts of the missing racehorse did not 
 seem to come as a surprise. Indeed, the famous detec- 
 tive as good as hinted that he had suspected the people 
 of Tidatau all along. From his understanding nods 
 it was plain also that he was well acquainted with 
 Hadji Mahomet of Singapore. Hadjis as a rule, 
 M'Whizzle said, were strict teetotalers in public. 
 " You were fortunate, good Podd," he added, with a 
 well-informed smile, " in catching old Hadji Mahomet 
 in his cups." 
 
 " He is not so very old, Mister," objected Archibald. 
 
 " Let me see," said M'Whizzle, looking a shade put 
 out. " Well, no, not so very, really. I should say 
 about about " 
 
 " About forty, sir, I am of opinion," said Archibald, 
 helping his memory.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 99 
 
 "Say, forty-one," said M'Whizzle. "There or 
 thereabouts." 
 
 Had Archibald not known his wonderful master, he 
 might have felt that there was some misunderstanding. 
 But he had Hadji Mahomet's word also that they 
 were acquainted. He felt rather puzzled, but then 
 most of this detective work was puzzling. With his 
 small brow knit he watched the famous policeman, 
 who now squatted Eastern fashion on a mat beside 
 his office chair. There was some deep thinking going 
 on now in that great brain, this was plain to the most 
 casual observer. Absentmindedly M'Whizzle took a 
 piece of palm-leaf paper from his carved wooden case, 
 helped himself from the bowl of coarse black native 
 tobacco, made a cigarette, and began to smoke. The 
 tobacco was of a brand much used by Borneo natives 
 for fumigating fruit trees. Coughing slightly, Archi- 
 bald respectfully drew back his chair a pace or two. 
 
 " Podd," said M'Whizzle, suddenly. 
 
 "Sir?" The young Eurasian looked an eager in- 
 quiry. 
 
 " I am going to Tidatau," announced the Chief of 
 the Secret Police in deliberate tones. " The news 
 you have brought me confirms what I have always 
 thought." He looked steadily at Archibald. " You 
 will be extremely surprised to hear, Podd, what I have 
 to say, but it has always been my firm belief that the 
 missing racehorse was stolen by the Rajah of Tidatau 
 and secreted in his harem." 
 
 Archibald nodded. He could not help looking 
 amazed and delighted at his master's wonderful power 
 of dissimulation, having heard him more than once
 
 100 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 state that he was certain the stolen animal was not 
 in Tidatau or anywhere near it. 
 
 " We have a difficult task before us, Podd," went 
 on M'Whizzle, gravely. 
 
 " We ? " echoed the young Eurasian. 
 
 " I intend to take you with me as assistant," said 
 the Chief of the Secret Police. " I want a man who 
 can hold his tongue, who can be relied on in an 
 emergency." 
 
 Archibald smiled and nodded understandingly. 
 
 " I should have preferred an Ethiopian eunuch," 
 said M'Whizzle, " but I can't get one at such short 
 notice, and besides, he might not understand my 
 habits." 
 
 " Sir," said Podd, non-committally. He did not 
 know what an Ethiopian eunuch was, but felt pleased 
 that such a thing was not readily procurable. 
 
 "And," said M'Whizzle, in thoughtful tones, "if 
 you do happen to be doing any shopping during the 
 next week, you might purchase me a fairly good 
 camel, and a tooth-brush not too hard. Tell them 
 to put it down to the account of the Government. 
 
 Archibald gave a business-like nod, and opening the 
 forget-me-not pocket-book made a note. He did not 
 know much about such things, but was quite pre- 
 pared to buy them. However, during the next few 
 days he was so occupied in getting ready for the 
 journey that he forgot all about this last order of 
 his master's. They were days when he and M'Whizzle 
 were behind closed doors for hours together, when 
 mysterious parcels brought by quaintly-garbed mes- 
 sengers from obscure bazaars arrived frequently at
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 101 
 
 the residence of the Chief of the Secret Police, when 
 Archibald, a queer gleam of excitement in his eyes, 
 foreswore as much as possible the society of the 
 Chinese servants, fearful of betraying secrets known 
 to him and his master alone. 
 
 All was ready for the journey when M'Whizzle 
 referred to the camel again. 
 
 "Camel, sir?" echoed Podd, making a valiant 
 attempt to look surprised. "You want a camel, sir? 
 Yessir. I'm going round to the Co-operative Stores 
 at once, sir." 
 
 " Stores ! " said the Chief of the Secret Police in a 
 disgusted voice. " They don't keep them. You'll have 
 to go into the native bazaar, among the Arab traders, 
 and pick one up there. And you'll have to see about 
 his food." 
 
 " Food ? It is an animal, then ? " exclaimed the 
 young Eurasian, in some astonishment. " I thought it 
 was a female garment." 
 
 " I did not say camisole," said M'Whizzle, tartly. 
 " I said camel. Yes, it is considered by the Western 
 nations to be an animal," he continued, a smile 
 flickering about his lips, " but I believe the 49th Chatee 
 of the Mongolian Empire classes it as reptilian on 
 account of its long neck. But that need not concern 
 you, good Podd. The thing is to obtain one." 
 
 Archibald nodded uneasily, and ran through his 
 natural history. 
 
 " Is it " he asked, and hesitated. " Is it one of 
 
 those high creatures with a humped back that you see 
 on the photographs of the infant Moses taken while 
 sound asleep among the bullrushes ? "
 
 102 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " Not exactly on the photographs, my good Podd," 
 explained M'Whizzle, wearily. 
 
 " And is it necessary, sir, to take such an alarming 
 animal to Tidatau?" inquired Archibald. "All the 
 peoples will be looking at us, sir ! " 
 
 " Those who are on service with me," said the Chief 
 of the Secret Police in a stern voice, " are required 
 to display unquestioning obedience. I have decided 
 that a camel is necessary. That ought to be enough 
 for you. Please be so good as to obtain the animal 
 without any further delay whatever. You can't be 
 expected to understand everything, good Podd," he 
 went on, relenting when he saw his subordinate's 
 hurt expression. " But I may tell you that my object 
 when arriving at Tidatau is to be looked at, is to be 
 observed of all observers, so that the news of our 
 arrival will be borne quickly to the Palace, and we 
 shall be invited thither to display ourselves. And 
 now, enough. Go ! " 
 
 He dismissed the young clerk with a final wave of 
 the hand, and resumed his contemplative attitude on 
 the mat.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 So offhanded had been the manner in which his master 
 had ordered a camel that Archibald went to bed con- 
 vinced that Singapore must be full of them, and that 
 defective eyesight alone was the cause of his not 
 having seen any about the streets. But a visit to the 
 bazaar next morning speedily undeceived him. Not 
 only were there no camels visible, but nobody, it 
 appeared, had ever heard of such an animal. For the 
 information of a suspicious dealer he made a rough 
 sketch of one from memory, and was promptly told 
 to leave the shop, and not try silly jokes on busy men. 
 A Chinese firm to whom he wrote replied by letter 
 stating that they did not understand what he wanted, 
 and besides, had none in stock. Inquiries among his 
 few friends proved equally useless, and at last, in 
 desperation, he resolved to forget about Ryan's in- 
 explicable conduct at the restaurant and seek his 
 advice as a man who had travelled in India and else- 
 where, and had a bowing acquaintance, if one could 
 judge from his conversation, with every animal that 
 went into the Ark. 
 
 He had put on a clean white suit, his straw hat 
 had an elang-elang flower in the band of it, and he 
 carried lemon kid gloves and an ebony walking-stick ; 
 but in spite of all these preparations he walked along 
 the shady avenues of Tanglin to the stable entrance 
 
 103
 
 104 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 of the Templeton's bungalow with inward trepidation, 
 and pulled the handle of the bell as respectfully as he 
 would have that of Government House itself. 
 
 It was three o'clock, and the tropical sun had driven 
 most living things under shelter. The heat was 
 stifling. A dirty Malay stable boy in a red cotton 
 sarong answered the bell, and directed him to a small 
 bungalow bright with bougainvillea, that lay some 
 distance down the road, where the ex-jockey, he said, 
 would be found drinking tea. 
 
 There was no bell here, merely a polished knocker. 
 Reverent applications of this failed to bring an answer. 
 There was evidently no one within. Archibald began 
 to feel bolder. By standing on tip-toe and craning 
 the neck he could see round the side of the bungalow. 
 He saw part of a veranda. In the fence at his left was 
 a high gate leading into what, judging from the row 
 of billowing lingerie, was a place for drying clothes. 
 And, as he looked, a slender brown hand at the end 
 of a bare plump arm appeared above the top of the 
 fence, holding a wooden clothes-peg. Deeply inter- 
 ested, he watched the hand disappear. A moment 
 later, owing to decisive action on the part of a clothes- 
 prop, the line of garments rose at least two feet. 
 
 No further proof that somebody was on the other 
 side of the fence was needed by the budding detective. 
 With a preliminary pull at his jacket back, and a shake 
 of each carefully trousered leg, Archibald emitted a 
 loud, sustained cough, and waited on the doorstep, 
 smiling tremulously, yet confidently. 
 
 Another line of flapping clothes was elevated. He 
 coughed again, clearing his throat in true Malay
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 105 
 
 fashion. Eight dainty henna-stained fingers appeared, 
 gripping the top of the fence. There was a scraping 
 noise. He saw a pink cotton sunbonnet, and under 
 that a low dark forehead, and a pair of large black, 
 curious eyes. 
 
 " Oh ! " said a voice in surprise. The head dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 Half a minute had passed before it appeared again. 
 
 " I've just obtained a box to stand on," said the 
 young woman. " You want? " 
 
 The smiling Archibald lifted his hat with a flourish 
 and bowed low. 
 
 " I'm young Mr Podd of Borneo," he introduced 
 himself. 
 
 " That may be," said the young woman, smiling. 
 " But you've come for something? " 
 
 "Do not you know me?" asked Archibald, a look 
 of amazement on his face. " Has not your father told 
 you about me?" 
 
 "My father?" 
 
 " You are Miss Ryan, are not you ? " asked the 
 young clerk; and then, remembering his manners, he 
 bowed again, and said : " Have I not the honour and 
 extreme pleasure of addressing Miss Ryan?" 
 
 " You are a polite youth," said the young lady. If 
 Archibald was any judge, her voice sounded 
 admiring. 
 
 " Who would not be so, dear-r lady ? " he exclaimed, 
 daringly. 
 
 " Miss Nelly Ryan," she said, looking at him. 
 
 "But there is only one of you?" ventured Archi- 
 bald.
 
 106 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 "There could not be more, could there?" 
 
 " Not except amongst the angels," said Archibald, 
 delightedly. He lifted his straw hat again, and re- 
 placed it at an angle which indicated confidence and 
 a certain amount of dash. 
 
 " So you're from Borneo," murmured the young 
 lady. " That's where the wild man comes from." 
 What she was looking so mischievous at he could not 
 as yet understand. " Yes, my father did tell us of 
 a young man from Borneo." 
 
 " I thought he would," said Archibald, in a triumph- 
 ant voice. " He knows me well. Mr A. Archibald 
 Podd of the Secret Policemen." 
 
 " Father said he had escaped from Borneo." 
 
 "Escaped, dear-r lady?" echoed Archibald. 
 
 He stood blinking. In the dazzling sunlight she 
 looked very sweet and innocent, but for some reason 
 he was beginning to feel rather nervous of her. 
 
 "No! No! No!" he said, shaking his head. "I 
 did not have to escape." 
 
 " They did not think you worth keeping, perhaps ? " 
 asked the maiden, with the air of one trying to acquire 
 information. 
 
 The confidence with which Archibald began the 
 interview was somehow rapidly evaporating. Evi- 
 dently this Miss Ryan had so far failed in a dis- 
 appointing manner to understand him as she should. 
 With the object of preventing any further errors, he 
 produced his pocket-book and, looking extremely 
 dignified, handed her his card. 
 
 " And what is this for? " she asked, twirling it in 
 her fingers.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 107 
 
 " I have had those printed to remind my friends 
 who I am," explained Archibald. 
 
 Miss Ryan at once held out the card to him. 
 
 "Will you not read it?" he asked, gulping slightly. 
 
 " Oh, no, this is for your friends. I see you for the 
 first time this afternoon." 
 
 " But it is for others beside my friends," cried the 
 disconcerted Archibald. " Do read it ! You must 
 read it!" 
 
 " Must," said the young lady. She opened her 
 fingers, and the card fell in the dust on the path beside 
 him. 
 
 He stooped and picked it up, tears of offended pride 
 in his eyes, but, curiously enough, with no feeling of 
 dislike towards the offender. He felt ashamed and 
 guilty of something. He did not know exactly what. 
 
 " I am sorry, miss, you will not read my card," he 
 said in a humble voice. He raised his hat slightly. 
 " Good-bye." 
 
 Feeling very miserable, he turned and walked away. 
 It was after quite half a minute and he was some 
 yards along the path when he heard her call out in a 
 softer voice : " Mr Podd ! " 
 
 She wanted him to come back. For an instant pride 
 struggled fiercely, but he turned. 
 
 " I have changed my mind," said Nelly Ryan. " I 
 should like to read your card." 
 
 He saw she was holding out her hand. Tears of 
 gratitude were in his eyes as he seized and shook it. 
 And when she took the card and did not even ask 
 what the ' A ' stood for, he felt that there was little 
 in the world he would not do for such a girl.
 
 108 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 Destiny, working rapidly, at once provided an occa- 
 sion. There came from inside the paling a spasmodic 
 grunting, and the sound of pattering hoofs. Wings 
 flapped as chickens fled, clucking terrorstruck. Nelly 
 looked over her shoulder. 
 
 " I must go," she said. " The pigs have got out." 
 
 She disappeared, and Archibald stood gazing at the 
 place she had occupied. It looked cheerless and 
 empty. Inside the fence the noise grew. The farm- 
 yard had evidently become a circus. A line of clothes 
 vibrated and fell, and a prop was knocked from under 
 it. A moment later she appeared again above the 
 fence, flushed and panting. 
 
 " Oh, you have not gone," she gasped. " Mr Podd, 
 the pigs have got out. Will you come and help? I 
 cannot manage by myself." 
 
 In a flash Archibald had thrown his hat, stick, and 
 gloves over the fence, and himself at the fence, and 
 was trying to climb over it. He fell, dusted himself, 
 tried again. After a desperate minute, the only 
 pleasant memory left of which was the feel of his new 
 friend's soft bare arms round his neck as she assisted 
 him, he was standing breathless and perspiring inside 
 the paddock. He noted with great irritation that two 
 enterprising fowls had already seized his lemon-kid 
 gloves, and, seeking solitude, were being chased to 
 death by their comrades. Three of the escaped pigs 
 had gathered round the straw hat, and were enjoying 
 a hearty meal. 
 
 It was difficult to decide which to rescue first. After 
 a second's hesitation he chose the hat. Half the brim 
 was already missing, but otherwise it did not seem
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 109 
 
 much damaged. One glove had apparently been 
 swallowed; the other when retrieved was damaged 
 beyond repair. He put it regretfully into his pocket, 
 and turned to the chase. Pigs were, he knew, notori- 
 ously disinclined to go through gates. These were 
 six of the most athletic pigs he had ever encountered. 
 They pranced round the paddock like ponies. After 
 being upset three times by one of them, which, evi- 
 dently mistaking him for a hoop, persisted in attempt- 
 ing to jump through his legs, he picked up his ebony 
 walking-stick, intensely irritated. He had broken it 
 before he at last succeeded in getting the pigs back to 
 their sty. The look of gratitude she gave him was 
 worth the stick and the gloves and straw hat as well. 
 Then came tea on the veranda and the experience, 
 new to him, of sitting in a comfortable chair and 
 being waited on by somebody. No one had ever 
 brought him tea until he came to Singapore. He had 
 been accustomed to make his own on the occasions 
 when there was any. Now mems even had waited on 
 him on the District Officer's veranda. But on that 
 occasion he had sat on the floor and felt himself merely 
 a minor detail. Here he was in the chair of honour, 
 and, moreover, this lady was not so awe-inspiring as 
 were Mrs Nixon and Miss Anderby. She was, he 
 saw, Eurasian like himself, but lighter in colour than 
 any Eurasian girl he had met so far. She had changed 
 her working frock for a light pink gown, and looked 
 more beautiful than ever. He had always thought tea 
 an over-rated drink, but she must have had some 
 special way of making it, for now on this veranda it 
 tasted like nectar.
 
 110 MR PODD OF. BORNEO 
 
 " This is a most delightful veranda," he told her. 
 " See the yellow flowers, coming in to look at it." 
 
 " There are alamandas," said Nelly Ryan. " They 
 are verree pretty, I think." 
 
 " Oh, yes." He looked at her, longing to be impres- 
 sive, but rather feeling doubtful. He decided to run 
 the risk. 
 
 " This is a prettier veranda than Mrs Nixon's, where 
 I was discussing breakfast some mornings ago," he 
 remarked. 
 
 Nelly gave him a look of surprise. 
 
 "You?" she said. 
 
 " We had a very fine breakfast, I assure you. Me, 
 Mr and Mrs Nixon, Miss Anderby, Mr M'Whizzle, 
 and myself." 
 
 " You were invited there to breakfast ? " 
 
 " Mr M'Whizzle and I happened to be casually pass- 
 ing on business," explained Archibald, avoiding her 
 eye. " We were asked to enter, and we entered 
 thereupon. There was straw fruit for breakfast, an 
 extremely eatable fruit. I had a share of it. Do you 
 know the straw fruit?" 
 
 " No, I do not," replied Nelly. 
 
 " There are also two fierce dogs," continued Archi- 
 bald, reminiscently. " They were at their fiercest that 
 morning, but I subdued them." 
 
 " Miss Anderby told me about that," Nelly said in 
 a dry voice. 
 
 "She told you?" exclaimed Archibald, surprised. 
 
 " Oh, yes." 
 
 " You know her, then? " 
 
 " I see her every day," explained Nelly, filling his
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 111 
 
 cup again. " I go to her in the morning to work, 
 helping her with her sewing." 
 
 " I did not know that," muttered Archibald, at once 
 regretting his version of the breakfast. He felt her 
 eye on him, and quailed. 
 
 " She told me quite a different story," said Nelly. 
 " She said that the dogs were very small and not fierce, 
 and that you ran in to help Mr M'Whizzle, not that 
 you were passing casually. Now I wonder which is 
 true." 
 
 Archibald looked as if he could have informed her. 
 Blushing up to the eyes, he gazed tongue-tied out into 
 the pleasant garden with the object of finding a fresh 
 topic of conversation, the present one having suddenly 
 gone stale. 
 
 At the sight of his embarrassment, Nellie gave a 
 delighted giggle. 
 
 " Oh, Mr Podd, Mr Podd ! " she muttered, tolerantly. 
 ..." But I'm sorry Mr M'Whizzle was not bitten." 
 
 "You're sorry?" exclaimed Archibald, finding his 
 tongue. "Why?" 
 
 " I've never seen him," she said, frankly. " But I 
 don't like him. And my mistress does not either. He 
 seems so foolish and conceited." 
 
 " But he is not," declared Archibald, indignant that 
 anyone should think so of his master. " He is a most 
 ingenious ! To illustrate " 
 
 Certainly when he came up that afternoon in search 
 of a camel he had not intended to tell so much of his 
 business. But in order to illustrate the great qualities 
 of his master it had become necessary to do so, and 
 he was not the one to hesitate.
 
 112 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 With an expression of growing amazement on her 
 face, Miss Ryan heard where the missing Old Joke 
 was, and of the ingenious scheme concocted by the 
 Chief of the Secret Police for recovering him. For 
 Archibald, mindful of two falls already that afternoon, 
 restrained a mighty desire to claim at least partial 
 credit for that masterly scheme, and represented him- 
 self merely as an earnest and very capable assistant. 
 
 She was, he gave her to understand, the only person 
 in the secret except the two principals. She was to 
 treat the information given her as confidential. 
 
 " But you must let me tell Miss Anderby," she said, 
 when he had ended. " She will die of laughing." 
 
 " Laughing! " exclaimed the horrified Archibald. 
 
 " It is such such a verree clever plan, so li.ke what 
 I have heard of Mr M'Whizzle," gasped Nelly. 
 
 Her amusement mystified and slightly displeased 
 Archibald, and, Mr and Mrs Ryan coming in soon 
 afterwards from a tea-party at a neighbour's, he made 
 himself ready for departure. 
 
 Mrs Ryan, much darker in complexion than her 
 daughter, was pleasant enough to him, but it was plain 
 from the groom's coldish demeanour that the incident 
 at the restaurant was still rankling, and he would re- 
 ceive no help from that quarter in his search for a 
 camel. Indeed, Ryan stated gruffly enough that such 
 an animal was almost unknown in Singapore, the only 
 one in that city being in the zoological sheds at the 
 Botanical Gardens. 
 
 Archibald walked thoughtfully down the road.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 IT seemed to Archibald that the only thing left for 
 him to do was to crawl back home and confess his 
 failure to execute the first really important commis- 
 sion the Chief of the Secret Police had given him. 
 After the confidence exhibited by his master, this 
 apparent famine of camels in Singapore was very 
 puzzling. Could it be that Mr M'Whizzle, who he 
 had never known before to be mistaken, was mistaken 
 now? Or was it that people generally, grown jealous 
 of the high position which he, Archibald, was attain- 
 ing in the Government service, had entered into a tacit 
 conspiracy to prevent his obtaining a camel? There 
 were such things as boycotts and, now he came to 
 think of it, all those from whom he had tried to buy 
 a camel had worn a suspiciously smiling appearance 
 as though they were participators in some secret joke. 
 They had also said to a man that there were no camels 
 in Singapore, whereas Ryan had admitted that the 
 Botanical Gardens held a specimen. 
 
 The whole business was sufficiently mysterious, 
 enough to make any half-caste, let alone one from the 
 wilds of Borneo, scent treachery. Archibald squared 
 his shoulders and turned up a side lane. He had come 
 to the determination that he would not confess to 
 failure without a final struggle, and that as a pre- 
 11 113
 
 114 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 liminary preparation for this struggle he would repair 
 to the Botanical Gardens himself, to find out with his 
 own eyes exactly what a camel was. 
 
 Except on band nights these Gardens were the one 
 place in Singapore where solitude might be found 
 always. Archibald wandered in the late sunshine 
 through miles of well-kept gravel walks edged with 
 shaven turf, at the back of which stood luxurious 
 thickets of carefully-tended trees, each tree decorated 
 with a large label. He had not known before that 
 there were so many kinds of trees. Some he recog- 
 nized with pleasure as growing in the Borneo forest, 
 but in Singapore their names, according to the labels, 
 were different. He was not surprised. It was an 
 English custom, he knew, to give everything a long 
 name. Before he had been annexed by the mission- 
 aries, he had been called amongst the tribe by a name 
 very much shorter than Ahasuerus Archibald Podd. 
 The name was ' Damit,' which in Malay means ' little 
 one.' His English father had ejaculated it on first 
 seeing him, and, as he was a small-sized infant, the 
 name had stuck. 
 
 Pondering these philological matters, he walked 
 slowly along. A Malay gardener or two passed him, 
 eyeing his damaged straw hat with suspicion, but 
 made no comment. Directed by small finger-posts at 
 every cross-road, he found the zoological sheds with- 
 out difficulty. It was a very small collection, con- 
 taining a porcupine or two he knew these animals, 
 having seen the Dyaks on the Trusan bring them in 
 at night, the dogs, most of them adorned with quills 
 about the region of the nose, following close behind
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 115 
 
 a honey bear, a tiger of dismal appearance, and the 
 camel. 
 
 All the animals except the camel, which, he noted 
 comtemptuously, was labelled camelus dromedarius, 
 probably with the idea of misleading the more ignorant 
 of the public, were in cages with padlocked doors. The 
 camel occupied a shed and yard with a gate secured 
 by an ordinary latch. Evidently it was a tame animal, 
 an animal to be trusted. It looked friendly, if perhaps 
 a trifle aloof. He approached, leant on the fence, and 
 studied it. A marvellous creature with a noble hump, 
 a moist eye and sensitive ever-working nostrils! It 
 seemed to be smelling him. It approached. He drew 
 back hastily, and then, remembering that he was a 
 man and a policeman, stooped, plucked a small bunch 
 of grass, and, with a soothing word or two in Malay, 
 offered it. The camel, bending its proud head, smelt 
 the grass, and his straw hat. It selected the latter, 
 and, sitting down in the middle of the yard, began a 
 leisurely meal. 
 
 Archibald spoke to it in Malay, but it evidently did 
 not understand the language, otherwise it would not 
 have looked so pleased. The smell of hair oil was 
 what tempted the animal, he reflected. Evidently it 
 had been deprived of fats for some time. That he 
 had a legitimate grievance against the authorities be- 
 cause of this camel's action could not be doubted. On 
 the other hand, beside him hung a placard which 
 stated that visitors feeding the animals were liable to 
 prosecution. Plainly he had transgressed the rules. 
 People, let alone policemen, had to proceed cautiously 
 in Singapore.
 
 116 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 Raging inwardly, but feeling very undecided, he 
 watched his hat disappear even to the ribbon. The 
 animal evidently was not very dainty. He remem- 
 bered his master's instructions that food was to be 
 purchased for the camel. If they secured such an 
 animal as this, a purchase of special food would cer- 
 tainly not be necessary. 
 
 Archibald had become fairly certain in his own mind 
 by this time that there were not at any rate many 
 camels in Singapore. Such an animal was too big to 
 be kept inside a house. Kept outside, nobody could 
 have missed seeing one somewhere or other. 
 
 He heard the squeak of a barrow and, looking up, 
 saw a man wheeling one along the gravel path. From 
 an unobtrusive position he watched the man open the 
 gate of the yard, deposit within a load of hay, pat 
 and handle the camel familiarly, and without the 
 slightest sign of fear. 
 
 Pondering all this, Archibald retreated to a still 
 more unobtrusive position behind a disused door at 
 the back of the tiger's cage. From here, later on, he 
 heard sound of the bell that announced the closing 
 of the gardens for the night. From here, trembling 
 and scarcely daring to breathe, he watched a couple 
 of keepers bring a piece of buffalo meat and, opening 
 the door of the cage, fling the tiger his supper. 
 
 They were big Malays, fierce enough, he felt, to 
 have flung him into the cage along with the meat had 
 they found him. No other visitors came after their 
 departure. The tiger's growls grew more and more 
 amiable as the meal proceeded, and at last merged 
 into a sort of comfortable purring.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 117 
 
 The porcupines in their cages rattled and rustled 
 faintly. The head of the camel with its moving jaws 
 was visible in the distance. They were still moving 
 when the short twilight deepened into night. 
 
 It was a dark night that had arrived, but not dark 
 enough for objects to become unrecognizable. The 
 animal that ran over him as he lay behind the door 
 was, he decided, some kind of skunk, a bad kind of 
 skunk. It seemed to be after a snake, and, judging 
 from a hiss and scuffle in the near distance, it at once 
 effected a success. 
 
 Archibald crawled out from behind the door, and 
 arose stiffly. There were swarms of mosquitoes about 
 the silent cages, but he, like the animals, had an 
 almost invulnerable skin. He could see very well in 
 spite of the darkness. He felt at home in it, and 
 strangely free from any tremors. In the tribe, when 
 he was a child, creeping forth at night and stealing 
 other people's buffaloes was a common hobby. It 
 seemed to him that a camel was easier to handle than 
 a buffalo. 
 
 He had decided that he was morally justified in 
 annexing the camel, as it was only by this means that 
 he could take his straw hat home. That the Chief of 
 the Secret Police would approve his conduct he had 
 more than a slight doubt. But no harm could come 
 of that, because, as the camel was being taken from 
 purely just and unselfish motives, it was quite un- 
 necessary to let anyone know where he got it. He 
 opened the gate and went boldly into the yard. 
 
 The animal had ceased munching, and was asleep. 
 He unhooked the halter from the side of the door, and
 
 118 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 hitched it into position. The camel rose unbidden. 
 Evidently it was an animal accustomed to a master 
 who kept late hours. It tamely suffered itself to be 
 led out of its yard and, a tall ghost, followed Archibald 
 through the Gardens. They came to a gate. The 
 night-watchman, in accordance with the rules of his 
 trades-union, was fast asleep. Archibald and the 
 camel, which was now beginning to snort disconcert- 
 ingly, emerged into the pitch-dark road and turned 
 towards the town. 
 
 During the next breathless half-hour, he was called 
 upon to display his skill in woodcraft. The essential 
 was to keep as well out of the light as possible. He 
 accomplished this at first without much difficulty, 
 being aided by fields and open gardens, but as he 
 neared the town bungalows and lamp-posts grew 
 thicker, and detection seemed unavoidable. He had 
 a tale ready for anyone that should question him, that 
 the camel had been suddenly taken ill and was on 
 the way to see a doctor. It was a tale, he recognized, 
 altogether too romantic for belief. 
 
 He hesitated, and then turned down the side lane 
 leading by the Templeton's bungalow. Houses were 
 fewer on that route than on the more direct one, and 
 he might have a better chance. Lights were burning 
 in the Ryan's bungalow, and somebody was playing 
 the piano, but the stables were dark and seemed 
 absolutely deserted. As he passed the big gate some- 
 body crept out of the shadow and accosted him in 
 Dyak. With a gasp of astonishment, he recognized 
 his master. 
 
 The Chief of the Secret Police approached, clanking
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 119 
 
 as he walked. Archibald's eyes, accustomed to the 
 darkness, noted that he wore a gorgeous uniform, and 
 that beside him trailed a sword. It was a blood- 
 thirsty-looking uniform, suitable enough for a large- 
 sized brigand, but on a person of the size and shape 
 of Lochinvar M'Whizzle as incongruous as war-paint 
 on a boiled egg. Its effect it had on the temperament 
 of the wearer was remarkable. His bearing was war- 
 like. His voice had grown ferocious. 
 
 "What is that you've got on the end of that 
 string?" he demanded, peering into the gloom. 
 
 " A camel, sir, so my information leads me to be- 
 lieve," replied Archibald, non-committally, then added : 
 " That is, I mean, sir, that is the lesson I learn from 
 its photographs." 
 
 " Ha ! A camel," muttered M'Whizzle, drawing 
 closer. " One hump only, I observe," he added in a 
 discontented tone. " I hoped you might have got a 
 two-humper. They are so much more comfortable 
 for riding on. However, I suppose you did the best 
 you could. Where did you purchase this one?" 
 
 Archibald coughed and hesitated. 
 
 " He was browsing peacefully when I spotted him, 
 mister," he explained, uneasily. 
 
 "A stray," muttered M'Whizzle. He took his 
 place next to Archibald. " Camels do stray," he went 
 on, " and most of the wild camels, so my encyclo- 
 paedia informs me, are tame ones that have strayed. 
 There must be some Arab encampment in the vicinity. 
 Funny thing I have not been informed about it. Now, 
 quick march, good Podd. We must wend our way 
 homewards."
 
 120 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 They stepped briskly down the road, the camel 
 following. 
 
 " I have been to a function, Podd," explained 
 M'Whizzle. " I decided afterwards to show myself 
 to the various policemen on point duty. It does them 
 good to see that their Chief is on the alert." 
 
 " Yessir," agreed Archibald. He pondered the in- 
 formation. " Every man," he went on, thoughtfully, 
 " is much better for some fun, sir. Did the policemen 
 laugh much ? " 
 
 " Laugh ! " demanded M'Whizzle. " What at? " 
 
 " At seeing you, sir," explained Archibald. 
 
 " I don't understand you, my good fellow," said 
 M'Whizzle in a severe tone. 
 
 Archibald heard his spurs rattle angrily as he 
 marched along, and realizing that in some mysterious 
 manner he had given offence, wisely said nothing. 
 
 They now entered the better-class quarter of the 
 native town. Crowded trams flashed by. Arc lights 
 overcame the dense ground mist, and made the streets 
 almost as light as day. The stream on the footway 
 became thicker, but where in a European city the 
 passage of such a strange animal as a camel would 
 have collected a crowd, here people merely glanced 
 up apathetically as they made their way along. 
 
 At one corner a Sikh policeman carrying a rifle 
 stepped forward, his eyes blazing, as if intending a 
 challenge, but on perceiving the small dignified figure 
 in peaked straw hat and glittering uniform, he retired 
 with an abashed salute. The flashing of M'Whizzle's 
 sword as he drew it to return the salute caused a 
 momentary panic, and a Chinaman ran his ricksha
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 121 
 
 into the camel, who at once let out viciously and tried 
 to bolt. The Chinaman claimed that the flash of the 
 sword had blinded him. The Chief of the Secret 
 Police, having disbursed damage to the extent of fifty 
 cents, gave the order to advance. Without further 
 excitement the procession reached the mouth of the 
 slum. 
 
 It was very dark here in this narrow lane. Pasty, 
 excited faces dimly visible in the badly-lighted shops 
 told the travellers that their passage was observed. 
 Angry voices buzzed. The note of objection grew 
 louder as the small procession crept along the tortuous 
 way. Suddenly M'Whizzle's hat was whisked off. 
 He drew his sword. 
 
 " Keep a sharp lookout, Podd," he hissed. " There 
 is trouble brewing here." 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied the young Eurasian from the 
 gloom, nervously. 
 
 Evidently these people in the slum, fastidious 
 always, objected to the camel. It was not surprising. 
 He did not take to the animal much himself. It had 
 such a superior air. Just now it was holding its head 
 very high, and jerking spasmodically at the rope. 
 Perhaps it, too, was conscious that its presence was 
 objected to by the inhabitants. At this moment, 
 suddenly, like a ship on a wave, it lurched forward 
 and lay down in the darkness. 
 
 Archibald gave a vigorous tug or two at the 
 rope. 
 
 " Mister," he called out in an agonized whisper, and 
 then when he noticed his master was already out of 
 sight, in a louder key, " Mister help ! "
 
 122 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 M'Whizzle came running back, his sword at the 
 ready. Archibald, hastily shrinking, escaped the point 
 by an inch or two only. 
 
 "They've taken my best uniform hat," said 
 M'Whizzle. " There's a nasty murmur about, and 
 altogether I don't like the situation at all. Can't you 
 get the animal up?" 
 
 By another jerk or two at the rope Archibald proved 
 the impossibility of the task. 
 
 " It may have dropped dead," suggested M'Whizzle. 
 " If so, we will abandon it and cut our way through 
 to my house. He bent down and very gingerly 
 felt the animal's ribs. " No, it still breathes," he 
 announced, with what sounded like disappointment 
 in his tone, as he stood erect. " The best plan will be 
 for me to run the gauntlet to my house for assistance 
 while you remain here. If an attack is made, repel it. 
 Don't have any qualms about shedding a little blood 
 if compelled to do so." 
 
 Archibald promised he wouldn't. 
 
 " Good," said M'Whizzle, fiercely. " Make yourself 
 as comfortable as you can, and guard especially against 
 a stab in the back. These people are really angry, 
 and mean business. They'll come up to you as softly 
 as snakes." 
 
 Archibald Podd heard him tiptoe off up the slum, 
 and at once sank down and, carefully arranging his 
 back, leaned heavily against the quietly-heaving body 
 of the camel. 
 
 The discontented murmurs in the shops had now 
 ceased, but the succeeding quiet was even more 
 menacing. As a further precaution against surprise,
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 123 
 
 he took off his white coat and spread it over the 
 camel's back. Having thus insured his life so far as 
 was humanly possible, he became slightly more com- 
 posed. A menacing noise, which in his excitement 
 had sounded to him like something being sharpened 
 on a grindstone, he traced to the camel. He had heard 
 that peaceful munching sound before. 
 
 A moment later there came the measured tramp of 
 feet. The street corner glowed and grew suddenly 
 brilliant. A small posse of Sikh policemen carrying 
 lanterns, and with M'Whizzle at their head, appeared, 
 marching rapidly towards him. The slum again 
 buzzed like an angry hive. Above his head wooden 
 shutters banged open, and heads were craned forward. 
 From scraps of comment that reached him, together 
 with half a pail of water, he gathered that the advent 
 of M'Whizzle's force was keenly resented, and there 
 were likely to be serious trouble. 
 
 He braced himself against the camel, and, happening 
 to glance at its head, noticed with indignation that it 
 was in the act of trying to swallow the last of his 
 master's hat. 
 
 Making a sudden dive, he succeeded in rescuing 
 a piece of the brim, an evidence of guilt which 
 he at once exhibited when the Chief of the 
 Secret Police, together with his bodyguard of Sikhs, 
 arrived. 
 
 M'Whizzle promptly cancelled the orders he had 
 given for searching every house in the slum. He 
 shook his drawn sword threateningly at the camel's 
 nose, but put it hastily into the scabbard on the 
 animal's attempting to seize it with the evident in-
 
 124 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 tention of making a further meal. In obvious disgust, 
 the animal got up and stalked off down the slum, 
 luckily in the direction of home. 
 
 M'Whizzle forbade it being taken into the house, 
 being nervous of his furniture, and ordered it to be 
 tethered in the yard. There was a slight draught 
 there, enough, he said, to give any ordinary camel 
 of the desert pneumonia. But this was no ordinary 
 camel. It was a beast inured to civilization. Its 
 depraved tastes vouched for that. The party left it 
 in the act of exhibiting its depraved taste further by 
 gnawing the green paint off the yard door. 
 
 An animal with such a voracious appetite took a 
 great deal of looking after. Archibald spent a goodly 
 portion of the next two or three days in cutting lalang 
 grass and bearing the bundles home, where the camel 
 disposed of them with annoying rapidity. He also, 
 under M'Whizzle's direction, undertook the difficult 
 task of fitting a saddle to the hump and, in his own 
 opinion, succeeded. 
 
 Every morning he scanned the local paper anxiously 
 for news of the robbery at the Botanical Gardens. 
 He felt surprised and rather suspicious that he found 
 none, until coming suddenly into the yard one after- 
 noon, he found a strange Sikh, in watchman's garb, 
 caressing the camel. 
 
 On finding himself observed, the man approached, 
 fawning. 
 
 " White lord," he said in a timid voice. " I pray 
 you, pardon, O great white lord." 
 
 " I am no lord, no white man." Archibald Podd 
 drew himself up. He perceived at once that the fellow
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 125 
 
 intended flattery. Moreover, it began to strike him 
 that he had seen the man somewhere before. 
 
 " I am guilty," said the man, " but I acknowledge 
 my fault. I am sorry you deny being a white man. 
 This makes my being pardoned a costly matter. See, 
 here is money, O noble Eurasian. Plead thou with 
 thy master that my fate be an easy one." 
 
 " Barest thou then offer me money ! " said Archi- 
 bald, indignantly. " No, I am a policeman, I am no 
 taker of bribes." He expanded his chest, and fixed 
 the Sikh with his eye. 
 
 " Truly thou art as a white man, O uncorruptible," 
 said the Sikh, putting away the money in obvious 
 relief. " Thus have I the more courage to tell my 
 story, certain that thou wilt intercede with thy mighty 
 and mysterious master, the Lord M'Whizzle. Listen, 
 then! I am a watchman of the Botanical Gardens, 
 my duty being to guard carefully the gate at night 
 and see that none enter or depart. But on that even- 
 ing of which thou Jmowest " 
 
 Archibald started guiltily. "What evening?" he 
 muttered. 
 
 " Nay, do not start," entreated the Sikh. " I admit 
 that I had drunk much gin before going on watch 
 that evening because of an inward pain, and that 
 therefore I fell asleep. But Allah will testify that it 
 was not my guilt but a malign fate that induced the 
 Lord M'Whizzle to choose that very evening to make 
 his round of inspection and, finding me asleep, to 
 creep stealthily into the Gardens, take this, the 
 Government camel, away, and thus prove me guilty 
 of negligence."
 
 126 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " But Mr M'Whizzle ! " gasped Archibald. 
 
 " He passed through the streets afterwards, so my 
 comrades have reported, his bearing proud beyond 
 belief, his mighty sword drawn triumphantly, as be- 
 fitted one so successful. And in the face of all this 
 how can I say that the camel hath died, or bring 
 evidence to prove it hath leapt the wall and dis- 
 appeared? Many of my comrades will at my summons 
 appear at the Court, and swear to the truth of any- 
 thing. But can I ask them to swear against the 
 evidence of the mighty Lord M'Whizzle? Therefore 
 I entreat thee in pity's name ! " 
 
 " I will draw the attention of the Government to 
 thy request," said Podd, severely. He drew out his 
 forget-me-not pocket-book, and ostentatiously took a 
 note. " If thou dost not hear further news within 
 the next few months, thou wilt hear in due course. 
 I myself think that thou wilt hear in due course, so 
 disturb not thyself, O watchman." 
 
 He accepted the man's thanks with dignity, and 
 waved him out of the yard. The explanation of how 
 the camel had come to leave the Botanical Gardens 
 had taken his breath away; but the sight of him 
 executing a pas seul a little later proved to that 
 animal that he had soon recovered it.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE country west of Singapore from the sixth to the 
 twenty-fourth milestone belongs to the Rajahs of 
 Tidatau. They cannot sell it, and they are bound to 
 look after it. So by two tests at least they are kings. 
 Their palace or astana is at the city of Tidatau, situ- 
 ated on a small river some seven miles from Singapore. 
 Fifty farther away would have been healthier for such 
 fast livers as the last three Rajahs have turned out 
 to be. To a good car on the big west road seven miles 
 is merely time for a yawn. 
 
 Quadrupeds take longer to make the journey. A 
 good camel might compass the distance in less than 
 an hour, but with an obstinate animal, always anxious 
 to sit down, the journey would certainly take far 
 longer. It was verging on noon when a small party 
 of three, two perspiring men and an irritated camel, 
 arrived at the last milestone before Tidatau. 
 
 The trees and scrub end here, melting into a vast 
 plain of yellow-green lalang grass at the back of which 
 the city, gleaming white amid its bower of palms, 
 spreads out and beckons. Especially does it beckon 
 at noonday when the brazen sun beats down and gives 
 to wayfarers that parched feeling that every wayfarer 
 in the tropics knows. The best hotel, so the guide- 
 books say, is painted pale pink. 
 
 127
 
 128 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 The fair sight before them seemed to breathe fresh 
 energy into the jaded travellers. One, a dark-com- 
 plexioned man in the simple garb of an African negro, 
 walked at the side of the dusty white road, supporting 
 the camel's burden, which appeared to have a tendency 
 to slip round. The other, a small person of venerable 
 aspect, wearing the costume of a mullah, strode 
 doggedly ahead, pulling the unwilling animal after 
 him. 
 
 It had been an extraordinary journey, but the last 
 mile promised to be the most remarkable of all. For 
 now travellers were streaming over the bridge that 
 led from the city, intent on gaining Singapore by 
 dusk- All sorts and kinds of men were moving, 
 Indians, Sikhs, Klings, Chinese, Malays. As they 
 passed, they gazed with strong interest at the camel 
 and its perspiring attendants. There went along a 
 herd of wild-eyed Sak.ai, trotting, strung out by the 
 roadside, furtively glancing at the animal ; there was 
 none like it in the Malay jungle, which they knew 
 from end to end. Clad in blue-cotton rags, their 
 women with babies in baskets on their backs, the men 
 with burdens of rubber and rattans, they moved tire- 
 lessly towards their destination, the produce-market 
 in the Kampong China at Singapore. Then came a 
 hadji dressed in green robe and turban, with a sparse 
 grey beard and a dignified step, as befitted a man who 
 had made the pilgrimage. He saluted the mullah 
 suspiciously, as one of a breed untrustworthy as his 
 own, and looked the camel over with a knowing eye. 
 Here and there groups of Chinese kebuns rested by 
 the dusty roadside. The smoke of their tobacco
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 129 
 
 poisoned the still hot air for yards around them. 
 Squatting near their low yellow baskets of fruit, they 
 shouted insults, laughing loudly. 
 
 " Hai ! Brave man thou art to walk thus. . . . Why 
 dost thou not hit the animal? . . . Look at the old 
 woman in front. . . . That is the black man's wife. . . . 
 Isn't she ugly ! " 
 
 The last couple of remarks seemed to irritate the 
 gentleman in African garb. He stuck his nose in 
 the air and strode on, glaring. 
 
 An Afridi trader with two assistants bearing heavy 
 baskets covered with oil-cloth, stopped in his walk 
 and eyed the trio doubtfully. He seemed inclined to 
 put a question to the hurrying mullah, but a bevy of 
 Malay maidens in gaudy silk swayed out from a side 
 path, and, surrounding him, forced him to show the 
 treasures of lace, embroidery, and tinselled millinery 
 that the baskets contained. 
 
 At the bridge the travellers stood aside to let pass 
 a quickly-moving closed cart. The two milk-white, 
 trotting bullocks drawing it shied at the sight of the 
 camel. The high wheels grazed the parapet. From 
 the swaying silk curtains came forth a torrent of 
 Malay invective. 
 
 " How darest thou let thy aunt walk the earth un- 
 veiled, O African? Are we blind that we can bear 
 such an indignity? Veil her at once or my men shall 
 beat thee to a jelly ! " 
 
 " She is no aunt ! " shouted the man in African dress, 
 indignantly. " Canst not tell man from woman, O 
 wall-eyed, discarded one of the harem? He is a 
 mullah ! A holy man from Tibet ! " 
 i
 
 130 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " Ahai ! " There came a stream of giggles from 
 behind the curtains. " And thou, O perspiring youth, 
 art thou sacred also ? " asked the sharp voice. 
 
 " Not so sacred as the purdah when the woman it 
 veils is withered as thou art," came the retort. 
 
 "Well hit, O son of Egypt!" 
 
 The silken curtains were flung aside, and the face 
 of an oldish Malay lady of high rank showed itself. 
 
 " Marvellous and beautiful ! What a face ! " sneered 
 the African. 
 
 She looked at him, her black eyes flashing merrily. 
 
 " Monkey-tongued," she laughed. " But my coun- 
 tenance does not render the bullocks uneasy, as doth 
 thine." 
 
 " They are used to it, perchance ! " 
 
 " Nor frighten this camel of thine as does that of 
 the holy mullah." 
 
 " Camel ! Thou knowest, then, the name of the 
 animal?" demanded the mullah, turning. 
 
 " Ya, Allah, that do I, speaker of coolie-Malay with 
 an English accent." She eyed him intently. " I too 
 have made the pilgrimage and can sift the wheat from 
 the chaff." 
 
 The mullah, looking slightly confused, turned his 
 back abruptly. 
 
 " We had best move on, good Podd," he called out 
 in Dyak. 
 
 " Yessir," replied the gentleman in African costume. 
 
 Getting the camel under weigh, they scurried across 
 the bridge and into the courtyard of the hotel. 
 
 A camel, resting in the white dust under a shady
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 131 
 
 banyan tree, munched a dog biscuit contentedly. In 
 the dazzling sunlight in front of the long hotel veranda 
 a mullah walked up and down, blowing briskly on a 
 weird reed instrument. The sound had effectually 
 roused the entire hotel. Green sun blinds were raised 
 all along the veranda. From bedroom windows 
 Chinese house servants peeped forth, calling noisily 
 to each other. A gang of Malay syces, frankly amazed, 
 stood at the stable entrance, their mouths wide open. 
 
 Snatches of the excited comment of British tourists 
 floated from the veranda. 
 
 "Ah, look at him, beating the tom-tom with one 
 hand and unloading the camel with the other ! " 
 
 " A Somali, he seems like." 
 
 " Yes, we saw the same troupe two years ago in 
 front of the Galle Face Hotel at Colombo. You 
 remember, Ada?" 
 
 " Perfectly. They don't seem to have changed at 
 all. I never saw the mango trick done better." 
 
 " You have to go to India to see the real mango 
 trick," said a bass voice. " The right men do not get 
 so far south as Colombo. Have you been in India?" 
 
 The paraphernalia of the troupe was now arranged. 
 The African raised the lid of a quaintly-plaited rattan 
 box. Two cobras reared their swollen heads. The 
 African, his eyeballs rolling, shrank back with every 
 symptom of fear. 
 
 " What a splendid actor ! " 
 
 " You remember, Ada, he did just the same in 
 Colombo?" 
 
 With a slightly swaggering gait the mullah 
 approached the box, blowing on his pipe. One snake
 
 132 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 swayed dreamily under the influence of the sound. 
 The other, apparently not of a musical turn, made a 
 hurried attempt to get away. 
 
 The watchful African, amid applause, made a 
 hurried dash, and jammed down the lid of the box. 
 
 " Of course they have their fangs drawn, Ada ! " 
 
 "Do they?" 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 " In India they don't have their fangs drawn. You 
 ought to go to India, Miss Jones." 
 
 " Look, he's trying again ! " 
 
 This time it was the mullah himself that opened the 
 box. To his obvious astonishment both snakes, with- 
 out showing any hesitation whatever, glided out on 
 to the ground and made off in different directions. 
 The mullah grabbed one by the tail, but released his 
 hold immediately as the serpent turned to strike, and, 
 snatching up his pipe, began a spasmodic melody. 
 It appeared to the onlookers that the music merely 
 had the effect of making the escaped captives move 
 faster. They both disappeared down separate drains 
 with extreme celerity. It was noticed that the mullah, 
 with an air of some dejection, placed a bit of brick 
 in front of each drain. 
 
 " A marvellous bit of acting, Ada ! He's better than 
 when we saw him in Colombo." 
 
 " Much better. All these Orientals are born actors." 
 
 " Acting ! " chimed in a youthful voice. " I don't 
 see much acting about it. He's lost the snakes." 
 
 " But don't you see," gurgled the knowing voice, 
 " that all that is by-play to divert our attention from 
 the mango trick. While we've been looking at the
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 133 
 
 snakes, the dark-coloured fellow has been quietly 
 busy." 
 
 A carpet of oriental pattern had been spread in the 
 dusty courtyard. The African, with a confident grin, 
 held up a mango seed, shiny and obviously the genuine 
 article. He placed it on the mat in sight of all. With 
 his back towards them he scattered earth and spread 
 a dirty cloth over the seed. The spectators on the 
 veranda watched the centre of the cloth rise mysteri- 
 ously. The African whisked it off and, with a wider 
 grin than ever, pointed to a mango plant some eight 
 inches long. 
 
 The tremendous burst of applause made him salaam 
 low. A shower of silver bent him lower still. It was 
 unfortunate that as he stooped a large mango seed 
 should have slid out of the solitary pocket in his white 
 linen African blouse. The mullah, coming back 
 wearily from his music, noticed it as it lay, a glittering 
 cynosure in the dust, and pocketed it with the air of 
 a man who intends to say something later. He then 
 turned to the mango plant which, to everybody's 
 astonishment, had suddenly collapsed. 
 
 A feeling began to spread that this mango trick 
 had been performed with reprehensible dishonesty, 
 and that the shower of silver had been, to say the 
 least, premature. The conjurors had, in fact, gone off 
 since they were in Colombo. A whisper that the 
 mullah was an expert palmist and would now sit un- 
 der the banyan tree, and would welcome a few clients, 
 was coldly received. Those on the veranda went back 
 to their long-chairs. A blight settled on the courtyard. 
 
 Archibald Podd, greatly dejected, squatted beside
 
 134 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 his master under the banyan tree, and listened to a 
 low indignant voice telling him in three languages 
 what he ought to think of himself. He felt he de- 
 served it all. If only he had not dropped that mango 
 seed! If only he had wound up the mango plant 
 properly ! 
 
 " But they are such slippery, slidy things, sir, those 
 seeds," he mumbled in excuse. 
 
 " I want service, not excuses," hissed Lochinvar 
 M'Whizzle. He lunged out viciously at a large blue- 
 bottle which, after basking a while on the camel's 
 nose, was busy seeking a fresh resting-place on his 
 own. " The whole success of our undertaking de- 
 pended on skilful preliminary deception. And you go 
 and drop that seed out of your pocket! Why a a 
 waiter would have known better ! " 
 
 " I'm very sorry, Mr M'Whizzle," pleaded Archibald. 
 
 His chief gave him a look of undiluted contempt. 
 
 " lake the tom-tom," he directed, " and try to beat 
 up a person or so wishing to know their fortunes. 
 Go through the whole town if necessary. I will re- 
 main here under the banyan. You know what to say ?" 
 
 Archibald nodded dismally, moving off into the 
 sunlight. 
 
 " Yabba Dullah, holy one of Kurdistan ! " (pong- 
 pong-pong-pong) " Yabba Dullah, seer into futurity ! 
 Sits he now in Tidatau ! Flock ye to him and learn 
 your fates ! Yabba Dullah, Yabba Dullah ! " (Pong- 
 pong-pong-pong). 
 
 The clear notes in the vernacular floated through 
 the still air of the courtyard. Underneath the banyan 
 the fanatic mullah paced to and fro, telling his beads,
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 135 
 
 unconscious apparently of the advertisement he was 
 getting. 
 
 A Chinese butler guarding the hotel fell back, 
 pocketing a dollar. The veranda with its palms and 
 cool iron tables lay open. 
 
 " Yabba Dullah ! Flock ye to him and learn your 
 fates ! Yabba Dullah." 
 
 The African, conscious of unfriendly glances from 
 the numerous occupants of long-chairs, walked 
 through the hotel feeling depressed. Not a customer 
 to be had here, that was evident ! From an end table 
 in an alcove somebody beckoned him. He recognized 
 that dark face under a turbash and, his spirits at once 
 rising, pattered across the intervening mat-covered 
 floor. 
 
 "Mr Podd of Borneo?" 
 
 "You know me, then, Hadji Mahomet?' queried 
 the delighted young detective, in a whisper. " Hush, 
 I am not to be spoken about. I am in my disguises." 
 
 " I never forget a face," returned the Malay, gravely. 
 " And yours is a very haunting face." 
 
 Archibald nodded. 
 
 " A lot of chaps have told me that they can never 
 forget my face," he said with an air of pride. " But, 
 oh, Mr Mahomet, I am very pleased to see you. You 
 find us in the midst of strenuous activity." 
 
 " You have new wor.k, I perceive," smiled the hadji. 
 " Assistant to a fakir ! An interesting job ! Nothing 
 stodgy about it ! " 
 
 " No, no, dear-r lady," smiled Archibald. " Not 
 new wor.k," he continued, in a tone of some import- 
 ance. " I am still Mr M'Whizzle's confident clerk.
 
 136 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 You behold me here merely as a side line. But," he 
 added, smiling mysteriously, "a verree peculiar side 
 line yes, I assure you." 
 
 " You've got your eye on the stolen racehorse," 
 suggested the hadji, with a wink. " I know you 
 'detective fellows. You never let a thing slip. Clever 
 chaps, all of you ! " 
 
 He shook a playful fist at Archibald. 
 
 " If you find the horse, don't mention publicly that 
 it was me who told you where it was," he entreated, 
 with a smile. " I don't want to get into trouble." 
 
 The grinning Archibald gave the required promise. 
 
 " And that disguise of M'Whizzle's as a fakir," went 
 on the hadji, enthusiastically. " It is a most wonder- 
 ful disguise." 
 
 " How did you know it was Mr M'Whizzle ? " de- 
 manded Archibald, amazed at the hadji's penetration. 
 
 " I did not know, but you've just told me," said the 
 hadji, coolly. "Well, salaam, and go with safety. 
 It will not surprise me if you get an invitation from 
 the Palace. They love conjurors up there, I know 
 that, and as for Indian fakirs, well, all the ladies adore 
 them. They say they are Nature's gentlemen in a 
 concentrated form, ha, ha ! " 
 
 " Ha, ha, very good ! " laughed Archibald. " Mr 
 M'Whizzle's form is extremely concentrated, so they 
 will like him muchly. Very good! I go now. Soa 
 long!" 
 
 The interview with the Malay had helped him to 
 recover his self-esteem, a task which he was usually 
 able to perform single-handed ; and he carried himself 
 with dignity as he walked off the veranda. Across
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 137 
 
 the stretch of blinding courtyard the mullah was vis- 
 ible. Even to the dazzled eyes of his assistant, it was 
 apparent that an event of a hopeful nature had just 
 occurred under the banyan tree. 
 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle had stopped telling his beads, 
 and now stood in an attitude of courteous attention, 
 engaged in conversation with a middle-aged Malay, 
 whose rich sarong and ornamental kris told of noble 
 birth. 
 
 Archibald sped across the courtyard. 
 
 " This is he of whom I spo.ke," said M'Whizzle in 
 Malay, waving his hand in introduction. " My African 
 slave Noodali." 
 
 The young detective stopped short in his walk, and 
 bestowed on his master an offended glare. But after 
 a moment's struggle, better feeling triumphed, and he 
 forewent the intention of handing the newcomer one 
 of his visiting cards with which even then he was 
 well provided to prove he was a respectable member 
 of the Eurasian community and neither slave nor 
 African. 
 
 " He is clean in his habits and will not pollute the 
 habitation of your most high mistress the Ranee," 
 went on the Chief of the Secret Police, with a graceful 
 wave of the hand. " Rescued as a child by me, Yabba 
 Dullah, from the gutter of the bazaar at Cairo, and 
 carefully tended, he has at length grown into budding 
 manhood and acquired a fair intelligence considering 
 his low origin." 
 
 The African glared, and coughed protesting. 
 
 " He may also then ascend to make his obeisance 
 before the Fount of Delight and gaze shivering at the
 
 138 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 Hidden Perfection of Beauty?" inquired the mullah. 
 ..." Haste thou, then, Noodali, O most fortunate of 
 slaves, to make such preparations as shall ensure that 
 no more seconds than necessary shall elapse before 
 we undergo the felicity of prostrating ourselves at 
 the feet of the Morning Star." 
 
 Archibald Podd stared at his master hesitatingly. 
 It was agreed, he .knew, that he was to act the part 
 of an African slave and be called Noodali. But he 
 had certainly not expected that part of their arrange- 
 ment to be so emphasised. And what was going to 
 happen next was beyond him. So far as he gathered, 
 they were to be on the move again towards the feet 
 of the morning star. It sounded a cheerless destina- 
 tion. He would have preferred the Palace if they 
 were not to be allowed to stay for a bit at the hotel, 
 where he felt confident of making a few really jolly 
 friends. 
 
 "Put the stuff on the camel," said M'Whizzle 
 sharply in Dyak, " and don't stand there gaping . . . 
 I have to speak to Noodali in his native tongue," he 
 told the Malay. " He does not yet realize that the 
 Ranee of Tidatau has espied us lowly ones from her 
 high sitting-place and called us thither." 
 
 " Africans are all stupid, O holy Mullah," com- 
 mented the Malay, contemptuously, " though how a 
 man should dwell with so bright a spark of intellect 
 as thou, and not receive from it a glimmer of under- 
 standing passes my comprehension." 
 
 " The bright spark shall receive further lustre from 
 contact with so eminent a messenger as thou art," 
 said M'Whizzle, bowing and smiling.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 139 
 
 It was plain to any eye that he was revelling in his 
 disguise and in the quick interchange of flowery com- 
 pliments and badinage which were, he knew, the 
 common coin of polite intercourse in the East. 
 
 Archibald was puzzled at the number and richness 
 of the figures of speech he heard during the next 
 half-hour. No man could be all the good things Mr 
 M'Whizzle said that Malay messenger was, and sur- 
 vive. But the stolid Malay bore up and walked 
 gravely before them down the broad avenues of 
 Tidatau, not to all appearances unduly elevated at 
 being told he was the Star of the Harem, and the 
 Light of the Council Chamber, and the most savage 
 fighter on the country side. Archibald, looking up 
 once from his care of the camel's lop-sided burden, 
 fancied indeed that he saw a slightly bored expression 
 flit over the man's impassive countenance M'Whizzle 
 was telling him that his wife was sleepless as a weasel 
 and wise as a mouse deer but it surely must have 
 been merely fancy. 
 
 Ahead, down a beautifully-kept avenue of fan- 
 shaped traveller palms, the white, carved gate of the 
 Palace was visible. He approached it timidly, but his 
 heart was beating high.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE gateway of the Palace towered above the party. 
 Its topmost pinnacle seemed to pierce the sky. Under 
 that tremendous archway even their soft footsteps 
 echoed gently. Beyond, the flagged paving merged 
 into a gravelled road. They found themselves in a 
 garden full of orange and mangosteen trees, at the 
 end of which a smaller archway gave entrance to a 
 low white building. Beyond was a small paved court- 
 yard partly covered by an elaborately-carved wooden 
 roof and surrounded by latticed, gilded verandas. 
 
 A Malay servant came forward and, taking the 
 halter from Lochinvar M'Whizzle, tethered the camel 
 to a ring on the marble basin of the small fountain 
 that played in the centre of the courtyard. The 
 animal, greedily quenching its thirst, was seized with 
 a sudden fit of coughing. With a violent effort it 
 dislodged the goldfish it had sucked up, and, looking 
 a shade upset, was at once led off by the Malay 
 attendant and retethered near the archway. 
 
 Archibald Podd gazed vengefully after it. He felt 
 annoyed that any animal should exhibit such behaviour 
 in such a place. It was as if his party were not worthy 
 of their surroundings. He picked up the fish as it lay t 
 flapping in the sunlight, returned it to the water, and 
 anxiously studied his master, eager to be encouraged 
 to administer correction to the camel with the nearest 
 
 140
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 141 
 
 walking-stick if such a thing were available. But there 
 was nothing to be gathered from that impassive face. 
 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle had already squatted on the 
 small carpet provided, and was paying the Malay 
 messenger another series of compliments. He treated 
 the behaviour of the camel with silent contempt, and re- 
 ferred to the unfortunate fish merely to point out that 
 whereas ordinary fish were mud-coloured, here in this 
 paradise they had naturally taken on the hue of gold. 
 
 " It is nothing, O Mullah," responded the stolid 
 Malay. " They are gold-coloured when we buy them 
 in Singapore for a few cents each." 
 
 " Were I a fish I should indeed be glad to come here 
 for nothing," returned the mullah, inclining his head 
 courteously. " Under the eyes of the pearls of the 
 harem who, I take it, are crowded behind yonder 
 lattices, life in yonder fountain would be one long 
 dream of delight." 
 
 " True, O Mullah," murmured the Malay " And 
 
 now, I pray thee, holy one, repose thy aged limbs and 
 suffer for once in thy ascetic life the joy of gratified 
 longing to possess thee. Know that within the Palace 
 a repast has been prepared for thee. Rice and flesh 
 mingled after the law of the Prophet, and mixed with 
 the condiments and flowers which delight thy country- 
 men is even now being borne towards us by the hands 
 of a slave Behold!" 
 
 He pointed to the archway, in which a gigantic 
 negro had appeared carrying a steaming basin. 
 
 The negro advanced and, salaaming low, laid the 
 basin beside M'Whizzle. He took off the silver cover 
 with a flourish. A horrible odour at once filled the air.
 
 142 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " Truly the magnificent hospitality of His Highness 
 the Rajah is something to be always remembered 
 by his humble slave," said M'Whizzle, casting an 
 uncertain glance at the dish. He smiled. Archibald 
 Podd noted without surprise that the smile was forced. 
 
 "Thine eyes glint, O Mullah, at the sight of thy 
 native dish," said the Malay in a respectful tone. " I 
 pray thee, no ceremony. Thou hast fasted long." 
 
 The mullah's eyes were wavering. He seemed to 
 hesitate. " My favourite dish ? " he muttered. " I fail 
 to grasp thy meaning, O hospitable one." 
 
 "Knowest thou not the cous-cous, holy Mullah? 
 The dish of those wild beings of the desert from which 
 thou hast sprung, of those who like thee have made 
 the pilgrimage ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, the cous-cous," cried the mullah, with an 
 air of enlightenment. "The cous-cous! Delightful I 
 . . . But meat and drink are as nothing to a mullah, 
 as thou knowest, O messenger," he added. " A 
 mouthful of pure water and a handful of pulse suffice 
 for his requirements. The appetites of the flesh are 
 for such as us no longer a burden." 
 
 The Malay nodded understandingly. 
 
 " But behold how the mouth of my African slave 
 watereth," continued the mullah, waving an enthusi- 
 astic hand in the direction of Podd. ..." See, he can 
 scarce restrain himself. So is the solicitude of thy 
 noble master for the poor, O messenger, not without 
 marked appreciation." 
 
 The indignant Archibald took out a pocket-hand- 
 kerchief and wiped his mouth hastily. He was 
 beginning to hate all this lying.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 143 
 
 " Come, Noodali," said his master gently. " Assume 
 without timidity a sitting posture at the feet of me, 
 thy owner, and partake of the munificent hospitality 
 of His Highness." 
 
 " I don't want any, mister," whispered the African 
 slave in Dyak. " I'm not hungry." 
 
 " Sit down at once," snapped M'Whizzle in the 
 same language. " Remember, to refuse this hospi- 
 tality would be a deadly insult. It might lead to 
 bloodshed. . . . The African slave says," he continued 
 to the Malay with an uneasy grin, " that surprise at 
 the overwhelming condescension of thy master has 
 robbed him of appetite. . . . Noodali, eat ! " 
 
 Archibald Podd sat down beside the bowl, and 
 taking a handful of the mess put it into his mouth in 
 Malay fashion, skilfully using his thumb. The taste of 
 the stuff was paralysing. He had never imagined that 
 any food was like this. He would have spat the mouth- 
 ful out, but, as a society man, he knew that those 
 sort of manners would not do at court. He was aware 
 also that bright eyes were gazing at him through the 
 lattices. Before the bringing of the cous-cous breaths 
 of Eastern perfume had filled the courtyard. Even 
 now he could hear the rustle of silk, low bursts of 
 conversation, a continuous ripple of laughter. He 
 swallowed his mouthful with determination, and, exer- 
 cising all his self-control, took another. 
 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle, encouraged by his action, 
 tasted the dish himself. His jaws moved rapidly, and 
 he nodded several times at the Malay to signify his 
 delighted appreciation. 
 
 " Don't stop eating, Podd," he whispered in Dyak.
 
 144 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 "African slaves have a reputation for greed. You must 
 eat this cous-cous with gusto or arouse suspicion." 
 
 " I am eating it with disgusto, sir," said Archibald. 
 " I do not know this makan. But it is the most dis- 
 gusting possible. Its cook, if I may say so, ought to 
 be punished severely." 
 
 " To those who know the cous-cous, it is a great 
 delicacy," explained his master. " But one has to be 
 brought up to it. ... Good Podd, summon all your 
 courage and persevere. However hard it may be, we 
 must finish the dish to show appreciation of the com- 
 pliment the Rajah of Tidtatau has paid us. Otherwise 
 the consequences may be severe. Remember, all 
 Africans delight in cous-cous. And you are an African 
 slave." 
 
 "They must be queer peoples, these Africans," 
 commented Archibald. " Had I known all, I would 
 never have been an African." 
 
 He paused politely, anxious that his master should 
 not miss his turn of dipping his hand in the bowl. 
 He had noticed him exhibit a tendency to do so. 
 
 " It is a dish of great sustaining power," went on 
 M'Whizzle. " The Arabs eat a meal of it before going 
 on a journey, say across the desert of Sahara. They 
 do not want another for several days. Don't stop. 
 You'll find the taste grows on you." 
 
 Thus encouraged, Archibald gallantly finished the 
 remainder of the dish. It was one of the few meals he 
 did not feel the better for, but his master was in a 
 worse case if a pale-green complexion were any 
 symptom. There was some talk of performing the 
 mango trick, but the drinking of coffee, prepared, the
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 145 
 
 Malay assured them, after the recipe of a late Sultan 
 of Morocco, effectually put a stop to the carrying out 
 of this idea. 
 
 Archibald retired to a corner and devoted himself 
 to the task of trying to feel better, while his master, 
 still on the mat, twisted from side to side in a vain 
 quest after comfort. Apparently the inmates of the 
 surrounding verandas took the mullah for an acrobat, 
 and appreciated those struggles as much as they would 
 have done any mango trick. Their laughter and ex- 
 cited chattering sounded incessantly during the next 
 hour. After that the mullah grew easier, and, as the 
 air became cooler, silence descended on the courtyard. 
 
 About sunset the stolid Malay, who had withdrawn 
 after coffee, came back. Archibald heard him ask how 
 the mullah's indigestion was, saw his master give a 
 reassuring nod, and then, after further whispered talk 
 with the man, get up and beckon in true Malay fashion 
 by protruding his lips and twisting them from side to 
 side. 
 
 The African slave followed the pair through another 
 doorway which gave entrance to a dimly-lighted 
 chamber of some six feet square, the end of which 
 was covered entirely by a yellow embroidered curtain. 
 
 " Noodali," said his master, motioning him to 
 approach. 
 
 " Yessir." 
 
 A heavy frown from M'Whizzle recalled him to 
 reality. He was, he remembered, an African slave. 
 
 " I am the servant of my master," he remarked in 
 Malay. 
 
 It seemed an obvious thing to say, but it was the 
 K
 
 146 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 best he could do at the moment. His master nodded 
 encouragingly. 
 
 " Noodali," he said, lifting his hand. " Hear and 
 tremble." 
 
 The young Eurasian was executing a shiver with 
 great determination when, looking up, he noticed a glint 
 of a smile on the Malay's face. He stopped at once. 
 
 " Noodali," said his master, impressively. " Behind 
 that curtain reclines Her Highness Ranee of Tidatau, 
 Pearl of Delight, Peri of Wisdom. Follow me, then, 
 in obeisance." 
 
 Archibald, after the mullah, sank on his knees and 
 touched the floor thrice with his forehead 
 
 " Peramba. Peramba. Peramba," said the mullah 
 in a loud, reverential voice. 
 
 The messenger spoke in gutteral Malay. 
 
 " Men say, O Presence, that this holy man from 
 India is skilled in foretelling the future by a diligent 
 reading of the palm of the hand, and at thy command 
 I have guided him hither." 
 
 The mullah bowed to the floor again. The curtain 
 shook slightly. 
 
 " Deign then, Presence," continued the Malay, " that 
 the hands of those to whom thy permission is given 
 be now exhibited." 
 
 There was a short pause, a faint giggling behind 
 the curtain. A pair of slender, smooth hands with 
 polished nails and finger-tips stained with henna were 
 gently thrust forward. 
 
 The mullah made a motion to clasp them, but was 
 restrained by a tap on the shoulder. " Nay, holy man," 
 said the Malay, gravely. " A touch of those for such
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 147 
 
 as thou is dangerous, liable to induce feelings of less 
 holiness." 
 
 " Truly said, O wise one of the Palace." The mullah 
 turned to the inspection of the hands. 
 
 " This hand tells me this maiden is beautiful," he 
 said slowly, after a while. " Also she is young. A 
 maid of high descent and, needless to say, of peerless 
 virtue. Her past has been happy, her future will be 
 happy also, so I read from the stars er She is very 
 much interested just now in a horse a horse of yellow 
 colour Can she say that what I read on her palm is 
 not truth?" 
 
 The mullah paused, and fixed a mesmeric glare on 
 the curtain, without result. 
 
 " The maiden is wondrous fair," he went on in a 
 slightly disappointed voice. " She will marry early, 
 have many children, and her husband will be er 
 wondrous fair." 
 
 At that moment, amid intense giggling, the curtains 
 parted and the owner of the hands was revealed for 
 an instant a boy of fourteen elaborately dressed in 
 green silk. The curtains closed. 
 
 The mullah got up on his knees, and glanced wrath- 
 fully about him. 
 
 " Misfortune on these women," he muttered to the 
 Malay. " Is my holiness, then, no protection from 
 their joking?" 
 
 " They have misunderstood, O Mullah," said the 
 Malay in a soothing tone. " Pardon their ignorance, 
 O Mullah, and deign to enlighten them a little further 
 from thy wisdom. See, another pair of hands come 
 forth. Methinks that this time they are a woman's."
 
 148 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " They are the hands of Citi Ajar," came in a high 
 voice from behind the curtain. 
 
 " Citi Ajar," whispered the Malay, salaaming. " Tire 
 woman to Her Highness." 
 
 The mullah bent over the hands with puckered brow. 
 
 " This lady is wondrous fair," he said, thoughtfully, 
 after a while. " She is tire woman to Her Highness. 
 She is wondrous beautiful she is er very worried 
 just now about a horse, a yellow horse. Speaks the 
 mullah not truth, O Citi?" 
 
 There was a long pause, and the sound of whisper- 
 ing came from behind the trembling curtain. At last 
 a voice said : 
 
 " It is true, O holy man." 
 
 " I thought it was," said the mullah, a delighted 
 expression on his face. He shot a triumphant side- 
 glance at the gaping Archibald. " Ever since I entered 
 the precincts of the Palace," he went on in solemn and 
 menacing tones, " the shadow of a yellow horse has 
 dulled my spirits. It threatens misfortune to this 
 country of Tidatau." 
 
 A chorus of dismayed ' Oh's ' came from behind the 
 curtain. 
 
 "This horse has the evil eye," said the mullah, 
 warming to his work. " An evil spirit has entered 
 into it. Disaster and death will attend thee, O Citi 
 Ajar, unless thou seek my help to exorcise this spirit. 
 Where is this ill-omened horse? Tell this to me, and 
 I may be able to avert the fate that overshadows all." 
 
 The curtains shook again as another whispered con- 
 sultation took place behind them. 
 
 " That I am not permitted to say," said the voice.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 149 
 
 " Suffice that it is harboured sufficiently close to the 
 Palace for thee, holy man, to feel its malign influence." 
 
 This was the longest speech the voice had so far 
 made. The excited Archibald looked hard at the cur- 
 tain. Somewhere he had certainly heard that voice 
 before. 
 
 " Surely from the holy man, skilled as he is at 
 divination, the whereabouts of this malignant horse 
 cannot be concealed?" suggested the voice, delicately. 
 
 Archibald scowled at the curtain. The people 
 behind it were certainly most irritating. All these 
 evil spirits were brooding over them, and yet they 
 would not give anything away. It was enough, he felt, 
 to make anyone throw up the job in disgust. But he 
 was little prepared for the bit of marvellous acting 
 which followed. After an undecided pause, the mullah 
 jumped to his feet and gazed before him as if in a 
 trance. For fully a minute he remained thus, and 
 then he began slowly to twirl. Faster and faster he 
 twirled, his features twisted, his eyes starting from 
 their sockets. Suddenly he fell flat on the ground, 
 raised himself on one elbow, and pointing, whispered 
 frenziedly: 
 
 " I see the horse ! " 
 
 " Where, O most holy mullah ? " asked the voice in 
 an awed tone. 
 
 " In a field. It is standing! " 
 
 At this reply Archibald Podd felt slightly dis- 
 appointed. He had really thought for an instant that 
 his wonderful master was possessed of the gift of 
 second sight. Anyone could have seen a horse in a 
 field! He could himself!
 
 150 MR PODD OF! BORNEO 
 
 " Which field? " asked the voice. 
 
 The mullah hesitated. 
 
 " It is a field," he said jerkily. ..." I see it I see 
 
 its fences I see its gates I see its grass I see " 
 
 He paused, and glared at the curtain, as though about 
 to tear its secrets from it. 
 
 " But where ? " tittered the voice. 
 
 The mullah scowled. 
 
 " The influence has deserted me," he said in an irri- 
 tated voice. ..." But to-night all will be revealed ! 
 . . . Now, O Light of the Astana, dwell in safety. I 
 depart." 
 
 He whispered a few words to the Malay, who 
 nodded. Signing to Podd, he abruptly left the 
 chamber and walked back to the courtyard. 
 
 His confident bearing had disappeared; but later, 
 as they trudged townwards to seek a lodging for 
 the night, his conversation proved that his hope of 
 the visit being rewarded was still strong. The animal 
 they were after was certainly in Tidatau, he said. 
 The woman in the harem had admitted that. She 
 also as good as admitted that the animal was in a field. 
 The obvious thing to do, he pointed out, was to search 
 all the fields in Tidatau. 
 
 With praiseworthy zeal, he ordered Archibald to 
 begin the search at once. Only the approach of dark- 
 ness induced him to put it off till next day, and turn 
 townwards in order to obtain accommodation for the 
 night. And even then he blamed Podd bitterly for 
 not including a bull's-eye lantern in the baggage. 
 
 There were many houses in the town of Tidatau, 
 but the inhabitants to a man made it plain that while
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 151 
 
 they reverenced mullahs they did not care for them 
 as lodgers. The inquirers gathered that another mullah 
 had once visited the town, and had departed by 
 night, taking with him all his hostess's gold ornaments 
 and leaving nothing in exchange except a bad repu- 
 tation. 
 
 It seemed, however, that there was an empty shed 
 half a mile down the river, which had been set aside 
 by the Rajah for lodging holy men. The way to this 
 shed was pointed out with the utmost cordiality by 
 the inhabitants, and at nightfall M'Whizzle, Archibald, 
 and the camel found themselves trudging along it 
 wearily. 
 
 It was about the time when Malaya takes its evening 
 meal. The roads were deserted, but through the 
 twilight of coconut groves came the faint chatter of 
 voices as the families of rural Tidatau sat on the rough 
 verandas of their huts and exchanged the news of 
 the day. In the veiled sky above bats were flitting. 
 The rustle of their wings as they wheeled close to the 
 heads of the travellers sounded like the swish of the 
 skirts of a ghost. Tidatau was noted for its ghosts, 
 and here close to the Palace and the cemetery was 
 about the place where obviously they might be met 
 with. 
 
 Archibald had seen such awful saunterers more than 
 once in Borneo, and, like most of his fellows, he simply 
 detested ghosts. The sight of them was liable to 
 bring on hot shivers and cold sweats, and, when there 
 were said to be many about, he always made a point 
 of staying at home. He looked shudderingly at the 
 small hardwood crosses that showed now here and
 
 152 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 there by the road side. The white rags tied to some 
 of them glimmered wanly. The snorting of the camel 
 sounded louder and more spasmodic, it seemed to him. 
 Perhaps it too had a fluttering heart. With a swerve 
 and a quick beat of wings a nightjar wheeled down 
 and sat in the white road in front, squawking loudly. 
 It was enough to make the best of men catch at his 
 breath. When the next moment there floated out of 
 the trees beside them a slim figure in white, he made 
 not the slightest attempt to suppress a squeal of 
 astonishment and fear. 
 
 The camel stopped dead. 
 
 " Who goes there ? " cried M'Whizzle in a loud, 
 shaky voice. 
 
 " O holy man, it is I." 
 
 The camel turned round, struggling to get free. 
 Terrified by the apparition, it wished to bolt. But 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle kept a firm grip of the rope. 
 
 " Who art thou, man or devil ? Speak ! " he called 
 out. 
 
 The camel backed, snorting as the figure came 
 closer. Archibald Podd recognized the boy at the 
 Palace. He gasped with relief. 
 
 " You little beast ; you deserve a good lathering for 
 jumping out like that and frightening our camel," said 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle in an undertone, much irritated. 
 " I've a good mind to give you one ! Hit him, Podd ! " 
 
 The young Eurasian said quickly that he would not 
 soil his fingers with such trash. He was not afraid, 
 for the boy was smaller than he, but he knew the 
 danger of touching an inmate of a Rajah's harem. 
 
 " Forgive me, O holy mullah," piped the boy, bend-
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 153 
 
 ing. " But my wish to speak with thee and seek thy 
 intercession is urgent. It is at the bidding of my 
 relations that I come thus through the darkness, to 
 seek aid from the magic of the mighty one. Judge 
 then the urgency." 
 
 "Nay, do not fear, youth," said Lochinvar M'Whizzle 
 in a gentler voice. " There is no treachery here, 
 Noodali, as we suspected," he remarked, turning to 
 the African slave. 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 "Thou would'st have speech with me, fair youth ? " 
 inquired the mullah in his sweetest tone. Archibald 
 smiled within. It was at such moments, he knew, 
 that his master was most dangerous. 
 
 " O Mullah," said the youth, timidly. " Thou hast 
 left us of the Palace sorely troubled. The women in 
 the house are full of fear. One or two weep already." 
 
 " Indeed ! " murmured the holy man in a tone of 
 much concern. " Noodali, take thou the camel." He 
 handed Podd the halter, and motioned the youth to 
 the grass border of the road. " Come closer," he said 
 encouragingly. " Tell to me the troubles of thy house- 
 hold. Never shall it be said that a holy mullah from 
 the Indian land refused to succour the deserving. But 
 if art undeserving or deceitful, then beware." 
 
 The young Malay shivered visibly as the mullah 
 waved a menacing forefinger before his nose. 
 
 "Who am I that I should deceive the holy one?" 
 he stammered. " A youth merely. Holy Mullah ! 
 Listen ! What thou divinest to-day in the Palace is 
 true. We have a yellow horse, a horse on which my 
 father the Rajah sets great store. On many horses
 
 154 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 has my father set store, but when the racing comes 
 he loses much money and in our household grief 
 reigns. My father and my mother, the Ranee, who 
 had already from a bullock cart beheld thy entrance 
 to the town, as we discovered, although they kept the 
 fact hidden, laughed loud when thou saidest that ill- 
 luck had come with this yellow horse. But we others 
 of the Palace knew better. We know and believe thy 
 
 prophecies to be true, O holy one. And so " he 
 
 hesitated. 
 
 " And so," prompted M'Whizzle, in dulcet tones. 
 
 " And so we have held a secret meeting, from which 
 I come without loss of time to ask that thou, O holy 
 Mullah, intercede with the spirits brooding over us 
 that the harm which threatens through the yellow 
 horse may yet escape our house." 
 
 The grinning Archibald listened intently, with ex- 
 pectation of hearing his master say at once that he 
 would be pleased to render every assistance in the 
 direction required. But instead he heard, with mount- 
 ing admiration for the talents of the great Chief of 
 the Secret Police, a conversation in which the young 
 Malay was skilfully persuaded to reveal the exact 
 whereabouts of the missing racehorse, and finally to 
 offer to lead them to it at once. 
 
 " But we must be undisturbed," objected the mullah. 
 " Solitude and secrecy are necessary in order that the 
 spell that I shall weave about the yellow horse prove 
 effective, and danger to the Rajah and his household 
 be averted." 
 
 The boy, who had begun to lead the way up a dark 
 side-path, paused and explained that to carry out such
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 155 
 
 a request would not be difficult, as at that hour all 
 the grooms were away at their evening meal, and the 
 stables would be deserted. 
 
 " It is well," said Lochinvar M'Whizzle, gravely. 
 He went over to his young assistant and grasped the 
 halter. 
 
 " I will take the camel, Podd," he whispered in 
 English. " You bring up the rear." 
 
 " Bring up what sir? " asked Archibald. He looked 
 about him, eager to oblige. " Nothing to bring up, 
 sir," he whispered. Everything's on the camel." 
 
 " You walk last," said M'Whizzle, testily. " That's 
 what I mean. . . . And keep a sharp lookout." 
 
 The young Eurasian nodded intelligently. 
 
 " We're not likely to be attacked," reflected 
 M'Whizzle, " but if we are, it will be in the rear. I 
 give you the post of danger, you see, Podd." 
 
 " Yessir," muttered Archibald. ..." I suppose we 
 couldn't consider putting the camel behind the rear, 
 could we, sir?" 
 
 " Obey orders," snapped M'Whizzle, turning to 
 follow the Malay boy. 
 
 Archibald walked meditatively behind the camel. 
 His thoughts were not very clear. But it was plain 
 to him that, thanks to luck (or was it to the marvellous 
 skill of his master?), they were about to achieve an 
 undreamt-of success. And it was a success due really 
 to his own enterprise, for had he not entered that 
 expensive restaurant he would never have met Hadji 
 Mahomet. The glass of ale had cost him fifty cents. 
 He resolved to point this out to his master later when 
 he had time.
 
 156 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 The path through the wood was dark. He stumbled 
 often over projecting roots of trees. When the party 
 emerged into a pine-apple plantation the going became 
 easier. They passed through a swing-gate and uphill 
 across a couple of grass fields. At the top of the ridge 
 they saw the lights of the Palace of Tidatau shining 
 in the valley close below them. And near at hand 
 was a long line of buildings. 
 
 The Malay boy stopped and whispered to M'Whizzle, 
 who at once held up a hand for caution. In dead 
 silence the party crawled on through the gloom. A 
 dog barked. The young Malay spoke to it soothingly. 
 They entered the stable-yard through a high gate, and 
 in another moment Archibald Podd found himself 
 gazing through a doorway with all his eyes at the 
 long-sought, yellow horse. 
 
 It occupied a stall in the stable next to the gate, 
 a very much better stable, he saw at once, than that 
 oi Mr Templeton. The walls were tiled, the floor of 
 new blue-brick. It was no wonder, he thought, that 
 Old Joke looked comfortable and contented with his 
 new surroundings. In the division between the stalls 
 a lamp burned, but not so dimly that he could fail to 
 perceive the beauty of the harness hanging from the 
 walls of the empty stall, and the well-kept appearance 
 of the horse's coat. 
 
 " It is well, youth," said Lochinvar M'Whizzle, after 
 a sharp glance round. 
 
 The boy nodded timidly. 
 
 "And now to work without loss of time . . . Noodali ! 
 Stay where thou art." 
 
 The young clerk started, and bowed.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 157 
 
 "Thou, youth," continued M'Whizzle, without any; 
 apparent hesitation, "must aid. Art willing ?" 
 
 " If the task the holy one sets me is not too hard." 
 
 " It is a task entirely within the compass of a brave 
 youth such as thou ! " said the mullah, gently. " To 
 be brief; this camel of mine has a strange influence 
 upon me and upon the spirits. Oftentimes its influ- 
 ence with those brooding in the air has a malign effect 
 on my magic. This duty therefore is allotted to thee. 
 Take thou the camel and, entering the farthermost 
 empty stable, shut fast the door, and remain there 
 until my slave, Noodali, gives the signal. Thus by 
 thy aid my magic shall have full play." 
 
 The boy hesitated. 
 
 " Come now, brave one," bantered the mullah. "Art 
 afraid?" 
 
 It was wonderful to see him coax that stupid-looking 
 boy along with the camel into an empty stall. Why 
 it was the victim suspected nothing was equally won- 
 derful. But Archibald in his association with the great 
 Chief of the Secret Police had almost got to the pitch 
 of wondering at nothing. 
 
 He heard the stable door shut and then, actually, 
 the click of a bolt shot home. 
 
 His master came back, and without a word entered 
 and unhitched the horse. The bricks rang under its 
 hoofs as they led it into the darkness. The dog rushed 
 out barking. There was nobody now to soothe it into 
 quiet. Archibald tried, with half a brick, but un- 
 successfully. 
 
 They made a bee-line for the river, and crossed it 
 at the ford. The horse gave them no trouble. And
 
 158 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 then on by an unfrequented by-road to Singapore! 
 It seemed no time at all to Archibald before, torn, 
 wet, breathless, perspiring, and above all very joyous, 
 he was leading the missing racehorse through their 
 alley within a few steps of home. 
 
 They were in the yard, safe ! He tethered his charge 
 to the post which but a few hours before had the 
 honour of holding captive the camel, and rushed in- 
 doors nearly bursting with pride at his achievement 
 to receive hearty congratulations of which so far 
 there had been a marked scarcity. 
 
 Alas, his master was at the telephone, speaking, 
 obviously,to Mr Templeton. What was that he was 
 saying? The young confidential clerk stopped, stiff 
 with indignation at the ingratitude of it. 
 
 " Yes, I'm exceedingly pleased that I have been so 
 successful, Mr Templeton Oh, it's kind of you to say 
 so Eh, what's that? Oh, no, I had no trouble, never 
 seem to when I look after an affair myself, funnily 
 enough. One can't trust subordinates Managed the 
 job single-handed Of course I had an Eurasian ser- 
 vant with me Rather in the way? Well, I don't 
 know You know what these Eurasians are Old 
 Joke, yes, it's very well looks a little plumper per- 
 haps You don't think its late for me to come up, 
 then? Come as I am? Very well, my dear Mr 
 Templeton, I will start at once." 
 
 It seemed to Archibald that about this speech there 
 was too much ' I.' Drooping dejectedly, he turned 
 away in silence.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 MAUD ANDERBY'S first recollection was of a little girl 
 who lived in a state of perspiration in a great red- 
 brick hotel. The hotel stood by itself in the middle 
 of a green that was always baked yellow by the sun, 
 facing a never-resting, glittering sea. Black shining 
 crows flew about unceasingly, perching in the coconut 
 palms. They and the dark-skinned ayahs were the 
 only inhabitants of the hotel garden in the morning 
 except for other little girls like herself. Later on, 
 about tiffin time, rickshas and gharries would stream 
 along the glaring white road that led from town, and 
 out of them would step beautiful sahibs, all of them 
 certainly very rich, because they dressed so finely in 
 spotless white and wore wonderful topees, which her 
 ayah said came from Belait. 
 
 Her mother knew all these wonderful white men, 
 and later she got to know many of them herself. 
 They used to bring her toys and sweeties from town ; 
 and when she climbed on their knees to thank them 
 she was very careful not to dirty their beautiful white 
 clothes with her dusty shoes, because if she did they 
 would never bring her any more sweeties, so her 
 mother said. Her mother used to sit in her chair on 
 the veranda after tiffin, smiling and looking very 
 beautiful. She was never vexed when sahibs, even 
 
 159
 
 160 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 strange sahibs, caught Maud in their arms, lifted her, 
 admired her pretty frocks, and petted her. 
 
 Once, indeed, she spoke rather sharply. This was 
 when Maud, noticing one guest who her mother had 
 already said looked lonely sit down away from the 
 jolly party on the veranda, and stare seawards, ran 
 over and, clambering on his knee, asked him to play 
 with her. Her mother rose, apologized, and took her 
 away, but she was not really angry; and when they 
 got to the bedroom she kissed her. 
 
 It seemed from what her ayah said that this sahib 
 was a merchant, and so rich that ordinary people 
 hardly dared speak to him. And the sahib was not 
 angry with her himself. He told her afterwards that 
 it was the best day's work she had ever done, and 
 bought her a beautiful pearl necklace. When he had 
 fastened it round her neck, he turned to her mother 
 with a smile, and drew a red morocco case from his 
 pocket in which was a ring that glittered like a wave 
 in the sun. And without a word he took her mother's 
 left hand and slipped the ring on her third finger. 
 
 She remembered her mother saying : " What a 
 handsome ring. It's too good. You should not have 
 spent all that money." 
 
 After that there was a wedding, with a lot of laugh- 
 ing people and kissing and hand-shaking. She had a 
 new dress, and was allowed to sit up in the evening 
 on the veranda, where nobody took much notice of 
 her, and she watched the moon glinting through the 
 coconut palms. That was what she remembered of 
 her mother's second wedding. 
 
 Next morning they drove to the steamer which took
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 161 
 
 them to England, where, after a while, she said good- 
 bye to her ayah and went to boarding school, thus, in 
 the usual manner, ending for a time her Eastern life. 
 
 During those school days mother and step-father 
 never visited England. They wrote often, affectionate 
 letters enough. Maud's memory pictured them to 
 her as perfect people of enormous proportions. But 
 when she joined them at Singapore she found them 
 strangely shrunken and, to her disappointment, very 
 ordinary. This first impression intensified as the 
 weeks rolled on. Mr Templeton had aged and grown 
 irritable. On her mother's features, too, the years 
 had left their story. And she was stout and peevish. 
 Both parents had grown to think alike in many things. 
 From most of their opinions Maud differed, but she 
 said but little. 
 
 When Lochinvar M'Whizzle, calling shortly after 
 her arrival, was put forward as a perfect specimen of 
 manhood, she said but little. Even when hints had 
 been thrown out that with due encouragement the 
 perfect specimen might be hers for the asking, she 
 said but little. Her attitude towards such a desirable 
 parti was enough to irritate any parents. 
 
 One's children usually are a disappointing race, 
 never more so than when they deliberately flout 
 arrangements made for their benefit. Mr Templeton, 
 having married for love, devoutly believed a marriage 
 of convenience the only possible arrangement. His 
 wife agreed with him. Having experienced such a 
 marriage twice, she felt she ought to know. And there 
 was a man like Lochinvar M'Whizzle being actually 
 kept waiting! 
 
 L
 
 162 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 The constant devotion that M'Whizzle showed! 
 His going, at great inconvenience, to find Old Joke! 
 What did she care, the irritating girl? She even 
 looked, her mother declared, sorry when Lochinvar 
 rang up on the telephone to announce that the horse 
 was found. 
 
 Maud never enjoyed a half-hour less than the one 
 spent in listening quietly while her parents, roused 
 by the tidings over the telephone, gave her their views. 
 What her mother said did not matter. But her step- 
 father was different. He was a man, she knew, who 
 would never wish anything for her but the best. And 
 his heart seemed in this business. M'Whizzle, every- 
 thing that was good before, had in this last venture 
 proved himself to be that best thing of all in his eyes, 
 a ' good sport/ 
 
 " And when you get a good sport," said Mr Temple- 
 ton, his voice shaking with emotion, " take my advice, 
 and don't cast him aside without serious thought. 
 For, as I've proved in sixty years of life, there's no 
 good sport that isn't at bottom a good man." 
 
 It was not in Maud to look at that kind red face 
 and moist blue eyes and show anger. Her reply was 
 non-committal, and seemed to satisfy him. After- 
 wards, on the veranda, it struck her that she had been 
 too non-committal. 
 
 She heard the gharry arrive, caught a glimpse of 
 the descending mullah, and hurried off to bed. It was 
 only under the stress of her mother's pressure that she 
 put on her dress again and came downstairs. They 
 were in the drawing-room, she had understood from 
 her mother. She entered, and tried too late to with-
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 163 
 
 draw. The mullah was there alone and, judging from 
 his triumphant smile, was evidently expecting her. 
 He rose from near the door-mat, and shut the door 
 with determination. His pale face gave him the 
 appearance of one whose hour had come. 
 
 " They told you I was here? " he asked in a tender 
 voice. 
 
 Emitting a well-modulated exclamation of surprise, 
 Maud sat on a small chair. 
 
 "What, another disguise?" 
 
 " Didn't you know me, Miss Anderby ? " asked the 
 Chief of the Secret Police, looking pleased. " That is 
 flattering. And yet," he added, coming close and 
 squatting Indian fashion on the floor beside her, " I 
 am not certain whether I am pleased or not." 
 
 "No?" 
 
 " You see," he returned, " Whatever my disguise, I 
 should like you to recognize me." 
 
 " We all recognize you, Mr M'Whizzle," she re- 
 plied in a gracious voice. " The whole of Singapore 
 does. Your talent is unique in Malaya." 
 
 " I merely do my duty," he said, bowing modestly. 
 
 " You bring genius to your task," she declared. 
 
 " The greatest of my rewards," he murmured, bow- 
 ing again, " is to hear those sweet lips say so." 
 
 He was becoming romantic ! Maud, to her astonish- 
 ment, found herself laughing inwardly. She looked 
 at a picture opposite. It was a view of the Galle Face. 
 Many were the young men she had met there and 
 elsewhere. Looking back through the years, she de- 
 cided she could remember not one who in any way 
 approached the small gentleman who squatted beside
 
 164 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 her for singularity. His conceit was absolutely 
 appalling. She had already given him a fairly big 
 dose of flattery. How much could he really swallow? 
 She decided to find out. It would be amusing, any- 
 how. 
 
 Glancing downwards, she perceived that he had 
 caught sight of a long mirror near him, and was 
 happily occupied in studying his own reflection. 
 
 " I agree with you perfectly," she said in a solemn 
 tone. 
 
 The Chief of the Secret Police broke off his inspec- 
 tion and gazed up. He smiled. 
 
 "You agree?" he murmured, puzzled. 
 
 " You are the beau ideal of a mullah," said Maud. 
 
 " You think so ? " His face lighted up. " I was look- 
 ing to see if I could really improve on the disguise." 
 
 " And you decided? " 
 
 " That I could not," said M'Whizzle, simply. 
 
 " You certainly could not," agreed Maud, with 
 emphasis. " You are a mullah. Every time I look at 
 you a spasm of fear seizes me. I have to say firmly to 
 myself, ' It's Mr M'Whizzle, and not the late Mahdi.' " 
 
 " I hope you'll never be afraid of me, Miss Anderby," 
 murmured the Chief of the Secret Police in a tender 
 tone. 
 
 He moved closer. It was coming ! By the look on 
 his face she knew it was coming! And all she was 
 wondering now was how he would do it. 
 
 " Miss Anderby," he said impressively. " Mau 
 Miss Anderby ! . . . You have no doubt wondered often 
 why I come so frequently to this house and to no 
 other in Singapore?"
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 165 
 
 " Me? . . . I've spent days at it, to be candid." 
 The mullah's face brightened. He rose to his knees. 
 " Even mullahs have their weaknesses," he said, 
 smiling playfully. " Ma er Miss Anderby, I too 
 have mine." 
 
 " Impossible ! " declared Maud, stifling a laugh. 
 " You are overstrained, probably by the terrible adven- 
 ture you have just been through. It was splendid. 
 But your nerve has gone for the moment. You are 
 not yourself. I can't imagine you to have any weak- 
 nesses when you are your usual self ! " 
 
 "Oh yes, I have. Can you wonder? There is one 
 I must confess to. A serious weakness ! And it con- 
 cerns you." He laid a hand on the arm of the small 
 chair. " Please don't think of me always as a high 
 official, Chief of the Secret Police. Think of young 
 Lochinvar who rode out of the west, and who loves " 
 " And who brought back the racehorse," broke in 
 Maud, quickly. 
 
 " Yes," said Lochinvar, drawing closer still to her 
 chair, and throwing out his chest. " I've brought back 
 the racehorse. I'd bring back a thousand to win such 
 a guerdon. Ma Miss Anderby, you know what I'm 
 going to ask ! You know, and I can read your answer 
 
 in your eyes. Will you " 
 
 " One moment," cried Maud, getting rather alarmed. 
 She raised her hand. " Think well before you speak, 
 before you ruin the greatest career that Singapore has 
 ever known ! " 
 
 " I have thought it all out," Lochinvar assured her 
 eagerly. " You will not interfere with my career in 
 the least, I assure you."
 
 166 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " No great and adventurous career can be tied to 
 a woman and remain great," said Maud, solemnly. 
 " It may remain adventurous." 
 
 " Mine can, I think," he urged. 
 
 " Yours can, Mr M'Whizzle, with the secrets en- 
 trusted to you by the Government as Chief of the 
 Secret Police?" 
 
 " My wife should never know them." 
 
 " For my part, I would never tolerate any husband 
 whose every secret I did not share," said Maud in her 
 most savage voice. " Not for one instant." 
 
 The mullah looked at her in some consternation. 
 
 " Some secrets I should never be able to share," 
 he muttered. 
 
 "Then that would mean want of confidence and 
 unhappiness." 
 
 "You think so?" 
 
 " I was never more certain of anything," said Maud, 
 smiting the arm of her chair with emphasis. 
 
 The mullah, obviously astonished at such an ex- 
 hibition of violence from superficially the calmest 
 girl in Singapore, started back. 
 
 " And there are heaps of other reasons why you 
 should not marry," continued Maud, quickly. " You 
 go out in the evening. Your wife insists on knowing 
 where you've been. That's jealousy ! She suspects you. 
 You've naturally been in a low native quarter pursu- 
 ing your investigations. Your wife won't let you sit 
 down to dinner until disinfected. You are suddenly 
 sent for at midnight. Your wife has hysteria. She's 
 afraid to be left alone. You cannot answer the sum- 
 mons. The local opium dens know you no more. You
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 167 
 
 move into a bungalow at Tanglin, your house in the 
 slum being too malarial for your wife. Once in 
 Tanglin you have to entertain. You become the centre 
 of a whirl of feverish gaiety. You get to like it." 
 
 " I never should," said M'Whizzle, emphatically. 
 
 " You would ! You would no longer be Lochinvar 
 M'Whizzle, you would be one of a partnership known 
 as the M'Whizzles. You'd grow fond of good living, 
 grow fat, elderly-- " 
 
 " Miss Anderby 1 " The Chief of the Secret Police 
 stared at her, horrified. 
 
 " Napoleon Buonaparte grew fat and elderly after he 
 married," pointed out Maud, ruthlessly. " You would 
 grow fat and elderly too. I know you would. I've 
 an instinct. Women often have, haven't they?" 
 
 M'Whizzle nodded dismally. 
 
 " There would be moments in the midst of all this 
 gaiety when you would sit apart, head on hand, think- 
 ing over the days that were gone for ever, thinking 
 over what might have been. Your wife would see 
 this. Remorse for having ruined your career would 
 fill her. She would plunge more than ever into the 
 fever of gaiety. She might she might take to 
 drink!" 
 
 Maud, ending in a whisper, leant forward in her 
 chair, and gazed in her suitor's horror-struck eyes. 
 
 " And you would wish me," she asked slowly, " to 
 undertake the ruin of such a great career?" 
 
 "I thought," faltered the mullah, "that I might 
 take the opportunity of discussing " 
 
 " You would never have thought of that unless im- 
 strung," said Maud, with conviction. " In the cold
 
 168 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 clear moments of ordinary existence we women are 
 but a trifle to men such as you." 
 
 " Miss Anderby," remonstrated Lochinvar, " I can 
 assure you not at all." 
 
 " You pass us, little candles by the wayside," said 
 Maud, her rapturous gaze on the ceiling, " lighting 
 you on your road to fame. You march on firmly, your 
 eyes fixed on your star. It beckons you ever onward." 
 
 " Yes," said M'Whizzle, rapturously. " It's true ! " 
 
 " ' Light hands cling to the bridle rein,' " quoted 
 Maud, softly. " ' Slipping the spur from the booted 
 heel. Tcnderest voices cry " Turn again." Red lips 
 tarnish the scabbarded steel. High hopes faint on a 
 warm hearth stone, He travels the fastest who travels 
 alone! ' . . . And you ask me to take that part? Is it 
 fair to you? Is it fair to me, on whom might fall in 
 after years the reproach of having ruined a great 
 career?" 
 
 M'Whizzle looked at her hesitatingly. A tinge of 
 relief showed on his face. 
 
 " Miss Anderby," he said hoarsely, " your unselfish- 
 ness makes me ashamed No, it is not fair." 
 
 " Thank you," said Maud in her best emotional tone. 
 
 " Your beauty and goodness led me astray," ex- 
 plained the mullah in an agitated voice. " You have 
 
 shown me the true course. ... It is a hard course " 
 
 He faltered. 
 
 " But you'll tread it," cried Maud, hastily, " like- 
 like the great-souled creature that you know yourself 
 to be. Promise me that, Mr M'Whizzle ! '" 
 
 " I I will." 
 
 " You've made me a proud woman to-night," said
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 169 
 
 Maud, who had a vague idea that this was the right 
 sentence to wind up with. 
 
 He managed to grasp her hand, with the object of 
 putting it to his lips; but instead she squeezed his 
 fingers vigorously, at the same time rising. 
 
 " The best of talks has to come to an end," she 
 sighed. " We must go. They'll wonder what has 
 become of us. We understand each other perfectly 
 now?" 
 
 M'Whizzle said they did. He repeated his remark 
 in answer to the earnest inquiry of Mrs Templeton 
 a little later. She took it for granted that they were 
 engaged. On proceeding to congratulate them, she 
 was surprised to be told by Maud, backed by 
 M'Whizzle, that such was not the case. But there 
 evidently was some secret between them, judging 
 from the smiles they gave each other. Mrs Templeton 
 resolved to tackle her daughter about it later. Mean- 
 while, she accepted, on behalf of all, the suitor's invi- 
 tation to breakfast next morning to celebrate the 
 handing back of the racehorse Old Joke.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 ARCHIBALD woke next morning to find that the day 
 of rest he had promised himself was not yet. Sum- 
 moned early, he went to the bedroom and found his 
 master squatting on his native string bed arrayed in 
 black silk Chinese sleeping trousers and a muslin 
 dressing-jacket. A cup of Mocha coffee and a Java 
 cigarette lay on a small carved table by the bedside 
 untouched. 
 
 The Chief of the Secret Police looked tired and a 
 shade melancholy; but the great brain behind those 
 small black eyes was in good working order, and the 
 number of jobs Archibald was given to do before 
 breakfast proved to him once again what a marvellous 
 organizer he had for a master. 
 
 The work, however, promised to set a final seal on 
 their mutual glory. Archibald did not spare himself 
 that morning. Through the dark gloomy house he 
 buzzed to and fro, busy as a blue-bottle fly. By 
 breakfast time he had succeeded in rousing the Chinese 
 servants to such a pitch of irritation that they pounced 
 on him in a body and turned him out of the kitchen, 
 whither he had come to demand on behalf of his 
 master further news of how the shark's fin cutlets 
 were progressing. 
 
 It was irritating that a confidential clerk should be 
 
 170
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 171 
 
 treated thus by a parcel of cheeky servants, but 
 Archibald, conscious that most of this ebullition of 
 ill-feeling was due to envy, resisted an impulse to 
 report the matter to headquarters, and retired medi- 
 tatively to the backyard. 
 
 The horse was still there. It, too, seemed in a bad 
 temper that morning. It made a curious noise which 
 he thought sounded like braying, shivered all over, 
 and, lifting its head, looked at him evilly. The recep- 
 tion dampened him. 
 
 " Old Joke/' he cooed, advancing gingerly with hand 
 outstretched, " Old Joke good f ellow-w ! " 
 
 He retired, and came back presently holding a piece 
 of sugar-cane between thumb and forefinger. This 
 time his advances were more successful, the affection- 
 ate animal even showing signs of wanting part of his 
 hand as a souvenir. 
 
 He retreated to a corner of the yard, and squatted 
 on the ground in meditation. All preparations were 
 now complete. Breakfast had been laid for a dozen. 
 He himself with Mr Ryan, the groom, were to be 
 present at it. He wondered if Nelly, too, would come. 
 For her to be there as witness of his glory would be 
 fitting. 
 
 There was a loud knock at the front door. He ran 
 in. They had come. They were filing one by one 
 into the ante-room, Mr Templeton, his lady, the young 
 missie, and behind them, the groom and Nelly. He 
 could scarcely restrain his excitement at the sight of 
 her. But he did restrain it, clutching the curtain of 
 the ante-chamber and peeping through. There they 
 were, all of them, waiting about uncertainly. Pres-
 
 172 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 ently in strode his master, dressed, not as a humble 
 mullah now, but in short red coat, green trousers, with 
 a purple turban on his head and a yellow sarong round 
 his waist. He looked the picture of a Malay sultan 
 on a small scale. From the girdled sarong projected 
 the carved handle of a short kris. He no longer 
 salaamed low in the manner of a beggar, but his bow 
 was curt and royal, as befitted a successful Chief of 
 the Secret Police. He glanced round him, Archibald 
 saw, disdainfully. 
 
 " Be seated, please," he said, with a motion of his 
 jewelled right hand. 
 
 The party stumbled towards the line of cushions by 
 the wall. It was plain to Archibald that they were 
 vastly impressed, and indeed felt awkward and out of 
 place in the company of that oriental splendour. 
 Nelly, it seemed to him, was the only one who sat 
 down gracefully. In the curtained room there was 
 suificient light to make the features of all visible, and 
 hers looked to him the handsomest and most animated. 
 The expression of the other girl, Miss Anderby, 
 seemed listless, while that of the ex-jockey, who had 
 brought with him saddle and bridle to ride the race- 
 horse home, indicated merely intense disgust. 
 
 The Chief of the Secret Police rose from his purple 
 cushion. 
 
 " To you all," he said in a dignified voice, " and 
 especially to that star at whose feet I remain abased, 
 in safety come, and in safety depart ! " 
 
 Amid an impressive silence he sat down again, and 
 touched a silver gong. Two Chinese servants at once 
 entered and flung back the window curtains. Sunlight
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 173 
 
 streamed in, flooding the apartment. A servant 
 walked noiselessly across the floor and opened wide 
 a door. 
 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle clapped his hands loudly. 
 On receipt of the signal Archibald Podd rushed into 
 the yard, and although the astonished racehorse 
 showed symptoms of interfering, seized it by the 
 halter and led it prancing into the ante-room. 
 
 He stood before the audience, his eyes flashing, a 
 grin of intense triumph on his tawny face. 
 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle rose, a slight smile playing 
 about his features. 
 
 " Your missing racehorse, Mr Templeton," he re- 
 marked in an unconcerned voice. 
 
 The young confidential clerk, his face absolutely 
 radiant, turned and waited for the broken words of 
 gratitude that should now fall from the elderly 
 merchant's lips. 
 
 He noted with growing astonishment that none did 
 fall. 
 
 " Your missing racehorse, Old Joke," said 
 M'Whizzle again, in a louder key. 
 
 But still the old gentleman continued to stare in 
 silence. A slight but most disturbing sound arose 
 from a corner of the room. Some disrespectful person, 
 it looked like Nelly, was tittering. Archibald threw 
 an indignant glance in her direction. 
 
 " Your missing racehorse, Mr Templeton ! " said 
 M'Whizzle once more. This time a tone in his voice 
 betrayed visible signs of irritation at the merchant's 
 lack of demonstrativeness. 
 
 " It's not my racehorse ! " snapped Mr Templeton.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE dead silence that ensued was almost too tense 
 to be borne. Archibald Podd, his hand still clasping 
 the bridle, took an impulsive step forward and stood, 
 trembling with surprise and disappointment, waiting 
 for somebody to say something. He felt that he could 
 not wait long. 
 
 " Not your racehorse ! " gasped the Chief of the 
 Secret Police. " But it must be your racehorse." 
 
 " It is his racehorse, sir, I jknow it," cried Archibald 
 Podd in great excitement. " It's of the same yellow 
 colour, I know it ; it has the same face, I know it also ; 
 and when it smiles at me, it smiles just the same as 
 did Old Joke." 
 
 " It's not even a horse," said the merchant, angrily. 
 
 " Not a horse ! " ejaculated M'Whizzle. He laughed. 
 " Now, my dear Mr Templeton ! This is no time for 
 joking!" 
 
 " It iss a horse, sir," insisted the indignant Archi- 
 bald. He stepped a pace forward. " I may be an 
 Eurasian, sir, but I am willing at any time to take my 
 bible oath that this animal is a horse. I have seen 
 more than one of the species in Borneo, and I cannot 
 be misleaded! I have studied their appearances and 
 their habits, I have read of them in books, and have 
 seen many of their pictures, and I can assure you all, 
 ladies and gentlemen, that this is a real horse ! " 
 
 174
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 175 
 
 He waved his free arm and rolled his eyes with 
 excitement, but so far kept his head as to give a 
 glance at Nelly to see how his behaviour was impress- 
 ing her. He noted with surprise that she appeared 
 intensely amused. 
 
 " This animal is not a horse," said Mr Templeton, 
 firmly. 
 
 His master also, Archibald saw, was behaving with 
 great patience. 
 
 " If you will .kindly tell me what this animal is 
 then ? " he heard him ask the merchant in slightly 
 disdainful tones. 
 
 " A mare, sir," said Mr Templeton, brusquely. 
 
 It was apparent from the ejaculation his master gave 
 vent to that the reply had not quite taken his breath 
 away. 
 
 " And more than that, sir," chimed in Ryan from 
 his corner. " If I'm not very much mistaken, it is 
 the chestnut filly Bintang, belonging to the Rajah of 
 Tidatau, and the second favourite for the Singapore 
 Derby. 
 
 " What?" cried M'Whizzle, in a high-pitched voice. 
 "What?" 
 
 Archibald was nearly bursting with excitement. 
 Plainly his master was losing his head. He himself 
 must come to the rescue. 
 
 " It is a horse," he cried loudly. " First you call it 
 a mare, now you call it a fillet. But it is a horse." 
 
 " It's not, sonny," said Ryan, coming over to him. 
 " It's a filly." 
 
 " But Mr Templeton has just said it is a mare ! " 
 cried Archibald fiercely. " You are deceiving us, sir."
 
 176 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " So it is a mare," returned Ryan. " In a manner 
 of speaking." 
 
 " And pray, what kind of animal is a mare, Mr 
 Ryan ? " sneered Archibald politely, but incredulously. 
 " You must think we're perfect fools, we policemen ! " 
 
 "A mare? You'll kill me yet, Podd," laughed the 
 groom. " A mare's a lady horse. Now you know." 
 
 " Oah ! " 
 
 An expression of disappointed enlightenment took 
 possession of the young Eurasian's features. He eyed 
 the groom gloomily. 
 
 " A she-horse ! Then this animal we have here un- 
 der discussion is not Old Joke?" 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 " It is a perfect stranger," muttered Archibald, in 
 a tone of deep disappointment. He threw an irritated 
 glance at the animal. " Oh, Mr Ryan," he went on, 
 " if you could only realize how carefully I tended this 
 horse fillet, I mean thinking it was an old friend, 
 how I feeded it always, and would have brushed its 
 coat but for the uncertain attitude of its hind legs, 
 you would unnerstan' my immense disgust at this 
 horse I mean fillet for being what it is." 
 
 His abashed glance swept the room. It was enough 
 to make anyone weep, this disappointment. And 
 apparently all were ready to laugh at him. Nelly, 
 too, had laughed at him. Now she was talking to 
 Miss Anderby. Did she blame him? Had she no 
 sympathy with the plight in which he and his master 
 found themselves? She looked up. Not a hint! He 
 ground his teeth as he stood there loosely holding the 
 halter. He heard his master talking eagerly to the
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 177 
 
 merchant, trying to explain, without much success 
 apparently, how it all had happened. 
 
 " You gave me no particulars as to the sex of the 
 animal," he was pointing out. " I knew, of course, 
 that it was chestnut in colour." 
 
 "And what else did you know?" demanded Mr 
 Templeton. 
 
 "I I had private information," hesitated M'Whizzle. 
 " My man, Podd, for one thing, told me " 
 
 Archibald started, and threw a suspicious glance at 
 the pair. Was he to be blamed for the failure, then? 
 It seemed hardly fair. He looked round to try and 
 gather what the others thought. Nobody was now 
 taking the slightest notice of him. They had risen 
 and were preparing to go. They would not hear, it 
 seemed, of stopping for the Chinese breakfast. Mr 
 Templeton said that he had wasted too much time 
 already. He was purple with indignation was that 
 old gentleman. Every time Archibald glanced at him 
 his hue seemed to have grown deeper. 
 
 " I shall certainly get all the blame when they have 
 gone," reflected Archibald. His heart was sinking fast. 
 
 There was a loud rat-tat at the front door, and the 
 sound of angry voices demanding admittance. Some- 
 thing was happening in the hall. The Chief of the 
 Secret Police grew paler than ever. 
 
 A Sikh policeman clattered in, closed the door care- 
 fully behind him, and saluted. 
 
 "Great Tuan, may I speak?" 
 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle nodded. 
 
 " The Rajah of Tidatau and his followers are here 
 at the gate, demanding entrance," said the Sikh in 
 M
 
 178 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 Malay. " They say that a horse has been stolen from 
 their palace and that they have traced it to this house." 
 
 A dead silence spread over the room. 
 
 " Tell them" said M'Whizzle at last, " tell them 
 that that the matter will be investigated by the 
 Government, and that in due course they will be com- 
 municated with." 
 
 " I have already done so, Tuan," said the Sikh. He 
 drew himself up proudly. " Is not thy servant also 
 of the Government, and does not he .know what reply 
 to make to the vile ones without?" 
 
 " It is well," said M'Whizzle. " Go in peace." 
 
 The man saluted, turned to the door, stopped, hesi- 
 tated. 
 
 " But, O great Lord," he objected, " this Rajah is 
 a rude man. He understands not the habits of the 
 Government, and says he is not prepared to wait until 
 communicated with in due course. He says he might 
 be dead before then. He declares the horse is here. 
 He demands it at once, and also the prosecution of 
 the thieves." 
 
 " We shall have to get rid of the horse mare, be- 
 fore they're allowed in," muttered M'Whizzle. He 
 looked at the merchant undecidedly. 
 
 " I think the best plan would be, Mr Templeton," 
 he ventured, " that your man Ryan should saddle it 
 and take it out by the back way to your stable. We 
 can decide later what to do with it." 
 
 " I will not touch it with a pair of tongs," said the 
 merchant, firmly. "Is it likely?" 
 
 M'Whizzle, looking gloomier than ever, as.ked for 
 a loan of the saddle and bridle.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 179 
 
 It seemed at first that these also were to be denied 
 him, but on Ryan pointing out that they had not the 
 Templeton monogram stamped on them, the merchant 
 gave way. 
 
 " Thank you," said M'Whizzle. " Podd, I under- 
 stand from you that you know all about horses ! " 
 
 Archibald nodded uncertainly. He was not quite 
 sure that he did, but recollected having talked a lot 
 on the subject to his master, as well as to some of the 
 others present. The circumstance made it difficult for 
 a man of honour to hang back. 
 
 "Very well," said M'Whizzle. "Take the animal 
 into the yard, saddle and bridle it, and ride it back 
 unobserved to Tidatau." 
 
 "What, me, Mr M'Whizzle?" 
 
 " Obey orders," snapped the Chief of the Secret 
 Police, apparently glad to adopt again his old tone. 
 
 " Yessir." 
 
 Archibald, realizing that he had after all heard 
 aright, allowed the groom to put saddle and bridle 
 in his free arm, and disappeared, leading the animal 
 after him. 
 
 The Sikh constable came back and stated the Rajah 
 of Tidatau still refused to depart, and requested an 
 immediate interview. Another non-committal reply 
 was despatched to him, and the company waited in 
 silence to give Podd and the horse time to get clear 
 away. 
 
 Sounds of stamping, due presumably to an unwilling 
 horse being saddled, penetrated the ante-room. Maud, 
 after a while, whispered to Nelly who, nodding, dis- 
 appeared through the door that led to the yard. A
 
 180 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 few minutes later the sound of hoofs ceased. But the 
 noise in the other direction grew louder. There was 
 evidently serious trouble brewing on the front door 
 step. The Sikh constable dashed in again. 
 
 " Lord of the Detectives ! " he called out excitedly, 
 The " 
 
 " Thy manners ? " said M'Whizzle, in a cold voice. 
 . . . "That's better," he added, as the Sikh raised his 
 hand to the salute. " I never let them presume," he 
 whispered to Mr Templeton, " even in the most 
 desperate situations." 
 
 The merchant gave a growl of disgust. 
 
 " The Rajah and his men are forcing the entrance," 
 said the Sikh. 
 
 "Then resist with all thy strength," directed the 
 Chief of the Secret Police in a determined voice. 
 
 The Sikh constable explained that he had already 
 done that, but that now the attacking party had re- 
 newed their assault armed with tins of beef-dripping, 
 and his men were afraid of defilement 
 
 " We must dash to their assistance," exclaimed 
 M'Whizzle, getting up. " Once the Rajah's people 
 begin to throw beef-dripping about, they'll drive all 
 my Sikhs off the premises." 
 
 " That's your look-out," snapped the merchant. 
 Don't you move from your seat, either, Ryan," he 
 shouted, as the groom rose. 
 
 " I was only goin' to bolt the door leading to the 
 yard," explained the ex-jockey. " I don't want my 
 daughter mixed up with all these savages." 
 
 " Bolt the door leading to the yard, constable," 
 ordered M'Whizzle in ringing tones. " Stand on
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 181 
 
 guard before it, and run through anyone who attempts 
 to pass with your bayonet. They can apply to me 
 personally for compensation afterwards. Now, all 
 you men, keep your heads and guard the women and 
 children. I am going into the front hall to save you." 
 
 Drawing his kris, he darted across the floor, and, 
 stumbling near the door, stabbed a velvet cushion 
 through the exact centre. He picked himself up, breath- 
 ing hard, and was engaged in attempting to recover his 
 weapon, the point of which had apparently become 
 hopelessly jammed between the floor boards, when, 
 with a series of yells and a patter of naked feet, a 
 number of excited Malays, each armed with a small 
 tin of beef-dripping, dashed into the apartment. 
 
 That they expected to find the missing horse there 
 was evident from the cries of rage they immediately 
 emitted. The Sikh constable, however, seemed to 
 provide an agreeable substitute. They proceeded to 
 defile him thoroughly from a safe distance with 
 accurately-thrown handfuls of beef-dripping. 
 
 The man defended himself as well as he could with 
 his bayonet, but being unsuccessful in catching much 
 beef-dripping on its point, threw this weapon away 
 in disgust, and, picking up a bamboo mat, held it 
 before him. M'Whizzle, with a final desperate tug, 
 rescued his kris from the grip of the crac.k, rapidly 
 disengaged the cushion from the crooked blade, and 
 rushed to the rescue. Standing in an attitude of 
 defiance, he received a well-aimed tin with the centre 
 of his fine forehead. Another tin he accidentally 
 transfixed with his rapidly-waving kris, and flung from 
 him contemptuously. At the command of a tall Malay
 
 182 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 in a red turbash, the attack ceased as suddenly as it 
 had begun. Seizing the bamboo mat, M'Whizzle flung 
 it indignantly aside, and, regardless of the state of 
 his own person, turned to the Sikh and began to 
 scrape away several large pieces of beef-dripping that 
 were adhering to his whiskers. 
 
 " When you have a moment to spare," said the tall 
 Malay, sarcastically, "will you kindly tell me where 
 I shall find my horse ? " 
 
 The expression of ignorance on the face of the great 
 detective as he turned and faced the intruder was 
 marvellous in its intensity. 
 
 " My good man," he remarked off-handedly, " you've 
 evidently mistaken the house. Try next door." 
 
 With an impatient wave of his kris, he turned and 
 resumed his labour at the Sikh's whiskers. 
 
 " The horse has been tracked here by my men," 
 said the Malay, quietly. " It was in this room a 
 moment ago. I am the Rajah of Tidatau." 
 
 M'Whizzle lowered his kris, and turned again. 
 
 " I am not in the habit of keeping horses in my 
 drawing-room," he said icily, " whatever may be the 
 custom of the Rajah of Tidatau. I tell you again, try 
 next door. Moreover, try before you drive me to 
 assert my official position." 
 
 " It would be awkward for you," sneered the tall 
 Malay, " if you had to assert your official position at 
 this moment." 
 
 " I'll have you all arrested in a minute," threatened 
 the Chief of the Secret Police. " Practical joking I 
 do not mind. But when it comes to flinging beef 
 dripping about my drawing-room, even my patience
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 183 
 
 has its limits. It is a proceeding that repels my 
 aesthetic sense, and besides, the fire insurance people 
 strongly object to it. In fact, it is one of those things 
 which are not done among civilized peoples. Are not 
 donL, I repeat, sir! Though, as a Malay, you can 
 hardly be expected to know that." 
 
 " This is mere cackle," said the Rajah, contemptu- 
 ously. " Where's my horse?" 
 
 With an ostentatious air of impatience M'Whizzle 
 sheathed his kris, and stalked to the centre of the 
 room. 
 
 " How many times," he asked furiously, " have I 
 to say that your horse is not here? Will you depart 
 from my premises and withdraw your men at once ? " 
 
 " No, I will not," said the Malay, firmly. " I want 
 my horse. You can have your camel in exchange." 
 
 "What camel?" 
 
 " A camel ! " exclaimed the merchant in astonish- 
 ment, opening his mouth for the first time since the 
 Rajah's entrance. 
 
 " Yes, sir, a camel," said the Rajah. " I know you, 
 Mr Templeton," he went on. " I also know that your 
 famous racehorse is missing. You will believe me 
 when I say that I have had nothing to do with its 
 disappearance." 
 
 The merchant nodded non-committally. 
 
 " You are here," the Rajah went on rapidly, " with 
 your wife and daughter in the hope of having your 
 racehorse returned. I am sorry for your disappoint- 
 ment. But when you employ a boob who hardly 
 knows a horse from a camel, what else can you 
 expect?"
 
 184 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 The Chief of the Secret Police gave the merchant 
 a compassionate smile, and nodded at Maud reassur- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Mr M'Whizzle, as you know," went on the Rajah, 
 " has a confidential clerk, a young Eurasian named 
 let me see. He gave me his card and told me to think 
 of the sweet pea flower yes, Podd, that's the name. 
 I met the young fellow in Singapore casually, and told 
 him that my name was Hadji Mahomet. You have 
 heard the name, I see, Mr M'Whizzle." 
 
 The great detective shrugged his shoulders with 
 what seemed to Maud a sudden increase of irritation. 
 
 " I told Podd, just for a joke," the Rajah went on, 
 " that I had seen the missing racehorse in the Palace 
 at Tidatau. He believed me, and went away in great 
 excitement. And, better still, his diabolically clever 
 master believed the tale too." 
 
 " I did not," exclaimed Lochinvar M'Whizzle, 
 angrily. Recovering himself, he glanced round, and, 
 observing the purple face of the merchant, bestowed 
 on it a reassuring wink. 
 
 " So these two clever fellows, Mr Templeton," 
 pursued the Malay in an even tone, " procured a camel 
 from goodness knows where, disguised themselves as 
 a mullah and his slave, and set out for Tidatau. My 
 wife met them at the bridge and detected them at 
 once." 
 
 The famous detective was unable to suppress an 
 exclamation of annoyance. 
 
 " Afterwards," went on the Rajah, " they attempted 
 some feeble conjuring tricks at the hotel, and were 
 hissed off the scene. Then we had a game with them
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 185 
 
 at the Palace, and they left for home, thoroughly tired 
 out. But, unfortunately, some of the more ignorant 
 of my women-folk whom my wife and I had not taken 
 into our confidence, grew alarmed at certain threats 
 Mr M'Whizzle made concerning evil spirits, and 
 managed to inform him of the whereabouts of a chest- 
 nut mare of my own. And as a man who does not 
 know the difference between a horse and a camel was 
 not likely to be able to tell a horse from a mare, one 
 can scarcely be surprised that Mr M'Whizzle promptly 
 annexed my mare and left his camel behind. Now, 
 here is your animal, Mr M'Whizzle " he walked into 
 the hall, and to the astonishment of the Templetons 
 and their groom, came back leading by its nose-ring 
 a weary-looking camel "Now, where is my mare?" 
 
 It was evidently only by a mighty effort that the 
 Chief of the Secret Police managed to steady himself 
 sufficiently to make a reply. 
 
 " A very plausible story," he remarked in a thin 
 voice, " but unfortunately quite unsupported by evi- 
 dence." 
 
 " I don't believe it's untrue, however," muttered the 
 merchant. 
 
 Maud Anderby was strongly of her step-father's 
 opinion, and so, she gathered, were the others. The 
 Rajah, unscruplous man though he might be, was in 
 this instance to be trusted entirely. That was very 
 plain. 
 
 " You bring here a camel as evidence of the truth 
 of your story," said M'Whizzle, in a contemptuous 
 voice. " You might have picked the beast up any- 
 where."
 
 186 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " They are not to be picked up anywhere," the Rajah 
 retorted. 
 
 " There are hundreds of them in Singapore," de- 
 clared M'Whizzle. " Strays from Arab encampments. 
 .You may not believe that, Mr Templeton, but your 
 sources of information are meagre compared with 
 mine. As for this cock and bull story about a mare, 
 to disprove it I will strain a point." He stretched 
 himself to his full height, and pointed sternly in the 
 direction of the yard. " You and your men, Rajah, 
 are at liberty to search the premises. Only no more 
 throwing of beef-dripping, if you please. I will not 
 allow it here. Constable, stand aside from the door, 
 and let the Rajah pass through." 
 
 The Templetons, following on the heels of the 
 search-party into the empty yard, bade their much- 
 occupied host a cool farewell, and made for home.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 NELLY RYAN, walking out of the comparatively quiet 
 antechamber into the dazzling sunlight of the back- 
 yard, stood and gaped. A violent battle was in the 
 act of being decided. In another moment Archibald 
 had won it. He stepped back, glistening with per- 
 spiration, and with an obvious air of complacency 
 surveyed the result of his labour. 
 
 " And what may you be doing? " inquired the young 
 lady from behind him. 
 
 Archibald turned in surprise, and in another instant 
 was bowing delightedly. 
 
 " If I had known that horse was a fillet, I would 
 never have been so timid of it, Miss Ryan," he re- 
 marked. " I always unnerstood that this was a 
 he-horse from its name, Old Joke; and Mr Ryan, 
 your respectable father, told me the instant I met him 
 that its hind legs were liable to shoot out any time, 
 and that I shouldn't be advisable to come into contact 
 with them. Hence my precautions, you see, Miss 
 Ryan?" 
 
 Nelly nodded. 
 
 " Up in Labuan we're always accustomed to take a 
 firm hand with the ladies, Miss Ryan," proceeded 
 Archibald, " and now I'm standing no nonsense from 
 this she-horse; no, I am not. She wanted to object 
 
 187
 
 188 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 to me putting on that saddle. But I put it on, Miss 
 Ryan. Oah yess, I did. And I wasn't long about it 
 either, now that I know he's a she." 
 
 He smiled, very pleased with his success. 
 
 " You've put it on wrong," said Nelly, shortly. 
 
 Archibald looked at her. 
 
 " Oh, no, dear-r lady. That's the way we always 
 put the saddle on in Borneo. Sitting in a horizontal 
 attitude in the exact centre of the spine." He gazed 
 at her anxiously. Women, he knew, even in Borneo, 
 had their caprices. 
 
 " Of course, dear-r lady, if you think it would look 
 better one or two feet further towards either of the 
 animal's ends, say the word. My wish is to please 
 you." 
 
 " You've got the saddle on the wrong way round," 
 said Nelly, in a tart voice. " Who can wonder the 
 mare's upset?" 
 
 " In Borneo we always have the saddle like that," 
 Archibald assured her. " Not a word more, dear-r 
 lady. I'll have it turned round in three minutes. How 
 we have this saddle, we shan't quarrel about that." 
 
 He flourished his hand, smiled, and nodded. 
 
 " Yes," he remarked in a flattering voice. " It's a 
 good idea of yours to have it turned round, Miss 
 Ryan. It will look, I think, very much better. Up in 
 Borneo " 
 
 " It doesn't matter about Borneo now," said Nelly. 
 " Do you know we have no time to spare? The Rajah 
 may be here at any moment." 
 
 " When you are here, dear-r lady," said Archibald, 
 gallantly, " all my time is to spare. You can take the
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 189 
 
 whole lot. You can even take me as well. Yes, I 
 assure you ! " 
 
 " Go on, sillee fellow, talking like that now ! " cried 
 Nelly Ryan. 
 
 Her look quelled Archibald instantly. With a mix- 
 ture of wonder and irritation he stood watching her 
 undo the girth and put the saddle in its proper position. 
 
 " The bridle," she shouted. 
 
 He handed it to her mechanically. 
 
 It was a pleasure to see how the horse obeyed her. 
 In spite of an uneasy feeling of being that degraded 
 thing, a man in the presence of a woman who knows 
 more than he does, he was secretly relieved that such 
 skilled aid was available. Certainly he would have 
 lost half his hand had he tried to put the bridle on 
 this fierce creature. She had already made one savage 
 attempt on him, but fortunately he had escaped with 
 a torn coat sleeve. 
 
 " All is ready," cried Nelly. " Take the reins." 
 
 " A thousand thanks, Miss Ryan. A thousand 
 thanks. Oah, yess, the reins. . . . Thank you." 
 
 With the air of a man who had just accepted a gift 
 he really did not want, he held the reins at arm's 
 length unostentatiously, and looked about him. 
 
 " Are you going to Tidatau across country or by 
 road?" Nelly asked. 
 
 "Which is the shortest?" asked Archibald. 
 
 " Across country, silly." 
 
 " That's the way I'm goin' then," said Archibald, 
 with decision. 
 
 " You're right, Mr Podd ; there's no time to lose. 
 She looks a good jumper too!"
 
 190 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 Archibald nodded uneasily. 
 
 " When you come to a very wide ditch," counselled 
 Nelly, " give her her head, Mr Podd." 
 
 " Give her her what, Miss Ryan? " 
 
 " Her head." 
 
 " But how can I do that when she has it already?" 
 asked Archibald, puzzled. 
 
 " Give her her head, you stupid," cried Miss Ryan. 
 " Leave the reins slack and sit tight." 
 
 " I will promise you to sit tight," said the young 
 clerk- " I shall also hold on tight when we are 
 swimming the ditches. But I do not like this 
 outlook." 
 
 " You'll be all right," said Nelly, comfortingly, " as 
 long as you do what I say. She's very quiet. It'll 
 be like sitting in a cradle. But don't slack the reins 
 too much or she'll take the bit between her teeth." 
 
 " She's had a bit between her teeth already 
 this morning, the she-horse devil," said Archibald, 
 viciously, " but it was only a bit of my jacket, thank 
 the goodness! I will take enormous care it doesn't 
 get any more bits. I shall be glad, personally, when 
 this she-horse is safe and sound at Tidatau, and I am 
 safe and sound in some other neighbourhood." 
 
 " The bit," explained Nelly, pointing, " is that bar 
 of steel at the end of the bridle. You are stupid ! " 
 
 " Oah, it can do what it likes with that bar of steel," 
 said Archibald, carelessly. " If it likes to bite it and 
 get toothache, it's nothing to do with me; it's the 
 fillet's lookout." 
 
 " All right," snapped Nelly. " Now then, up you 
 get. " I'll open the gate. Good-bye, and good luck."
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 191 
 
 " Good-bye, Miss Ryan," said Archibald. " Ar 
 think of me sometimes, will you?" 
 
 The gate slammed open. The mare edged sideways 
 restively. 
 
 "Very jumpy this morning, isn't she?" said Nelly, 
 coming back. "What, aren't you up yet?" 
 
 "I think those dangly-dangly things keep hitting it 
 in the stomach and make it cross," opined Archibald. 
 "We might cast them adrift, don't you think?" 
 
 "Oh, you !" Nelly laughed. "They're the 
 
 stirrups, boy. You must have them to ride with." 
 
 " In Borneo '" began Archibald, nervously. 
 
 " I don't believe there is such a thing as a horse in 
 Borneo," said Nelly, angrily. " I don't think you ever 
 saw a horse. You can't ride one. You're afraid." 
 
 " Afraid, miss ! " said Archibald, in a terrible voice. 
 With a determined look on his face, he clasped the 
 mare's neck, and in an instant was in the saddle. He 
 began at once to complain of its slipperiness, attempted 
 to follow Nelly's instructions, and put his feet in the 
 stirrups and, after a gallant attempt to save himself, 
 slid gently over sideways. 
 
 The sight of his concerned face as he toppled was 
 too much for Nelly. His rueful expression when he 
 picked himself up did nothing to cure her. She shook 
 with laughter. A sound of voices in the house stopped 
 the laughter dead. She seized the reins herself, and 
 leapt into the saddle, sitting astride. 
 
 " You big booby ! " she hissed. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Miss Ryan," said Archibald, 
 stupidly. 
 
 " You know nothing about horses, silly booby,"
 
 192 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 said Nelly, in a cruel voice. " Except wooden ones, 
 perhaps. You stay at home, you old woman, and darn 
 stockings, booby. I'll take the mare to Tidatau." 
 
 She jerked the reins, and the mare quietly walked 
 out of the gate. 
 
 The deeply-wounded Archibald watched the depart- 
 ure thunderstruck. Never before in his existence had 
 he been accused of being that despicable thing a 
 female. It was an insult to be wiped out at once. 
 
 He rushed down the slum after her, banging the 
 yard door behind him. 
 
 " I'll show you, miss," he cried, " that I can ride a 
 she-horse as well as you ! " 
 
 He drew alongside, seized Nelly, with as much 
 tenderness as possible in the circumstances, round the 
 waist, and climbed up behind. He nearly brought her 
 over, but not quite. In a few moments he was seated 
 and holding on tight. He felt that so long as he clung 
 vo her firmly he was safe. 
 
 They were both fairly light weights, and the some- 
 what stocky animal stood the load well. 
 
 " All right," said Nelly, good humouredly. " Sit 
 quiet, and don't be afraid." 
 
 She jerked the reins, and as if in order to make her 
 advice to Archibald impossible of accomplishment, the 
 mare broke into a trot. 
 
 During the next few minutes the young detective 
 caught a series of spasmodic glimpses of Singapore. 
 There was nothing particularly restful about the place 
 that morning. In fact, he had seldom witnessed more 
 movement in the town. The streets, especially in the 
 native quarter, were annoyingly full of spectators.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 193 
 
 Even as they got farther out there seemed more people 
 abroad than usual. He and his companion came in 
 for a flattering amount of notice ; small boys, appear- 
 ing everywhere, yelled a welcome. Missiles whizzed 
 by. There was a dead cat or two. 
 
 The soul of Archibald swelled with indignation. It 
 was revolting that two peaceful citizens could not ride 
 through the streets without such attention. 
 
 " Miss Ryan," he said loudly. " I want to alight 
 a few moments." 
 
 "What's the matter?" 
 
 " It's a disgusting matter, dear-r lady. I don't know 
 what it is exactly yet. But it has hit me on my neck's 
 back and still sticks. I wish to return it to its rightful 
 owner as forcibly as possible." 
 
 " It's only a banana," said Nelly, looking round. 
 
 " It must be the ripest one in Singapore, then," re- 
 marked Archibald, indignantly. " Half of it has 
 escaped already down the back of my nec.k. How- 
 ever, as long as it's not a dead cat down there I will 
 bear with it." 
 
 " It's only a lot of rude little Chinese boys," said 
 Nelly in a consoling voice. 
 
 " Let me get down to them, Miss Ryan," demanded 
 Archibald. " And you will see that they will not be a 
 lot long. In two minutes I would make them the 
 littlest lot that ever was." 
 
 " We cannot stop now." 
 
 " Very well, dear-r lady." 
 
 " You're quite comfortable ? " 
 
 " Comfortable in front," said Archibald, beginning 
 to laugh. " But when the population is busy throwing 
 
 N
 
 194 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 the spare parts of their larders after us, I catch myself 
 wishing that I had not a back. It is a pity you was 
 not twins, Miss Ryan." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Then I could put one of you to ride behind me," 
 explained Archibald. " But I am glad on the other 
 hand that you are not twins, Miss Ryan," he went on, 
 thoughtfully, " for if you was I have a feeling that 
 I should try and commit bigamy, and that might in- 
 terfere with my prospects as a confident clerk." 
 
 Nelly gave no answer except an impatient twitch 
 of the reins. They began to reach open country, and 
 trotted on green turf beside the red road under the 
 shade of giant mimosas white with delicate flowers. 
 Nelly turned the mare into a narrow by-path, where 
 the wall of trees grew even thicker. Here the hot 
 still air held a breath of coolness. She checked the 
 mare into a walk. A white gate barred the road. By 
 her orders Archibald slid off nervously, and opened it. 
 She would not let him re-mount. 
 
 "No," she said. "You must walk, Mr Podd. 
 You've had a good rest." 
 
 Archibald nodded. The quality of the rest was, he 
 felt, a matter of opinion, but what was the good of 
 arguing. All his organs, as he had already ascer- 
 tained, were still in position. 
 
 " The mare's had a doing," explained Nelly. " She's 
 in a lather, and quite tired." 
 
 She could not have been so tired either, for pres- 
 ently, when Nelly put her at a broad ditch, she went 
 over it with ease. Archibald made an attempt to 
 jump it also, and nearly went through it. Alarmed
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 195 
 
 by the mighty splash, Nelly turned, and from the other 
 bank watched his frantic efforts to free his feet from 
 the muddy bottom into which they had sunk, and gave 
 him advice, advice which he could not help thinking 
 was absolutely superfluous. He stopped and stared 
 indignantly at her for a moment, then, holding his 
 head well out of the water, recommenced his desperate 
 struggles. 
 
 " Keep cool, Mr Podd," said Nelly again. " Keep 
 cool!" 
 
 " I am keeping cool, miss," he shouted in a dis- 
 gusted voice. " I fin' the job an easy one, I can tell 
 you." 
 
 A loud splash farther down the ditch, a splash that 
 Nelly informed him was due to a large and hungry- 
 looking crocodile now heading his way, caused him 
 to make a last violent effort, and he succeeded in 
 reaching the bank. 
 
 Sitting down at a safe distance from the water's 
 edge, he examined himself all over. Finding that he 
 was still intact, his spirits rose. 
 
 " I felt like a fish out of water when I was in it, 
 dear-r lady," he remarked. " But now I feel more of 
 a hero, having just rescued somebody from a croco- 
 dile." 
 
 " We ought to be getting on our way," suggested 
 Nelly. " It wasn't a crocodile, anyhow. It was just 
 a small monitor lizard. Now doan* begin to tell me 
 about Borneo I dead sick of what you used to do in 
 Borneo. But I've heard that up there all of you 
 peoples eat lizards. I wonner if it's true." 
 
 " Miss Ryan, I assure you on my honour as a perfect
 
 196 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 gentleman, I have never eat lizards. I would scorn 
 to eat them." 
 
 Rather depressed at her opinion of him, he bent 
 down and cleared the mud from his canvas shoes. 
 
 They went on, striking a patch of open country 
 where the path ran through high lalang grass. There 
 had evidently been cultivation here at one time, but 
 now there were no signs of inhabitants. It was a 
 strip of country, Nelly said, held by the Government 
 as a forest reserve. Presently they would strike the 
 main road half-way to Tidatau. 
 
 " But there are peoples about here," remarked the 
 steaming Archibald, walking gaily beside the horse's 
 head. The hot sun was now drying him with great 
 rapidity. 
 
 " Verree few, I think," said Nelly. " You see none 
 are allowed by the keepers. It is a Government 
 reserve." 
 
 " But they are here," said Archibald. " I have seen 
 their footsteps." 
 
 " Some pass through, perhaps, although they are 
 not allowed," Nelly told him, " If the police should 
 catch us we might be put in jail." 
 
 " But I am a police," pointed out Archibald. 
 " Should anyone strive to put me in jail they would 
 have to answer before Mr M'Whizzle." 
 
 "Oh, Mr M'Whizzle!" exclaimed Nelly. "Don't 
 talk about him to me. He's 'most as bad as Borneo." 
 So disgusted was her tone that Archibald looked at 
 her in surprise. 
 
 " You don't think he is a great man, I perceive," 
 he remarked.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 197 
 
 " Oh, yes, I do," said Nelly, but the smile about her 
 lips hinted that the reply was made with reservations. 
 
 " I, being his confident clerk " began Archibald, 
 
 proudly. 
 
 " I think he is the greatest man in Singapore," 
 interrupted Nelly, " if stupid conceited fellows are 
 men, as I know they are." 
 
 " Dear-r lady ! " exclaimed the shocked Archibald. 
 He stared at her, and then said with decision: "But 
 you are wrong, that is an obvious." 
 
 " Ask Miss Anderby, then, if I am wrong," said 
 Nelly, hotly. " She thinks the same as me, and she 
 thought it before I did, because I heard her." 
 
 "You heard her?" muttered Archibald, regarding 
 the young lady on the mare through screwed-up, un- 
 believing eyes. 
 
 " I am always at her house, helping her with her 
 sewing," explained Nelly. " One day a parcel came 
 from your master, Mr M'Whizzle, sending a Chinese 
 robe 2000 years old which had been worn by a woman 
 who died of small-pox. And this silly man wanted 
 her to wear it! " 
 
 Archibald blinked thoughtfully. 
 
 " What does he want her to die for? " he demanded. 
 
 " But he doesn't want her to die, stupid boy ! " said 
 Nelly. " He wants to marry her." 
 
 Archibald looked at her stupidly. 
 
 " And then off you go to Tidatau," laughed Nelly. 
 " And bring back a mare ! And so much fussing and 
 importance! Oh, yes! You are very clever and not 
 at all conceited, you men-fellows. And Mr M'Whizzle, 
 he, of course, is the cleverest. And very shortly Miss
 
 198 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 Maud will have to marry him because he is so verree, 
 verree clever, and because Mr and Mrs Templeton 
 wish her to." 
 
 Archibald walked on for a few moments in silence. 
 
 " Never mind," he said at last. " I still think that 
 Mr M'Whizzle is very clever. He is so clever, in fact, 
 that nobody can understand why he does what he do, 
 and that is the reason many ignorant peoples find him 
 stupid. Needless to remark, I do not find him stupid." 
 
 " It was not stupid of him to believe that you could 
 ride a horse, oh no ! " pointed out Nelly in a sarcastic 
 tone. " It was very clever. I never believed it ; but 
 then I am stupid." 
 
 Archibald flushed guiltily. He was conscious of a 
 growing tendency to do so in the presence of this 
 young lady. 
 
 " I can ride a horse," he was stung into replying. 
 " I am a splendid horse's rider ; the only fault is that 
 I have never had any practice." 
 
 " Very well," said Nelly, pulling up the mare and 
 dismounting. " Here you are, Mr Horse Rider. Let 
 us see the splendid riding." 
 
 With a smile of anticipation on her broad, comely 
 face, she held out the reins. 
 
 But Archibald looked doubtful. 
 
 " This, as you know, dear-r lady," he faltered, " is 
 a mare, not a horse. It is also a very high one. But 
 if I was once sitting on it, I could sit on it." 
 
 " Up in Borneo, I suppose," said Nellie, " the horses 
 kneel down to let their owners mount. Down in 
 Singapore we call those kind of horses elephants, Mr 
 Podd, not fillets."
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 199 
 
 Archibald glanced at her. This chit of a girl, appar- 
 ently, was laughing at him again. For the past few 
 hours he seemed to have been nothing but a bad joke. 
 It was enough to sting anybody into action. After 
 trying in vain to put his foot into a stirrup, he kicked 
 it from him disdainfully, clutched the reins and the 
 filly's mane, and, making the effort of his life, vaulted 
 into the saddle. The surprised filly moved off at a 
 trot. Every jolt threw him a little more from the 
 perpendicular. There could not have been anything 
 more slippery than that saddle; he bent forward, 
 clinging on with hands and with knees; he took a 
 despairing bite at the mane, and hung on with his 
 teeth, shut his eyes, and awoke to find himself still 
 clinging on. Growing cooler, he was astonished to 
 find that he was clinging on easily. His legs, which, 
 when he started, had hung helpless, were now almost 
 horizontal, knees and feet gripping tight the mare's 
 sides. He had, in fact, instinctively adopted the seat 
 used by the Lawas boys when riding buffaloes bare- 
 backed. He had been one of the best of them at that 
 game. This trotting horse was certainly no worse 
 than a galloping buffalo. She slowed down to a walk. 
 Quite confident now, he sat erect, slipped his feet in 
 the stirrups, and at once conscious of the immense 
 help these gave him, gathered up the reins. The 
 docile mare broke into another quiet trot, and he was 
 back again at where Nelly stood. 
 
 " I can ride ! " he shouted, without making the 
 slightest effort at dissimulating the triumph he felt. 
 " You see, dear-r lady, I can ride ! " 
 
 "All boys can ride as well as that, stupid," said
 
 200 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 Nelly, but in spite of the shock to his pride her re- 
 mark occasioned, he could not but notice the new 
 tone of respect in her voice. She confessed, too, a 
 little later, as they walked the mare slowly through a 
 strip of dark moist woodland that lay between them 
 and the road, that his effort had been remarkable for 
 a beginner. From the questioning way she ended the 
 sentence, he gathered with a thrill of pride that she 
 was not quite certain whether he was a beginner or 
 not. The fact that when they reached the road she, 
 instead of demanding the reins, too.k unquestioning 
 his former humble position on the mare, seemed to 
 show that she had decided that he was not. 
 
 It was with a thrill of possession almost that he 
 felt her soft arms holding on to him as the filly trotted 
 along contentedly. But very soon that delightful ride 
 came to an end. There entered into view cultivated 
 fields, where mushroom-hatted Chinese labourers in 
 blue dungaree were busy hoeing up the weeds be- 
 tween rows of rubber saplings. 
 
 "This plantation," said Nelly, "belongs to the 
 Rajah of Tidatau. We will leave the mare here." 
 
 Archibald Podd dismounted after her. They led 
 the mare into a belt of wood, unsaddled and abandoned 
 her. Guided by Nelly, they hurried through by-ways 
 back to Singapore. Say rather that they should have 
 hurried. For it was well on towards evening when 
 Archibald deposited at the Ryans' bungalow a saddle, 
 a bridle, and the only girl in the world, and turned 
 his dirty but triumphant face in the direction of home.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 MAUD ANDERBY, hurrying over to the Ryans' bunga- 
 low the first thing in the morning to find out if her 
 young sewing-maid was still missing, was overjoyed 
 to meet at the stables Nelly herself. The girl showed 
 no signs of having encountered any of the awful fates 
 that Mrs Templeton had at once prophesied for her 
 on her disappearance. On the contrary she looked 
 well, and prettier than ever in a clean blue cotton 
 frock. With an air of suppressed excitement, she 
 overwhelmed Maud in a flood of narrative about the 
 doings of herself and Archibald, who, from her account, 
 had suddenly developed a particularly fine character. 
 
 " I hope he settles down and marries," remarked 
 Maud, looking at her shrewdly. " I always think it's 
 the best way round. He's not engaged yet, I suppose?" 
 
 Nelly's reply was to the effect that she had not gone 
 into the question. But Maud noted the blush and the 
 expression in her modest black eyes. And she felt 
 sorry that the tale she herself had to tell was not likely 
 to be amusing to anyone so obviously interested in 
 the fate of Mr Podd. 
 
 " We had troublous times at Mr M'Whizzle's house 
 after you had gone," she began. 
 
 " I know that, Missie," returned the maiden, some- 
 what to her surprise. " The door was burst open, the 
 
 201
 
 202 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 Rajah of Tidatau and his men came in. They had 
 with them a camel, which they said Mr M'Whizzle 
 had left behind him at Tidatau." 
 
 " I am afraid Mr M'Whizzle did not show up well 
 at all," Maud remarked. " He tried to make out that 
 the camel was not his, and that he'd never seen it 
 before." 
 
 "Yes," said Nelly. "They found Mr M'Whizzle 
 out to be a liar, didn't they? I mean, miss, how do 
 you say? A lead-swinger, iss it not? My father told 
 us about it last night." 
 
 " At anyrate, Mr M'Whizzle still wanted to persist 
 that the eamel was not his, and he did it very badly. 
 I am afraid his face betrayed him." 
 
 " It would betray anyone, that face," commented 
 Nelly. " The fact is, Miss Maud, when I saw it first 
 I had to look close to see whether it was a face at all. 
 It looked to me like a pumpkin gone wrong." 
 
 "I'm afraid you don't like Mr M'Whizzle," re- 
 marked Maud. 
 
 " Stupid, sillee man ! " 
 
 "Nelly!" 
 
 " Stupid, sillee man ! " said the unabashed Nelly; 
 again. 
 
 " Do you know, Nelly, he and your friend, young 
 Mr Podd, tried to do conjuring in front of the hotel, 
 and were laughed at?" 
 
 "Archibald never told me that!" 
 
 " No," said Maud, drily. ..." He wouldn't. I'm 
 very much afraid, though, that this Archibald of yours 
 is in for troublous times. Mr M'Whizzle naturally 
 does not like him so well now as he did once."
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 203 
 
 " He has had troublous times already, Missie," said 
 Nelly, with feeling. "That is why I'm looking so 
 pleased." 
 
 " You're pleased that he's got into trouble ? " ex- 
 claimed Maud. " But I thought " 
 
 " Archibald had troublous times directly he got 
 back home last night," Nelly explained. " But Mr 
 M'Whizzle's times were more troublous. I know they 
 were, because Archibald says so. He accused Archi- 
 bald of being a bad fellow and in league with the 
 Rajah. He accused him of taking him to Tidatau to 
 make him look a fool ; and Archibald, who was angry, 
 also told him that he had looked a fool before he went 
 you see Archibald's opinion of Mr M'Whizzle has 
 much altered since yesterday, when I told to him what 
 a stupid man Mr M'Whizzle was. He did not know 
 before I told him that you and I, Missie, thought Mr 
 M'Whizzle such a booby " 
 
 " But I never said " Maud began. 
 
 " But you looked, Missie." 
 
 " So Mr Podd is in trouble," murmured Maud. 
 " Well, I like him. I hope he doesn't have to go back 
 to Borneo. Perhaps things will blow over." 
 
 " One thing has blown over," said Nelly. " Archi- 
 bald blew over at ten o'clock after his quarrel with 
 Mr M'Whizzle, and stayed the night in our bungalow. 
 He said he'd rather be blown over than blown up. 
 And father told him he was right, for no man that 
 was a man should stand a blowing up from one that 
 wasn't, that is from Mr M'Whizzle." 
 
 "So Mr Podd has been discharged, and is staying 
 in your bungalow ? "
 
 204 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " He discharged himself," explained Nelly, her eyes 
 flashing with pride. " He " 
 
 A loud knock at the stable gate interrupted her. 
 
 " It's the horses back from exercise," she called 
 out, flying across the yard. " I was waiting for 
 them." 
 
 They filed in slowly, some eight of them. The red- 
 clad Malay syces in attendance wiped down their 
 glistening sides and led them to their several stables. 
 Maud, standing in the shade by the wall, watched the 
 brief picturesque ceremony, observed Nelly walking 
 from syce to syce in the brilliant sunlight, conversing 
 shortly with each and making a note or two in the 
 small book she carried. She explained on coming 
 back that her father was indisposed that morning, and 
 had asked her to see the horses in. Maud smiled. It 
 was common knowledge at home that the girl was 
 nearly as good in charge of stables as her father. 
 
 " Sambal looks well," she remarked. Sambal was 
 Mr Templeton's second string for the Derby. 
 
 " Yes, he does, Missie," agreed Nelly. " Old Joke 
 gave him ten pounds over five furlongs, before he 
 was stolen," she added, sadly. ..." I don't think we 
 shall ever see Old Joke again," she murmured. 
 
 " You don't think so? " Maud said. " I hope you're 
 wrong." And then, apropos, it seemed, of nothing, 
 she continued : " Do you happen to know, or have 
 you seen about here, a short Kling with very big 
 feet?" 
 
 " Noa, Missie, I don't," replied Nelly. She gave 
 her mistress a wondering look. "Why?" 
 
 Maud hesitated. " If ever you do notice such a man
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 205 
 
 about, let me know at once. . . . We'll see how my 
 mongoose is before we go." 
 
 They entered the stable. Maud had been in there 
 many times since tht horse was stolen. Nobody had 
 disturbed the hutch. Nobody therefore yet shared 
 the secret of the foot-prints underneath it. Now that 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle had made such a boggle of the 
 search, she reflected, she might perhaps allow some- 
 body to stumble across this rather important clue. 
 But that somebody should not be the famous Chief 
 of the Secret Police. What a contemptible spectacle 
 the man had made of himself yesterday! And the 
 puzzling feature was that nearly all Singapore revered 
 his ability, or said they did. Even Mr Templeton 
 was now showing symptoms of trying to find excuses 
 for yesterday's revelations. It was unfortunate, so 
 her mind travelled inconsequently, that her mother 
 had taken such a bitter dislike to Mrs Nixon. 
 
 Her reverie was interrupted by the appearance of 
 that lady herself at the stable door. 
 
 " They told me you were at the stables, so I came 
 straight on," said the old lady, advancing. She shook 
 hands and looked approvingly at the curtsying Nelly. 
 " Will you come to tea this afternoon ? " 
 
 "May I?" 
 
 " Alec has another of his attacks of indigestion," 
 said Mrs Nixon. " After yesterday's happening at the 
 only M'Whizzle's, I'm sure I don't wonder at it." 
 
 "It was rather awful, wasn't it?" Maud laughed. 
 " Am I a cure for indigestion, then ? " 
 
 " No," said the old lady, drily. " Merely a counter- 
 irritant. But never mind, you'll come?"
 
 206 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " Oh, yes, thank you very much." 
 
 " Now, young woman," said Mrs Nixon, curiously, 
 " tell me about yourself. Were you spirited away, or 
 was the disappearance from the yard due to your 
 having more sense than the rest of us ? " 
 
 Nelly, not quite sure what she meant, blushed and 
 looked up at Maud. 
 
 Then, at the sound of a well-known voice in the 
 stable yard, the trio stiffened. Footsteps were audible. 
 A sentence floated through the air. 
 
 "As we are now on the scene of the crime, Mr 
 Templeton, I'll explain to you exactly why I was 
 compelled, with a certain amount of ostentation, as 
 I daresay you noticed, to undertake that journey to 
 Tidatau. You will see, as I go on, that the whole 
 affair was a mere blind on my part, necessitated by 
 the cunning of a certain person we have to tackle." 
 
 " If Mr Templeton believes that," muttered the old 
 lady, half to herself, " he'll believe anything." 
 
 " Straight in front of us is the gateway to the 
 stables," continued the voice. 
 
 " Yes," agreed another voice, which the three women 
 had no difficulty in recognizing. 
 
 " Do you perceive anything noteworthy about that 
 gate?" demanded M'Whizzle. 
 
 From the silence that ensued, it was apparent that 
 the merchant did not. 
 
 " It leads into the road or street," pointed out 
 M'Whizzle. 
 
 " Of course it does," agreed the merchant, testily. 
 
 Maud looked at Mrs Nixon, and smiled. 
 
 " Old Joke," said M'Whizzle, impressively, " passed
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 207 
 
 through that gateway on the night of the robbery. 
 I am as certain of that as I am certain of anything 
 within the range of circumstantial proof. Would it 
 surprise you, Mr Templeton, to learn that before I 
 went to Tidatau on what the world at large regards 
 as a useless mission, I thoroughly examined that gate- 
 way for finger-prints with the aid of an electric torch 
 and a magnifying glass ? " 
 
 The inarticulate noise that the merchant made gave 
 the listeners no clue as to whether surprise or disgust 
 predominated within him. 
 
 " I examined it," continued M'Whizzle, gravely, " so 
 carefully that there could be no possibility of mistake. 
 I examined the fence, and found similar traces; I 
 examined the stable of Old Joke yonder, and found 
 similar traces. . . . Come into the stall, and I will 
 show you them." 
 
 " No, not that one," said the merchant, shortly. 
 "The third from the end was Old Joke's stall." 
 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle apologized profusely. He 
 had so many cases on hand just then, he explained, 
 that he could hardly be expected to remember which 
 stall the missing horse had occupied. 
 
 " Go up into the loft, Mr Templeton, taking this 
 torch and magnifying glass with you, and you will 
 find, surrounded by circles of pink chalk, the finger- 
 prints of Good morning, Miss Anderby. This 
 
 is indeed a pleasant surprise. Mrs Nixon ah how- 
 do-you-do." 
 
 " No great detective is ever surprised," said the old 
 lady at once, " except at the gross stupidity of other 
 people."
 
 208 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " At any rate, Mrs Nixon, I am never surprised at 
 seeing you," said Lochinvar, nastily. " It seems to 
 me you are always there." 
 
 " Some great detectives," returned the old lady, un- 
 moved, " are never there ; they never get there." 
 
 " I think; you will find, Miss Anderby, that I have 
 got there this time," said M'Whizzle, bowing. . . . 
 " I was about to say, when I was interrupted, Mr 
 Templeton, that you will find on the gateway of the 
 stables, the fence of the stables, the stables them- 
 selves, and in yonder loft, certain marks which were 
 useless to me without the further information now 
 at my disposal, and which I do not purpose at present 
 to reveal, finger-prints, to be exact, which have given 
 me sufficient grounds to cause to be arrested on 
 suspicion a very deep and cunning man, a man to 
 blind whom it was necessary to take the utmost pre- 
 cautions, a man in your service and well-known to 
 yourself." 
 
 " You don't mean to say ! " began the aston- 
 ished merchant. 
 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle looked at him compassion- 
 ately, and nodded. 
 
 " I am very sorry to say I do." 
 
 "But who ?" began the merchant, utterly at a 
 
 loss. 
 
 " When I tell you that the same guilty marks were 
 discovered by me on the front door of the bungalow 
 of your groom, Ryan " 
 
 " Mr Ryan ! " exclaimed Maud. 
 
 " You accuse my man Ryan of ? " exclaimed the 
 
 merchant.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 209 
 
 He stopped short. Tfy& anguished shouts that now 
 broke in on them was enough to make him alarmed, 
 irritated though he might be. 
 
 " Miss Ryan ! Nellee ! Miss Ryan ! " 
 
 They heard the rush of footsteps and an adjacent 
 stable door banged as the searcher sped on. 
 
 " Here ! " cried Nelly, running forward. " Here ! " 
 
 An agitated figure in an immaculate white suit 
 burst in. All recognized it. 
 
 " Miss Ryan, dear-r lady ! " Archibald cried, dashing 
 forward and spreading his arms in despair and sorrow. 
 " Oha ! Susa ! Susa I Policemens have been to the 
 bungalow and taken your father to jail." 
 
 The Chief of the Secret Police raised his head 
 proudly. 
 
 " When I act," he explained, " I act silently and 
 swiftly." 
 
 " And most entertainingly," added the old lady in 
 a dry voice. 
 
 " You have made a serious error this time," burst 
 out the merchant, with a glare which showed what 
 he thought of the proceeding. " You will please re- 
 lease Ryan at once." 
 
 " I shall do no such thing," said Lochinvar 
 M'Whizzle, disdainfully. 
 
 " But you have no evidence against him," expos- 
 tulated Mr Templeton, red with anger. 
 
 " The finger-prints are conclusive," said the Chief 
 of the Secret Police in a decisive voice. 
 
 " Finger-prints ! " exploded Mr Templeton. " I said 
 evidence." 
 
 " Perhaps you wouldn't mind telling us, Mr 
 o
 
 210 MR PODD OF! BORNEO 
 
 M'Whizzle," suggested the old lady in placid tones, 
 " what other evidence you have." 
 
 The Chief of the Police glanced at her undecidedly. 
 
 " The fact is " he began, and stopped. ..." I 
 
 shall place my evidence before the Government in 
 due course," he said with dignity. 
 
 " I thought so ! " exclaimed Mrs Nixon, giving him 
 a contemptuous look. 
 
 " It is a most tyrannous and unfriendly proceeding," 
 cried Mr Templeton. 
 
 " You misunderstand, sir," said Lochinvar 
 M'Whizzle, glancing at him sadly. " The action I 
 have been compelled to take hurts me far more than 
 you, but I hold the balance of justice in this city, and 
 never shall it be said of me that I held it unfairly, 
 even although my friendship with you has to suffer. 
 . . . Miss Anderby," he continued, in a low tone, " I 
 can never sufficiently thank you that at a recent in- 
 terview, unmindful of your own interests, you did not 
 hesitate to point out to me the path of duty." 
 
 "Oh, that's all right," said Maud. 
 
 " On the surface you take my decision lightly, but 
 I know what your woman's heart tells you, and be- 
 lieve me, I reverence your sacrifice. Good-bye, Miss 
 Anderby. Thank you again. . . . Good-bye, Mr 
 Templeton ! " 
 
 The merchant, beyond a fiery glance, vouchsafed 
 no answer. 
 
 M'Whizzle gazed at him with an expression of 
 mingled humility and indignation. 
 
 " Mr Templeton," he said after a moment, in a re- 
 proachful voice, " I am sorry we part thus. One day,
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 211 
 
 possibly in the police court, the scales will fall from 
 your eyes. Then you will appreciate the character of 
 a man who knows no other pleasure than his duty. 
 Then you will murmur to yourself, as I murmur now, 
 Tout comprendre c'est tout pardonner. Farewell." 
 
 With a melancholy bow, and a faint shrug of the 
 shoulders, he disappeared through the doorway. 
 
 " What a man ! " exclaimed Mrs Nixon, breaking 
 the thunderstruck silence. 
 
 " I'll have nothing more to do with him till he 
 releases Ryan," said Mr Templeton, firmly. 
 "Nothing!" 
 
 " He has no evidence against Mr Ryan, on that 
 point I will take as many bible oaths as may be 
 deemed necessary, sir," said Archibald Podd, advanc- 
 ing. " All the evidence that he has got about anything 
 don't amount to a row of safety pins, but he drives 
 himself to extreme lengths with rage and disappoint- 
 ment, sir. He has even discharged me." 
 
 " But you discharged yourself," said Nelly in haste. 
 " You told me so." 
 
 " Only after being ordered to leave at once," ex- 
 plained the young Eurasian. " I was tempted, Mr 
 Templeton,to discharge myself at him, sorely tempted, 
 Mister Templeton, I assure you; but I am a man of 
 religious training, sir, so I held myself in and dis- 
 charged myself through the doorway instead." 
 
 " Quite right, Mr Podd," said Maud. 
 
 " Yes, missie, better to be on the discharge sheet 
 with a month's pay than on the charge sheet with a 
 month's hard," said Archibald, wisely. 
 
 " This young man seems to be learning," muttered
 
 212 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 Mr Templeton to Mrs Nixon, with a smile that showed 
 that the storm in his mercantile bosom was subsiding. 
 
 " He's out of a job, poor fellow," pointed out the 
 old lady. " Upon my word, I've a mind to give him 
 one myself if only to spite our friend the Chief of the 
 Secret Police. Only goodness knows what I should 
 do with him." 
 
 " It would get your son disliked too," the merchant 
 commented. 
 
 The opportunity had presented itself. Maud 
 Anderby had not been looking for it, but she took it 
 without any hesitation. 
 
 " He would be more useful to us than to you," she 
 said in a low voice. " I hear he's simply wonderful 
 with a horse." 
 
 " In that case, he would," agreed Mrs Nixon. Both 
 looked expectantly at the merchant. 
 
 " Nelly," said Maud in a louder key, " this Mr Podd 
 is a wonderful rider, isn't he?" 
 
 " I I never saw anyone ride like him," said Nelly, 
 after the very slightest hesitation. 
 
 " Father," said Maud, in a matter of fact tone, " we 
 need another man in the stables badly, especially now 
 there is this trouble about Mr Ryan." 
 
 Archibald stood trembling with excitement. A 
 prospect full of wonderful possibilities had opened 
 suddenly before him. Visions of himself riding 
 gallantly to fame and fortune, himself first, the rest 
 nowhere, flashed across his eyes. He longed to be 
 instantly in action, to dart before Mr Templeton and 
 explain fully what a suitable man he was for the job, 
 and how hard he would try if given a chance. But
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 213 
 
 something told him that he was safe in the hands of 
 Miss Anderby, the most beautiful young lady, except 
 Nelly, that ever his eyes had rested on. He stood 
 silent, his eager eyes on the ground, until he heard 
 the words, " Well, would you like a job, Podd?" 
 Not until then did he begin to talk.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 ANOTHER home came almost as easily as another job. 
 Mrs Ryan at first misunderstood Archibald's offer to 
 take the place of her unfortunate husband, and re- 
 fused it. But when it was explained to her that with 
 so many thieves about a man was needed as a pro- 
 tector of the household, the persuasion of his silver 
 tongue, backed by a quite untrue remark of Nelly's to 
 the effect that he had undertaken to do all the rough 
 work, soon made her consent. 
 
 Life with the Ryans was a much more simple affair 
 than it had been elsewhere. Mrs Ryan drew his wages 
 and allowed him a dollar for presents, so but little 
 arithmetic was required of him. He understood from 
 her that he was saving money fast. This, in view of 
 certain responsibilities he contemplated assuming, but 
 which he had so far been too shy to mention to Nelly, 
 was, he felt, as it should be. 
 
 He had been astonished when Nelly said he had 
 undertaken to do the rough work; he was still more 
 astonished when he discovered how much of it there 
 was to do. Nevertheless he struggled manfully, 
 stimulated by the encouraging remarks of mother and 
 daughter. It was nice to be told that he was as 
 steady as ' Old Time.' Who Time was he did not 
 know, probably a former Chinese servant of theirs. 
 That the man had grown old was not surprising if 
 
 214
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 215 
 
 he had to work as hard as he, Archibald, was 
 doing. 
 
 But although his evenings were hard, if pleasant, 
 the days at the stables passed easily. Nelly Ryan 
 was not difficult to please, and after a week of strenu- 
 ous cleaning and barrow-wheeling just to prove to 
 him, it seemed, that she was mistress of the entire 
 establishment, he found himself placed under the 
 tuition of the most experienced stable-boy, to learn 
 to be a jockey. 
 
 To go out with the string of horses almost before 
 dawn, to watch from the grassy plain the sun rise 
 like a big jewel out of the great smooth ocean, to 
 inhale the comparatively crisp morning air, was a joy 
 worth living for. At his age everything was worth 
 living for ; but now in daily contact with that strange 
 creature, the horse, and those two even stranger and 
 more loveable creatures, Nelly and her mother, he 
 was as happy as a child at the Zoo. 
 
 In this new job of his he had already begun to 
 exhibit signs of genius, and his progress was astonish- 
 ing. They gave him an oldish, steady mare to experi- 
 ment with for the first week. On his showing with 
 that, promotion came rapidly. At the end of a month 
 he had ridden every horse in the stable. Nelly herself, 
 with Maud and Mr Templeton, came often to see him. 
 So impressed was the old gentleman with the style in 
 which he rode his first trial, that he gave him a five- 
 dollar rise on the spot. In short, Ahasuerus Archibald 
 Podd had become that happy being, the man who has 
 discovered what he can do best in this world an r d is 
 doing it.
 
 216 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 In the Ryan's bungalow he grew even happier as 
 time went on. The fact that the master of the house 
 was still in jail did not depress him unduly. Indeed, 
 he felt sometimes that the head groom would be rather 
 in the way. He was ashamed of the feeling and did 
 his best to curb it, taking every opportunity to express 
 loudly his contempt for his old master, Lochinvar 
 M'Whizzle, the oppressor of the poor. " Something 
 would have to be done about it all," he said as often 
 as necessary. 
 
 He said this for nearly the twentieth time after 
 finishing a hearty breakfast one morning some two 
 months after his arrival at the bungalow. 
 
 " Then why don't you do this something that you 
 are always talking about?" asked Nelly, sharply. 
 
 "Me?" said Archibald, looking up from putting on 
 his white canvas shoes. 
 
 " You are always saying what you'd do to Mr 
 M'Whizzle. How you'd tear him to pieces and boil 
 him alive," Nelly reminded him. 
 
 " I always said ' if I had my way/ " pointed out 
 Archibald, defensively. 
 
 " He doesn't care a bit how long my husband is 
 in prison," declared Mrs Ryan. " He sits there laugh- 
 ing and eating. And the more he laughs the more he 
 eats, and up go the household expenses. Why don't 
 you get up and do something, Mr Gentleman from 
 Borneo, instead of taking my trouble so very easily ? " 
 
 "What can I do?" 
 
 " Lots of things," cried Nelly. 
 
 He looked from the one to the other indignantly. 
 Plainly there were conspirators abroad.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 217 
 
 "I am doing my uttermost," he declared. "I am 
 thinking of Mr Ryan in jail nearly all the time. It is 
 a painful thought. But still I think it continually." 
 
 " Listen to him ! " cried Mrs Ryan. " You knew 
 my husband was at the police court again yesterday 
 for the tenth time. You never asked what happened. 
 That shows how much you think ! " 
 
 " I I did not want to obtrude myself into such a 
 painful subject," explained Archibald in excuse. 
 " Among the politest peoples the subject of having 
 their husbands in the police court is seldom referred 
 to. But my thoughts was with you and him. What 
 did 'appen, missis?" 
 
 " Mr M'Whizzle asked for another remand. He 
 said the evidence was not yet complete. The remand 
 was granted." 
 
 " They won't let father out, Archibald," said Nelly, 
 " till it's proved he did not steal the racehorse. I was 
 talking to Miss Anderby yesterday. She says she 
 thinks the spiteful Mr M'Whizzle will succeed in 
 proving father stole the racehorse whether he did or 
 whether he didn't. If it was a smaller thing than a 
 racehorse he would have proved it already, there being 
 plenty of peoples about who will swear anything. The 
 only thing that keeps him back is the fact that the 
 racehorse might turn up." 
 
 " If you were a man, Mr Podd," said Mrs Ryan, 
 " you would make the racehorse turn up." 
 
 " But I am a man," said the young Eurasian, 
 reddening. 
 
 " You ! " said Mrs Ryan, contemptuously. " You're 
 not!"
 
 218 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " In the opinion of the public I am a man," said 
 Archibald, speaking with great firmness. " Really, 
 Mrs Ryan, you seem to think I will believe anything 
 you chose to say, even in the face of my trousers. 
 But I am not gullible." 
 
 " Archibald is a man, right enough, mother," said 
 Nelly, kindly. " He always takes a second helping at 
 meal-times as though he had a right to it. You never 
 find a woman doing that. Miss Anderby said to me 
 yesterday, when we were talking in Old Joke's stall, 
 that we might get your help, Archibald," she added. 
 
 "She mentioned my name?" asked the eager 
 Archibald. 
 
 " She remarked also on how fat you were getting," 
 Nelly told him, cruelly. 
 
 " Oah ! " muttered Archibald, strongly disappointed. 
 
 " She wants you to go to-'day and clean out the 
 stall where her mongoose is, and take the mongoose 
 cage down to Mr Templeton's bungalow," said Nelly, 
 with a curious look. " She says that the exercise will 
 do you good." 
 
 " But I shall get all dirty," objected Archibald. 
 
 In answer, Nelly Ryan took him firmly by the collar 
 and led him all the way to the stable. 
 
 " Here's a broom now," she said in a hectoring voice. 
 " Now go and make the place clean. You are getting 
 fat and lazy too. Suppose it does make you dirty? 
 What is a man for then, but to do dirty work for we 
 ladies?" 
 
 She sat on a bin outside the stable door and watched 
 him sweep down the stall. It was indeed hot, dirty 
 work, but under her terrible eye he went at it with
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 219 
 
 a will. The clouds of dust he raised made him cough 
 incessantly. When he came into the open air again 
 streams of perspiration ran down his begrimed face. 
 
 " Now we will move the mongoose and hutch out 
 here," said Nelly, without giving him time for more 
 than a breath or so of fresh air. 
 
 " I can do thatt by myself," said Archibald. 
 " Doan't come in, you will get dirty." 
 
 But for some reason or other, Nelly insisted on 
 coming into the dusty stable. 
 
 " Now ! " she cried, bending. Together they lifted 
 the hutch and box. 
 
 " Oah, what dirt and dust ! " she said quickly. 
 
 " It iss dirty, but I will soon end that," remarked 
 the valiant Archibald, seizing the broom. 
 
 But the young lady held him back. 
 
 " Look at it," she said, gazing at the raised patch of 
 dust with marked intentness. " Iss it not dirty? What 
 a funny patch ! As if a man had treaded there." 
 
 Archibald followed her gaze, noticed something, and 
 stiffened like a dog at a rat hole. 
 
 " Miss Ryan," he said eagerly. " There is mysteries 
 here. Do you observe the feet prints ? " 
 
 " So so there are," cried Nelly. " They must be 
 those of the man that stole Old Joke. Fancy noticing 
 them. You are clever, Archibald." 
 
 Archibald said he was, and, moreover, that when 
 the police force lost his services they lost more than 
 they thought they had, which, he said, some people 
 had told him was not much. These marks were un- 
 doubtedly footprints, he said. The next thing to find 
 out was how the intruder had managed to get his
 
 220 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 feet under the hutch-box, closed in as it was on all 
 sides, and make the footprints. Having said this he 
 stood, his brow corrugated, painful in thought. 
 
 " It would have been easy enough to explain how 
 he did it," ventured Nelly after a while, " if the hutch 
 had not been there." 
 
 " I have it," cried Archibald at once. " Doan't you 
 see, Miss Ryan, this fellow made the prints first, and 
 then put the hutch on so that nobody should see 
 them." 
 
 " How clever you are, Archibald," exclaimed Nelly, 
 admiringly. " But what was he doing? Do you think 
 he was peeping at Old Joke ? " 
 
 " Yess, that is what he was doing," Archibald told 
 her. 
 
 " He must have been a very short man, then, to 
 have to stand on tiptoe," commented Nelly. 
 
 " He was a short man," decided Archibald. He had 
 not noticed till then that the intruder, whoever he 
 was, had been standing on tiptoe. But the deeper 
 impression near the bunched toes showed that Nelly's 
 surmise was correct. 
 
 " What big feet ! " remarked Nelly, in an innocent 
 voice. " Almost like a Kling's." 
 
 " Nelly," whispered Archibald, in sudden excite- 
 ment, " the man that stole Old Joke was a Kling. 
 We have here the big feet and the big toe turned in, 
 and when that night of the robbery I poked my head 
 into the hay-loft just before somebody hit it, I smelt 
 coconut oil verree strong. Stronger than the Malay 
 smells of it, but just like the smell of a Kling. There- 
 for I know that a Kling steals Old Joke."
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 221 
 
 The proof did not seem quite complete, but Nelly 
 appeared satisfied. Archibald, very excited at his 
 discovery of the foot-print and the conclusions he 
 had drawn from it, suggested at once that he should 
 lay the evidence before the Chief of the Secret Police 
 and demand the immediate release of Mr Ryan. 
 
 But this was a course of procedure that Nelly would 
 not hear of. They must keep this discovery to them- 
 selves, they two, she insisted. To this end she made 
 the disappointed Archibald put the hutch over the 
 foot-prints again. 
 
 " You're not going to tell anyone, then ? " asked 
 Archibald. "Not even Miss Anderby?" 
 
 " Miss Anderby " began Nelly, and stepped. . . . 
 
 " I was talking to Miss Anderby in this stable yester- 
 day," she went on. " I think you are right, Archibald, 
 when you say that a Kling has stolen Old Joke, for 
 Miss Anderby told me that her father says that a 
 big Kling merchant in Singapore betted a hundred 
 thousand dollars that Old Joke would not even run 
 in the Singapore Derby, even before the horse was 
 stolen. Miss Anderby says, too, that Mr Templeton 
 has betted much money that Old Joke will win this 
 race, and that he is getting very anxious. Mr 
 M'Whizzle says that he is certain that my father had 
 a hand in stealing the horse." 
 
 " He is a pretty beast, this M'Whizzle," put in 
 Archibald. 
 
 " So you see, Archibald," ended Nelly, " if you gave 
 your proofs to Mr M'Whizzle you might do harm. 
 For Mr M'Whizzle would rather do anything than 
 be proved wrong."
 
 222 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " It seems to me, dear-r lady," remarked Archibald, 
 " that I shall have to tackle the whole business single- 
 handed. It's a funny language, is our British 
 language, Miss Ryan," he added in passing, " when 
 anybody has got to do a hard job by himself, using 
 therefore both his hands, he says he is going to tackle 
 it single-handed. Of course if I start looking for the 
 thief again, I shall use all my hands and all my feet 
 till I've landed the thief one by his heels and so 
 stopped him from escaping." 
 
 " I hope you will, Archibald," said Nelly. " I shall 
 think more of you than ever if you do." 
 
 " I hope you think of me as much as is possible 
 already, dear-r lady," said Archibald. " However, I 
 promise you that you will not find me wanting. . . . 
 Except for one thing," he added gallantly, " which 
 you'll always find me wanting." 
 
 "What's that?" asked Nelly, innocently. 
 
 " You ! " he shouted, advancing. 
 
 " Go away, stupid," cried Nelly, flourishing the 
 broom before him as she retreated from the stable. 
 
 A shade dampened by this unromantic reception of 
 his first proposal, Podd finished his morning's work 
 in silence. 
 
 He came home earlier than usual for tiffin, and 
 afterwards proceeded to bathe and dress. In answer 
 to Mrs Ryan's inquiries, he said that he had an en- 
 gagement that afternoon to look for a criminal. From 
 his dandified appearance as he left the house it looked 
 as if he expected to find this person in a fashionable 
 quarter. This was, in fact, his expectation. After 
 another short visit to the stables, he spent the after-
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 223 
 
 neon in visiting hotel-bars in search of a short Kling 
 with big feet who should look rich and wicked enough 
 to have betted a hundred thousand dollars against, 
 and successfully stolen, the Derby favourite. 
 
 But whether because the afternoon was a bad one 
 or the thief was spending his money elsewhere, no- 
 thing in the shape of a small, rich-looking Kling 
 presented itself. Archibald drifted further into un- 
 familiar Chinatown. He found himself in a street 
 he recognized. Tram-cars ran along it, and one side 
 was lined with shops. 
 
 He walked along, looking at the busy interiors 
 incuriously. The afternoon had grown very hot and 
 depressing. The crowd of natives on the pavement 
 were not pleasant company. He resented the dis- 
 respectful way in which they jostled him, in spite of 
 the fact that he wore a white suit and straw hat and, 
 looked at from the back, might have been an important 
 European. 
 
 There came a ruder shove than ever, almost flinging 
 him into the gutter. A short, thick-set Kling, smooth- 
 haired and with an elaborate chignon, huge gold ear- 
 rings, and dirty white garments, flapped by him and 
 ran into the road to board a passing tram. Archibald, 
 looking after him indignantly, caught more than a 
 glimpse of the huge white soles of the fellow's bare 
 feet as they splashed through the mud. He ran a few 
 paces in anger, and then, to the surprise and amuse- 
 ment of the spectators, stopped in the middle of the 
 road and stood looking with deliberation at the mud. 
 
 Next he produced from a pocket and unfolded a 
 large sheet of white paper and a three-foot rule. He
 
 224 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 bent, and the spectators, crowding round, found him 
 comparing the imprint on the mud with the figure 
 sketch of a large foot. He pushed the crowd aside dis- 
 dainfully, and after standing for some minutes deep 
 in thought, boarded a passing tram-car. 
 
 It was over two hours later when a very footsore 
 and dusty Archibald turned into a by-road, opened a 
 white gate and entered the Government reserve. He 
 took up the path that but a few weeks before he had 
 ridden along with Nelly. He came more quickly 
 than he had anticipated although a path, he knew, 
 seemed always longer on the first traversing to the 
 ditch where he and Nelly had halted on that memor- 
 able day, and went down and examined the bank. 
 Yes, the footprints he had noticed then were still 
 there, and to them were added other and fresher ones. 
 It seemed to him, in fact, knowing as he did the habits 
 of forest folk, that this was a place where somebody 
 was in the custom of coming daily to draw water. 
 And the footprints left by that somebody were exactly 
 similar to those left in the mud by the Kling that 
 jostled him, and by the intruder in the Templeton's 
 stable ! 
 
 Archibald scrambled up the bank. His expression 
 now was that of a very much less civilized, but keener 
 and brainier man. He was bending and examining the 
 ground. Suddenly he set off quickly, like a hound 
 that had hit the scent. You could see him in the 
 thickest of trees, stopping, darting, taking cover 
 always, with the craft of a savage. Generations of 
 Dyak blood were helping him now. Later, at a sound 
 which no European ear would have detected, he hid
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 225 
 
 himself completely, in a clump of high grass. The 
 earringed Kling that strode along in the sunlight a 
 little later, with a pair of empty water-cans slung on 
 a pannier across his shoulders, did not even dream 
 that anyone was watching him, that was clear. 
 
 Archibald gave him plenty of time before darting 
 from his patch of grass. Now he fled like a hare, 
 scarcely troubling about the trail, but still noiseless, 
 still taking advantage of all cover. The last thicket 
 ended abruptly in a small clearing, in the midst of 
 which stood a square hut, roughly built of reeds. 
 After a wary look round, Archibald darted across the 
 intervening space and crouched against the wall. 
 
 He put his hands together and forced apart the 
 reeds. He looked in. There inside stood very quietly 
 a horse of a chestnut colour, a horse which, now he 
 saw it, he recognized at once. 
 
 A couple of hours later Alec Nixon, going home 
 from a hard day's tennis at the Templeton's, in cele- 
 bration of the first day of a month's leave, turned a 
 corner of the road and at once saw walking rapidly 
 in his direction a small very important figure in a 
 white suit. A suspicion that he knew this figure 
 turned to certainty as it drew nearer. 
 
 " 'Evening, Podd," said Nixon. 
 
 " Good evening, dear-r lady sir, I mean," said the 
 figure, raising its hat with a sweep. It passed on 
 almost at a run. 
 
 " Mr Podd," cried Nixon, turning on his heel ; and 
 then, as Archibald reluctantly came back a pace: 
 " Why all this hurry? What's your news? You have 
 some news, I can see that." 
 p
 
 226 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 The young Eurasian nodded. His rolling eyes and 
 wide smile informed Nixon that the news was of a 
 pleasant nature. 
 
 " It's private news, sir," he said. 
 
 "Private to you and Mr M'Whizzle?" laughed 
 Nixon, aware of Podd's tender point. 
 
 " Mr M'Whizzle is the last person who will obtain 
 the news from me," said Archibald, firmly. 
 
 "Ah?" said Nixon, in an inquiring tone. 
 
 Podd hesitated. 
 
 " I'm under sealed orders, sir," he explained. " My 
 lips have been sealed by two ladies. They told me 
 that if I discovered the missing horse I was not to 
 tell anybody, and," he added with dignity, " I'm not 
 going to." 
 
 "They said that?" 
 
 "They did, sir." 
 
 " Then I agree with them thoroughly," said Nixon, 
 with an excited gleam in his eyes. " If you had told 
 me, Podd, I should not invite you to my bungalow, 
 but as you haven't, I do so now. You look hot and 
 thirsty, Podd! You have the look of a man I knew 
 who died before they could bring him a whisky and 
 soda ! Come ! "
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 NONE were more surprised than the Ryans that 
 Archibald did not return home that evening, except 
 perhaps the missing youth himself. Maud Anderby 
 saw Nelly the next day, and said that Mrs Nixon 
 had rung up and asked that Archibald should be 
 allowed to accompany her son on a hunting expedi- 
 tion, and that Mr Templeton had granted permission. 
 How long Archibald was likely to be away Nelly 
 could not find out; but it seemed just as queer 
 to her mistress as it did to her that he had taken no 
 clothes with him, and had disappeared without even 
 saying farewell. 
 
 She expected confidently to hear from him soon; 
 her mother, who since Mr Ryan's imprisonment had 
 developed a cheery tendency to believe that every 
 cloud had a silver lining, said she would probably hear 
 from him within the next few hours, for a short 
 sojourn in the jungle made most men think of home. 
 But, as time went by and no letter came, she began 
 to grow resentful, and absolutely declined to believe 
 in her mother's theory that a cut finger on Archibald's 
 writing hand was the cause of his seeming negligence. 
 
 It had been decided between Maud Anderby and 
 herself that Podd should be selected for riding the 
 second horse, Sambal, in the Derby. The horse had 
 not the slightest chance of winning, and Mr Temple- 
 
 227
 
 228 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 ton, grown permanently gloomy nowadays over the 
 loss of the favourite, did not seem to care who rode 
 him. 
 
 The prospects of her father being released grew 
 steadily worse, it seemed to Nelly. She had never 
 imagined that a man could be detained so many weeks 
 without being brought to trial. It showed how great 
 was the influence the Chief of the Secret Police 
 possessed. True, the suspect was treated with the 
 utmost consideration, and seemed contented with his 
 lot. But when a man sits on the veranda of his prison 
 quarters and calmly tells his wife that he is more com- 
 fortable there than in his own bungalow, it is clearly 
 high time for him to be released; and both mother 
 and daughter were anxiously awaiting the lifting of 
 the great cloud that had come upon their home-life. 
 
 As Mrs Ryan often said, when a married man takes 
 to bachelor ways there is no hope for him. 
 
 The absence of both father and Archibald gave Nelly 
 plenty to do at the stables, and as the time of the race 
 drew near, as often as not she was in the saddle at 
 'dawn superintending the final touches to Sambal. 
 
 On a hot morning two days before the race she had 
 come home a shade jaded, and was now, after break- 
 fast, reviving her spirits by hanging the laundry out 
 to dry. Her mother had gone down to the jail with 
 a basket of delicacies calculated to create a longing 
 for home in the bosom of the most hardened married 
 man. Light clouds were flitting over the hot, bright 
 heavens. A fine breeze, blowing in from the sea, made 
 working pleasant. In its strong embrace the white 
 clothes billowed and flapped cheerfully.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 229 
 
 A hen, clucking loudly, left a corner where, with 
 the casualness of the oriental dorking, it had deposited 
 an egg in full view of the general public. A dozen 
 hens ran towards the egg on eating bent. And Nelly 
 ran too. 
 
 " Good morning," said a well-known voice, as she 
 stood erect wiping the egg on her apron. 
 
 " Archibald ! " exclaimed Nelly, in an eager voice. 
 " I mean, Mr Podd," she added as, after a preliminary 
 scraping and kicking, a grinning face surmounted by 
 a brand new solar topee slowly appeared above the 
 fence. 
 
 " You are a great stranger," said Nelly in a coldish 
 voice. 
 
 " Home again, you see, like the prodigious calf," 
 grinned Archibald, uneasily. 
 
 " You might have written." 
 
 " I can't explain while hanging to this fence," said 
 Archibald. " I was about to stroll in singing ' Home, 
 Sweet Home,' and take my acucstomed place by the 
 fireside, if one was needed in the equatorial regions, 
 but your expressions on your face are very discourag- 
 ing, Miss Ryan. If you will pardon me, I am not a 
 great stranger. In fact, as a stranger I am only about 
 a month old." 
 
 His arms growing tired, he dropped out of sight. 
 Nelly heard him muttering to himself on the other 
 side of the fence. 
 
 She unbolted the gate. 
 
 " Come in, then, little stranger," she said, good- 
 naturedly. 
 
 The young man made his entrance with dignity.
 
 230 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 Everything about him was brand new, the leather- 
 bound, military topee, the high-collared, white duck 
 suit, the bright yellow boots. Even his teeth had a 
 Regent Street window look about them. 
 
 " Dear-r-r lady, how ar-r-e you," he inquired, hold- 
 ing out a hand. " Excuse my gloves," he added. 
 
 " I don't know what there is to excuse about them, 
 Archibald," remarked Nelly, looking at the hand. 
 " They seem to me good lemon kid. You must have 
 paid a fortune for them." 
 
 " I only said that because that's what a gentleman 
 always says to a lady," Archibald confided to her, 
 smiling. " I read it often in stories of the affections. 
 But I suppose in England the loving male is always 
 a poor and therefore his gloves have holes in them 
 and must be excused. Now, I am no longer a poor ! " 
 
 " You're looking well," said Nelly, quickly. 
 
 " And you also," he smiled, with an admiring glance. 
 
 " I ought not to be," she protested, " with all my 
 hard work, and father away and you away." 
 
 "Did you miss me much?" queried Archibald, 
 tenderly, standing on one leg. 
 
 " We missed the cat more," Nelly replied. " She 
 got chewed up by a dog the same night as you left. 
 We wondered if the dog had chewed you up too. But 
 Miss Anderby told us next day that you'd gone hunt- 
 ing. Where was you hunting, Archibald?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, we was hunting I " said the young man, 
 evading the question. He twirled his ebony cane. . . . 
 " And we've been rowing and sailing and swimming 
 and ri we've had a jolly fine old times, I can assure 
 you."
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 231 
 
 "Why didn't you write?" demanded Nelly, natur- 
 ally indignant that the person she imagined tramping 
 through the jungle after rhino had been living this 
 life of pleasure. 
 
 " Mrs Nixon made me promise I wouldn't," replied 
 Archibald, after slight hesitation. 
 
 " I didn't know she was there." 
 
 " Oah, yess," said Archibald. " We've been on Mrs 
 Nixon's nephew's rubber estate on the Dutch coast 
 opposite Singapore. We went on his launch." 
 
 "What made you go in such a hurry?" asked the 
 mystified Nelly. " If you knew you were going, surely 
 you could have told me." 
 
 " I promised Mrs Nixon I wouldn't," said Archi- 
 bald, looking down and tapping his boot with the 
 ebony walking-stick. 
 
 "Very well, Mr Podd," said Nelly in an offended 
 voice. " If Mrs Nixon is more to you than I me and 
 mother are, good-bye then." 
 
 She turned, and began to walk quickly towards the 
 bungalow. 
 
 " Oah, Miss Nelly," cried Archibald, following her, 
 his arms outstretched imploringly. 
 
 " Don't you address me as Miss Nelly, you treacher- 
 ous boy," she called out, turning her head. She walked 
 through the garden door and slammed it in his face. 
 
 It was as if the door had actually hit his face, so 
 miserable was his expression. He stood for a minute 
 staring at the painted barrier of planks with pained 
 eyes. 
 
 The latch moved. The door opened a few inches. 
 An offended face peepe'd out.
 
 232 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " Doan't you call me Miss Nelly again, Archibald," 
 said the girl, even more sharply. 
 
 " I won't, I won't, I assure you, Miss Miss Ryan." 
 
 " And I won't be called Miss Ryan either, Archi- 
 bald," snapped the maiden. Archibald stared at her. 
 
 " You won't be called Miss Nelly, and you won't 
 be called Miss Ryan," he muttered, mystified. " Then 
 what the dickens must I call you ? " 
 
 "Don't you know, you stupid fellow?" she cried, 
 blushing and giving him a glance that in an instant 
 turned him to fire. " Oah " 
 
 She ran up on to the veranda. 
 
 But if ever Archibald broke a speed record it was 
 on that morning. He was on the veranda as soon as 
 she. 
 
 " I shall call you Nelly," he said, hoarse with joy. 
 " I shall always call you Nelly. Oah, what a lucky, 
 lucky man I am ! " 
 
 " But you must not think, Archibald," said the 
 young lady with composure a few minutes later from 
 the armchair in which Archibald was sitting, " that 
 I have promised to marry you because I like you. 
 Oh, noa ! That is not soa ! " 
 
 "Not so, Nelly?" exclaimed Archibald in slight 
 alarm from the armchair in which Nelly was 
 reclining. 
 
 " You see, husbands are not allowed in Christian 
 countries to keep secrets from their wives." 
 
 " Hum Nelly," muttered Archibald, looking a 
 shade discomposed. 
 
 "Now," said Nelly, putting her head in the centre 
 of his immaculately-clad chest. ..." Oh, I am com-
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 233 
 
 fortable. . . . And I am ready to hear all about where 
 you have been." 
 
 " After we are married, Nelly dear," he cooed. 
 " Perhaps in six months' time." 
 
 The young lady sat up instantly and, with an angry 
 motion, freed herself from his arms. 
 
 " But I have sweared a great oath," protested 
 Archibald. " And Mrs Nixon who I sweared it to is 
 down at Mr Templeton's bungalow now waiting for 
 me. She also put me on my honour as a gentleman 
 that I would never reveal anything " 
 
 Miss Ryan rose to her feet. 
 
 " Of what," said Archibald, hastily, " I am going 
 to reveal to you if you will swear on your honour as 
 a perfect lady that you won't tell her I told you it." 
 
 " You stupid dear," murmured Miss Ryan, sinking 
 back into the many-armed armchair. 
 
 Mrs Nixon might have had to wait at the Temple- 
 ton's bungalow for Archibald (who had promised to 
 be absent only five minutes) had not the arrival of 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle within a quarter of an hour of 
 her own caused her visit to be prolonged. 
 
 The Chief of the Secret Police, who was disguised 
 as a Bombay constable, arrived in great good humour, 
 and, as ever, was glad to get through his business in 
 public. 
 
 " I have not forgotten our talk, Miss Anderby," he 
 murmured, bowing over her hand so low that she 
 was nearly putting up the other hand to hold his 
 helmet on. " Your words have ennobled and purified 
 me."
 
 234 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 Maud said shortly that she was pleased to hear it. 
 
 " I have ceased to think of you as a mere woman," 
 said Lochinvar, ardently, allowing his brilliant black 
 eyes to dwell on her face. " To me now you are a 
 star. I am climbing towards you, climbing every day. 
 You draw closer. I begin to detect your lineaments. 
 I look forward to the day when I shall shine beside 
 you, a twin star." 
 
 Maud nodded coolly. She positively hated him now 
 for his treatment of Ryan. 
 
 " It is a long time to look forward to," he suggested, 
 mistaking apparently the reason for her silence. 
 
 " The longer the better," said Maud, bluntly. 
 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle drew himself up and looked 
 at her in offended amazement. 
 
 " You are prejudiced against me because in Ryan's 
 instance I insist on doing my duty," he said in a re- 
 proachful voice. " Very well. . . . Mr Templeton," he 
 said loudly, walking across the drawing-room. " And 
 . . . Mrs Templeton." 
 
 " Please don't leave me out, Mr M'Whizzle," said 
 the old lady. 
 
 " And, of course, Mrs Nixon," added M'Whizzle, 
 with the slightest of sneers. " Although really the 
 matter does not concern you. ... I called in passing, 
 Mr Templeton, because I knew you would be inter- 
 ested in my news. Your racehorse Old Old Joke 
 is no more." 
 
 " But the matter does concern me," said the old 
 lady, calmly. " I put a thousand dollars on him 
 yesterday." 
 
 "You what?" exclaimed the merchant in astonish-
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 235 
 
 ment. " How foolish to run the risk ! As though we 
 don't stand to lose enough." 
 
 " Mr M'Whizzle was confident he would recover the 
 horse," said Mrs Nixon. "And my belief in Mr 
 M'Whizzle's almost supernatural abilities is childlike." 
 
 " My dear Mrs Nixon ! " said the Chief of the Secret 
 Police, delightedly. " But you must not expect us to 
 do everything," he added, shaking a playful forefinger. 
 " Here is an instance. We have discovered your 
 horse, or all of it there was to discover, but, sadly 
 enough, what we did discover was in the stomach of 
 a crocodile." 
 
 " You don't mean to say," exclaimed Mrs Nixon, 
 " that you marvellous detectives know what is going 
 on in the stomachs of the crocodiles ! " 
 
 " Well, hardly that," smiled Lochinvar M'Whizzle. 
 But " 
 
 " I shall have to call him in to me sometimes after 
 dinner," said Mr Templeton. 
 
 " You'll have the Singapore Medical Association 
 after you if you do," returned the old lady. 
 
 " I was about to say," said the Chief of the Secret 
 Police, in freezing tones, " when you were good 
 enough to interrupt with your doubtless very amusing 
 comments, that a large crocodile was caught last night 
 in the River Taub, only two miles from where we 
 are now, and that in its stomach was found this." 
 
 Amid an interested silence, he opened the despatch 
 case he was carrying and produced a large horse-shoe. 
 
 "Only that?" asked Mrs Nixon, after a short 
 silence. 
 
 "That was all connected with this case," said
 
 236 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 M'Whizzle. "We found, however, clues connected 
 with other cases on which we are engaged." 
 
 "No nails?" 
 
 " There was a bit of partly-digested nail, I believe, 
 but a careless constable lost it." 
 
 " All the rest of the horse gone ? " asked Mrs Nixon, 
 in a dismal voice. 
 
 " All gone." 
 
 " Poor fellow ! " said Mrs Nixon, tearfully. " Poor 
 Old Joke!" 
 
 " The horse was evidently being led across the ford 
 on the night of the robbery," explained the Chief of 
 the Secret Police, " and the brute seized it and pulled 
 it into deep water. I had the local police up before 
 me, and, after severe cross-questioning, got them to 
 admit that they saw a yellow horse being led across 
 the ford by a short white man, whom I had no diffi- 
 culty in recognizing from their description as Ryan." 
 
 " Ryan must have been indigestible, like the horse- 
 shoe," commented Mrs Nixon. 
 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle frowned at her majestically. 
 " I have other evidence against Ryan," he said, " and 
 he knows it. He is trying to throw me off the scent 
 too. Only to-day I received information that he has 
 backed this deceased horse, Old Joke, through an 
 intermediary for a very large sum. And I understand 
 that my late clerk, Podd, has also been putting money 
 on the horse. Probably he, too, wants to throw me 
 off the scent. But, as usual with the criminal classes, 
 these men have over-reached themselves. Their action 
 has merely had the effect of increasing my suspicions." 
 
 " You'll have to arrest all Singapore soon," com-
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 237 
 
 mented Mrs Nixon, " and where you'll find jails 
 enough I don't know." 
 
 " Do you know what I think of your horse-shoe 
 tale, sir?" asked the merchant, explosively. 
 
 " George 1 George ! " said Mrs Templeton in a 
 soothing voice. 
 
 " I think it's tommy rot, sir I " said her husband. 
 
 "Very well," said Lochinvar M'Whizzle in an icy 
 tone. " I have done my duty. My conscience is clear. 
 I had intended, sir, to present you with this horse-shoe 
 as a memento of the occasion, but I no longer have 
 that intention. Instead, I lay it at the feet of a lady 
 whose soul, sir, is on a plane sufficiently high to call 
 to mine. . . . Miss Anderby," he continued, with a 
 graceful gesture, " accept from me this trophy of the 
 chase in memory of that ennobling conversation we 
 had together." 
 
 Laying the horse-shoe on a foot-stool at Maud's 
 feet, he rapidly left the apartment. 
 
 Mrs Templeton, in some indignation, got a small 
 pair of tongs and, picking up the horse-shoe, dropped 
 it gingerly through a window on to a flower-bed. She 
 said she did not mind what Maud thought, but nothing 
 would induce her to have in her drawing-room any- 
 thing that had been in a crocodile's stomach. 
 Throughout her life, she said, she had striven to 
 preserve an elegant tone, and not even for Maud's 
 sake would she cease her efforts. 
 
 " I think I shall have it nailed on Old Joke's stable 
 door," said Maud, laughing. 
 
 "You don't believe it was his?" gasped the 
 merchant.
 
 238 MR PODD OE BORNEO 
 
 " She does," observed Mrs Nixon. " Didn't you 
 notice the tears ? Poor Mr M' Whizzle ! " 
 
 " I think he must be going mad," said Maud, in some 
 concern. 
 
 " You've got some secret understanding with him," 
 said Mrs Nixon, accusingly. " I know it." 
 
 " I hope not," said Mrs Templeton. " I sincerely 
 hope not." 
 
 " Only when I'm on my astral plane, mother," Maud 
 assured her. 
 
 "These very brilliant men are sometimes rather 
 unsound," commented the merchant. " I wonder if 
 there's anything in what he thinks about Ryan." 
 
 " Father ! " cried Maud. " You've known Ryan for 
 years." 
 
 "But still," said Mr Templeton. "Racing, you 
 know ! I didn't like what he said about Ryan putting 
 money on. I wish I could take mine off," he added, 
 sighing. 
 
 " Don't do anything of the kind," said the old lady, 
 earnestly. "And whatever you do, Mr Templeton, 
 'don't be tempted to scratch the horse. I don't pretend 
 to be a prophetess, and I seldom have presentiments. 
 Perhaps it may be that lately I have had slight 
 neuralgia, but something inside me keeps on saying 
 that Old Joke is going to run, and more than that, 
 is going to win." 
 
 " Thank you for being so encouraging," said the 
 merchant with a melancholy smile. " Of course I 
 hope you are right, but the chance of his being found 
 seems slight now." 
 
 " Do look after your neuralgia," urged Mrs Temple-
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 239 
 
 ton. " In this climate it is dangerous and, if it causes 
 sleeplessness, may give rise to something mental. I 
 suppose you have not had much sleeplessness ? " 
 
 " None," said the old lady, shortly. " Dear me, 
 we've been talking so much, and Mr M'Whizzle was 
 so entertaining that I'd really forgotten what I'd come 
 for. Ah, yes. . . . We are having a very pleasant time 
 on my nephew's estate, and we are all coming in for 
 the races. Then we are going back for a week or two, 
 and I do so want Maud to come over with us. It'll 
 be a change, and the bathing is beautiful. I'm sure 
 you would enjoy it, Maud." 
 
 " I should love to." 
 
 " Of course she will be glad to go," said Mr 
 Templeton, heartily. 
 
 " You can wear your old things over there and enjoy 
 life," her mother pointed out. " Not too old though ; 
 there will be a lot of planters about. I don't care for 
 planters much, but, after all -" 
 
 " They're going to have a race dance," said Mrs 
 Nixon, getting up. " I see my cavalier on the drive." 
 
 "It's Podd, isn't it?" said Mr Templeton, peering. 
 
 " Yes, young Mr Podd of Borneo," said Mrs Nixon. 
 " Doesn't he look impatient and isn't he a swell ? "
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 IN that curious mosaic known as Singapore, which sits 
 on the equator complacently as a watch-chain locket 
 on a portly man, all nationalities the year through go 
 their several ways. Each nationality at the proper 
 season holds its national festival, of which all the 
 other nationalities are tolerant and amused spectators. 
 No European, for instance, can look at a number of 
 solemn Chinese attempting to imitate a dragon trying 
 to swallow the sun in the procession at Chinese New 
 Year without experiencing a slight tendency to smile. 
 And the Chinaman who sees an Englishman hit on 
 the elbow by a fast bowler receives the information 
 that cricket is an enjoyable game with something more 
 than a suspicion of mirth. 
 
 But all races and creeds are alike in their apprecia- 
 tion of a good horse, and on Derby Day there is not 
 usually much doing in the business quarters of Singa- 
 pore. 
 
 At three o'clock on the day of that memorable 
 Derby, as one cannot see the wood for the trees, so 
 the Race Course, because of the crowds on it, was 
 nearly invisible. They surged everywhere over the 
 large grass plain in the hot sunshine, meeting and 
 mingling, brilliant as a kaleidoscope, men and women 
 of nearly every race the Orient holds, gesticulating, 
 smiling, quarrelling, smoking, chewing; sucking 
 
 240
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 241 
 
 cnanges, sucking pineapples, sucking melons. The 
 perspiration rolled oft" one and all, the cheerful noise 
 gladdened the whole island, and where the crowd was 
 thickest arose, yes, even a faint cloud of steam. 
 
 Motor cars and charabancs, luxurious bullock 
 waggons, carriages and pairs more glittering than any- 
 thing Hyde Park sees lined parts of the course. Some 
 were open and full of staid Chinese women and their 
 solemn-faced children. From chinks in the closed 
 silk curtains of others, languishing eyes looked out, 
 there was a gleam of gold ornaments, a glimpse of 
 rounded yellow arms, delicate taper hands, with 
 henna-stained finger nails. Gaudily-attired Malays, 
 suspicious and truculent-looking, threw fierce glances 
 at any passer-by who dared to show too much inquisi- 
 tiveness about what exactly the contents of these 
 curtained equipages were. 
 
 The demeanour of those in the enclosure was a 
 shade quieter than usual that day. Nobody knew, in 
 fact, exactly where he was. Old Joke had for months 
 been a hot favourite for the race, with the Rajah of 
 Tidatau's filly a bad second. And then a month or 
 f o before the day, the favourite for some reason or 
 olher had receded to 33 to 1. And even at that price 
 there had been a syndicate of Klings openly willing 
 to lay thousands against him. 
 
 The Rajah's filly was said to be lame, and had gone 
 back to third place, and the favourite now was 
 Bohong, a big Australian bay owned by a kongsi of 
 Chinese merchants, who were still putting their money 
 on at 3 to 1, stolidly disregarding the thousand 
 rumours that were flying about the ring. For some 
 Q
 
 242 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 reason or other a lot of money had been quietly put 
 on Old Joke during the past week. It had been done 
 with very great judgment, but as at the same time 
 the Kling syndicate had been refusing to lay any 
 more against him and were known to be trying to 
 balance their book, the price hardened, and now stood 
 at 10 to 1. 
 
 The news that the horse had been stolen had, of 
 course, reached the town, but not too much attention 
 had been paid to it in well-informed racing circles. 
 The Chief of the Secret Police had a general reputa- 
 tion for diabolical cleverness, and it was felt that such 
 a well-advertised theft was merely a cunning move on 
 his part with a view to the bringing of other criminals 
 to justice. Old stagers placed their faith entirely on 
 Mr Templeton; and as he had invariably put off all 
 inquiries and had never even suggested scratching 
 the horse, they had kept their money where it was. 
 
 On the grand stand itself the atmosphere had 
 attained a solemnity befitting the presence of the 
 Governor, a man who was well known to positively 
 favour the total abolition of all gambling, betting, 
 drinking, opium smoking, and horse racing, and who, 
 every one knew, only attended race meetings under 
 compulsion of his well-marked sense of duty. Most 
 people here felt that too much gladness on such an 
 occasion would show disrespect for the State, and 
 restrained themselves accordingly. But the Nixons 
 and Templetons had seats in a far-away corner, where 
 a certain amount of decorous mirth might be per- 
 mitted. 
 
 Not that Mr Templeton looked inclined to laugh.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 243 
 
 Those who noticed him, and they were many, were 
 alarmed at the expression on his face. At 2.45 he 
 looked so miserable that Old Joke went back a point 
 in the odds. The merchant had, in fact, been inclined 
 not to come at all, and except that a certain pride and 
 a disinclination to run away when beaten, together 
 with the knowledge that his wife had a new lavender 
 frock she wanted to exhibit, had held him, the Singa- 
 pore Derby would have been without his presence for 
 the first time in twenty-five years. But witnessing 
 the race was all he felt equal to, and he had left the 
 care of Sambal to Nelly, with Alec Nixon as his repre- 
 sentative. 
 
 At ten minutes to three, the white-haired, monocled 
 Race Club Secretary, on that day a more important 
 man that the Governor himself, came along, shook 
 hands, and paid Mrs Templeton's frock a delicate 
 compliment. Mr Templeton grew more cheerful. At 
 five minutes to three, Mrs Nixon unobtrusively took 
 her seat. The bell rang for the course to be cleared 
 for the race of the day. 
 
 " How is Sambal?" asked Mrs Nixon. 
 
 The merchant shook his head. 
 
 " She won't do any good," he replied. " I saw her 
 at exercise a couple of days ago. She wasn't moving 
 at all well." 
 
 " I've backed her for a place," said Mrs Nixon. 
 
 " You'll lose your money, I'm afraid." 
 
 "You deserve to, I think," said Mrs Templeton. 
 "You're plunging." 
 
 "With my neuralgia anyone would plunge," said 
 Mrs Nixon, calmly. " It makes me, as I told you, into
 
 244 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 a sort of prophet. I saw Sambal in a dream last 
 night. She came in second. The jockey was very 
 small and almost black.." 
 
 " You're right in that," Maud said. " Father decided 
 two days ago to let Ahmat ride her." 
 
 " That disposes of the second place," remarked Mrs 
 Templeton, maliciously. " Perhaps you can tell us 
 which horse will be first?" 
 
 " Ah," replied Mrs Nixon, slowly. " I've backed 
 Old Joke, as you .know ; but perhaps I am foolish. . . . 
 There seems to be trouble over there," she added, 
 nodding. 
 
 The course was now very nearly clear. A row of 
 Sikh policemen in khaki and turbans were walking 
 down it. Chinamen scavengers appeared, picking up 
 paper and banana skins. The crowd were retiring in 
 an orderly manner behind the rails. A small queerly- 
 dressed native leading a camel was declining to follow 
 them, so it seemed. He was insisting, as his gesticu- 
 lations told the onlookers, on being allowed to pass 
 the line of police and walk alone up the course. His 
 demeanour was one of oriental dignity. Nevertheless 
 he showed signs of excitement as he talked to a pair 
 of towering Sikh policemen. To those in the stand 
 his attitude seemed almost magisterial. 
 
 A stout man in a grey helmet, sitting in the front 
 row in a line with the Templetons, suddenly stood 
 up and looked hard at the group on the now almost 
 empty course through a pair of field glasses. 
 
 " That's my camel that was stolen a fortnight ago ! " 
 he said loudly. " I'm certain of it." 
 
 He climbed laboriously over the railing and ran
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 245 
 
 across the course. 
 
 " The Head of the Botanical Gardens, a most ex- 
 citable man," whispered Mrs Templeton. 
 
 " But he's not so excited as the policemen," said 
 Maud. " Look at them beating the camel driver. 
 They'll kill him." 
 
 'The brutes!" observed Mrs Templeton. "But 
 they've stopped now. They seem ashamed of them- 
 selves. Look! They're leading the camel away. 
 They've hurt the little man. See how he limps." 
 
 "It's Mr M'Whizzle," said Maud, suddenly. "I 
 thought I knew him. Oh, isn't he ridiculous ! " 
 
 The well-known Chief of the Secret Police, stopping 
 for a moment to gravely salaam to the Governor, 
 limped towards the grand stand on the arm of the 
 solicitous Head of the Botanical Gardens, and stood 
 leaning against the rail within a yard of the Temple- 
 tons, panting heavily. The grand stand buzzed with 
 excitement. 
 
 " Well, of all the men ! " muttered Mrs Nixon. 
 " I'm certain it's my camel," the Head of the 
 Botanical Gardens could be overheard saying. " It 
 was stolen a fortnight ago or er longer." 
 
 " But, my dear man," M'Whizzle told him, with a 
 supercilious laugh, " I've had it months. Ah ! ... 
 How do you do ! " 
 
 His roving eyes ha'd fallen on Mrs Templeton. He 
 salaamed deeply. " Out of the mouths of babes and 
 sucklings, my good botanical friend," he said to the 
 stout man. "This lady will corroborate what I say 
 about the camel. Haven't I had the animal months, 
 Mrs Templeton?"
 
 246 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 " Certainly you've had it a long time," replied the 
 lady. 
 
 The excited and mystified Head of the Botanical 
 Gardens, after saying he would have the matter looked 
 into, jumped the rails and resumed his seat. 
 
 Lochinvar M'Whizzle, with a meaning glance at 
 Maud, shrugged his shoulders expressively. 
 
 "I had to come up here to get further evidence 
 about er the death of your recent loss," he said to 
 Mr Templeton. " I will not mention names in 
 public." 
 
 The listening spectators tried to put on a disinter- 
 ested air. 
 
 " You witnessed my treatment at the hands of a 
 brutal constabulary ? " 
 
 Mrs Templeton nodded, sympathetically. 
 
 " But why did you drag in the camel ? " asked Mrs 
 Nixon. 
 
 M'Whizzle looked at her with the air of a man who 
 has just noticed the presence of a black beetle. " My 
 good Mrs Nixon," he drawled, " after all, I am not an 
 inhumane man. Camels want fresh air like other 
 animals. A run in the afternoon does one's pet camel 
 all the good in the world, just as it does one of your 
 dogs. I was taking my camel out for a run." 
 
 " In your opinion our recent loss, Old Joke, is dead, 
 I suppose ? " asked Mrs Nixon, bluntly. 
 
 " Hush," said Lochinvar, holding up a warning 
 hand. " No names please." 
 
 " I'll bet you an even pony," said the incorrigible 
 old lady in a low voice, " that Old Joke is not dead." 
 
 The Chief of the Secret Police disdained reply, and
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 247 
 
 allowed his amused glance to travel over the grand 
 stand. 
 
 But all eyes were now fixed on the course, where 
 the runners were already filing out for the canter past. 
 The Rajah's filly led oft", going very freely and looking 
 well. No hint of lameness there ! Next came Bidusta, 
 the third favourite, a small delicate roan, whose 
 handling by his joc.key came in for adverse comment. 
 The big bay owned by the Chinese kongsi was very 
 well liked. Sambal passed in dead silence. And then 
 from the paddock there suddenly came the sound of 
 cheering, deepening very quickly into an excited 
 roar. 
 
 Twenty yards behind the last entrant, sweeping 
 grandly down the course, there cantered into view a 
 magnificent chestnut, a horse obviously in a different 
 class from those which had gone before. 
 
 " Now, Mr M'Whizzle, before it's too late," chaffed 
 the old lady. " Only a pony ! Just an even pony ! " 
 
 "Old Joke!" muttered a hundred voices. "Old 
 Joke!" 
 
 " Good Lord ! " ejaculated Mr Templeton, his eyes 
 starting. " How's he got here ? I never knew ! " 
 
 He half rose in his seat, his race-glasses glued to 
 his eyes. 
 
 "Who is that on him?" he demanded. "I don't 
 seem to know him." 
 
 " Podd, of course," said Mrs Nixon. " Your best 
 jockey. Mr Podd of Borneo." 
 
 The big chestnut was opposite the stand. As he 
 cantered by, the joc.key, his yellow jacket swelling in 
 the breeze, turned and gave those on the stand a
 
 248 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 broad grin. Moving magnificently, Old Joke swept 
 down to the post. 
 
 " But I can't understand it," gasped the merchant. 
 " I feel as if I'd been played with. . . . You didn't know 
 anything about it, did you?" he demanded. 
 
 Maud and her mother shook their heads with em- 
 phasis. 
 
 " It's Mr M'Whizzle's doing ! He discovered him, 
 and brought him here along with the camel. But he's 
 too modest to say so," declared Mrs Nixon. 
 
 The Chief of the Secret Police gave her an angry 
 stare. 
 
 " Never mind how Old Joke got here," said the old 
 lady, all excitement. " Let's look at him win the race. 
 Can you see, Mr M'Whizzle? Come and stand here 
 by me. I want you to notice most particularly how 
 a horse just escaped from the stomach of a crocodile 
 can run. ... Ah ! They're off well ! " 
 
 A muffled roar came from the distance. The race 
 had begun, and from the beginning it was clear that 
 there was only one horse in it. Archibald and an 
 outsider got away first. Old Joke was going at a 
 great pace with a clear lead from Bohong, Sambal 
 was third, and the Rajah's filly last. At seven fur- 
 longs Sambal had given way to Bidusta, the Rajah's 
 filly had crept up to fourth place, and Old Joke was 
 a clear twenty lengths ahead. 
 
 Mrs Nixon put down her glasses. 
 
 " It's a procession," she remarked, triumphantly. 
 " I knew it would be. Maud, where are your glasses ? 
 You haven't any? Take mine, then." 
 
 " Thank you," said Maud, gratefully. " He is riding
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 249 
 
 well," she remarked after a moment. ..." I only hope 
 he isn't taking it too easily. He is sitting up in the 
 saddle." 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed the old lady. " The fool ! Let 
 me look, Maud." 
 
 She took the glasses. A sudden roar came from the 
 crowd further down the course. 
 
 "Old Joke has stumbled," said the merchant, ex- 
 sitedly. " There was a man out on the course, running 
 at him and waving." 
 
 " It's a Kling," cried Mrs Nixon. " Those Klings 
 are determined to prevent him winning. Foul play 
 if ever there was ! What are your men doing, Mr 
 M'Whizzle? Oh, you police !" 
 
 " He's down ! " almost shouted Mr Templeton. 
 " Podd's badly thrown. . . . No, he isn't, he's up. . . . 
 They've pulled the Kling off the course. . . . Podd's 
 got Old Joke up. . . . Good work, Podd! By Jove, 
 he's mounted . . ." 
 
 " I never saw anyone mount like that," said Mrs 
 Nixon. 
 
 " Is he on ? " asked Maud, anxiously. 
 
 " On, yes, of course he is," said Mrs Nixon, " and 
 going strong, too. . ... He vaulted on Old Joke like a 
 trick rider. Put his whip between his teeth and never 
 worried about the stirrups. . . . He'll win yet ! " 
 
 " He can't," said Mr Templeton. " He's about five 
 lengths behind." 
 
 " I agree with you," said Lochinvar, looking not 
 ill-pleased. " It's er in sporting parlance, 5 to 1 
 against him winning." 
 
 " He'll win," said the old lady. " I'm willing to do
 
 250 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 business with Mr M'Whizzle on that basis, 5 to 1 in 
 thousands of dollars. Come, now, you're a sporting 
 man!" 
 
 " I never bet, madam," said the Chief of the Secret 
 Police, curtly. 
 
 Maud took her excited eyes off the horses for an 
 instant, and glanced at Mrs Nixon. The old lady, 
 rather pale, was standing erect without the sign of a 
 tremor. Her air was confident enough to give anyone 
 courage. 
 
 " Never say die," Maud heard her mutter, as, her 
 eyes glued to her glasses, she followed the distant 
 tiny figures. " He has made up two lengths, and 
 Bohong's tiring. Bidusta's creeping up now." 
 
 Maud saw the small bright shapes coming round 
 the turn. It seemed to her that Archibald was riding 
 magnificently. He was now not more than three 
 lengths behind Bidusta, and had already drawn level 
 with the Rajah's filly, who was being tailed off rapidly. 
 Could he still have a chance? It looked to her as if 
 he could. And evidently the crowd were beginning 
 to think as she did, for the low, half-disappointed 
 murmur was swelling into a more hopeful roar. 
 Bohong had now dropped behind Bidusta. Sambal, 
 going strongly, was drawing level. What a task for 
 Old Joke ! It seemed almost hopeless ! . . . But he was 
 creeping up. . . . Maud's heart was going like a 
 hammer. She wanted Old Joke to win more than 
 anything in the world. And so she knew did three- 
 quarters of the people, on the course. And he was 
 creeping up. . . . The crowd saw it! The roar 
 deepened. On the grand stand somebody shouted
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 251 
 
 " Bidusta." A dozen voices roared back, " Not 
 he!" 
 
 They were coming at a rare pace down the straight. 
 The yellow jacket had drawn level with Bohong. 
 Old Joke did not falter. He was running straight 
 as an arrow, and more than that, he ran as if he knew 
 how much depended on his winning. Podd seemed 
 to be getting every ounce out of his mount. He had 
 not yet used his whip. A minute later he began to 
 
 do so. He was making his effort And succeeding 
 
 too! 
 
 The horses came on, closer, closer. Maud heard 
 the roaring of the crowd, the pounding of the hoofs 
 as the horses flashed by. She caught a close glimpse 
 of Archibald's gleaming excited face and the gallant 
 Old Joke's outstretched head and wide open nostrils. 
 He was second, only a neck behind the leader Bidusta. 
 Would he manage it? 
 
 " Bidusta ! Bidusta ! ' came a shout from the stands. 
 And then a delighted roar, it seemed to Maud from 
 everywhere. " Old Joke ! Old Joke ! " 
 
 " He's done it," she heard Mrs Nixon say, in a tone 
 of relief. 
 
 A dozen assailed Mr Templeton with outstretched 
 hands. . . . She felt herself pushed out on to the course, 
 one of a surging crowd whose centre was Old Joke 
 and Archibald Podd. There was her father leading 
 the horse in, there were Nelly and Nixon shaking 
 hands, and presently she was shaking hands too 
 with the joyous Archibald. And then came a vision 
 of the triumphant jockey being embraced by Nelly, 
 Nelly's mother, and an eager multitude of delightful
 
 252 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 dark-eyed girls, understood to be relations of the Ryan 
 family. 
 
 She was whirled into the paddock with the rest. . . . 
 She remembered a most triumphant luncheon, a de- 
 lighted Alec sitting next to her, the popping of many 
 corks. . . .
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE rubber estate people were giving their ball, and 
 half Singapore was in attendance. It had come in 
 launches that now lay at anchor off the wharf while 
 their owners danced on the manager's big veranda; 
 and not a man or woman among the guests com- 
 plained of mosquitoes. 
 
 From the seat in the garden on which Maud and 
 Alec Nixon sat, the sound of the string band playing 
 a two-step came, but not too loudly. The lamps of 
 the bright veranda threw a broad beam of light on 
 the path beside them, across which flitted grotesque 
 shadows of dancing figures. A full moon cast a silver 
 drugget over the quiet strip of water that lay between 
 them and twinkling Singapore. 
 
 " But I've told you how it happened so often 
 before," complained Alec. 
 
 " Never by moonlight ! Besides, I want to hear 
 about it again. It sounds so very wonderful. To 
 think; that, unknown to us all, you managed things 
 so well, and have made us all so desperately well 
 off." 
 
 " You must thank Podd for that Good Podd, dear-r 
 lady!" 
 
 "Mr Podd of Borneo!" 
 
 "Well, if he had not come from Borneo, I don't 
 253
 
 254 MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 suppose we should ever have found Old Joke. The 
 fellow's got a scent like a greyhound. He took nie 
 down to the reserve at night and, dark as it was, he 
 led me through the woods straight as an arrow. How 
 he did it I don't know. Apparently he has some 
 method of marking the trees, used by the Borneo 
 Dyaks. He hid me behind some bushes, and crawled 
 up to the hut himself I shall have to take you to see 
 that hut some day. You'd never dream that any place 
 could be so well hidden." 
 
 " I'm 'dying to see it ! " Maud murmured. 
 
 " Well, after a while, Podd came back. You can't 
 hear him move in the woods. He goes over the 
 ground like a Red Indian in moccassins. There were 
 two bottles of square-face in the hut, so he reported, 
 and beside each lay a greasy Kling, dead to the 
 world." 
 
 "What, asleep?" 
 
 " Yes, the sleep of intoxication," laughed Alec. 
 
 " Of course that made everything simple," he went 
 on. " By Jove, if they ever try and bring ' prohibition' 
 into vogue in Singapore, they'll have to do it over my 
 dead body after this. . . . Well, we just walked in, 
 led away Old Joke, and marched him through side 
 streets down to the wharf. Not many people were 
 about, it was late by that time. So we did not attract 
 attention. We walked Old Joke aboard my cousin's 
 launch, and locked him in the saloon. And next 
 morning, bright and early, as is my custom, off we 
 all went to the estate, where, as you know, my cousin 
 and I put Podd through his facings every day, and 
 licked him into shape. He did not take much licking.
 
 MR PODD OF BORNEO 255 
 
 He'll be another Fred Archer, if he likes to keep in 
 training, will that fellow ! " 
 
 " So you and Archibald Podd simply walked down 
 to the hut in the reserve, found the Kling guard dead 
 asleep, marched Old Joke on board, and brought 
 him over here?" 
 
 " Yes," said Alec. " Nothing very heroic." 
 
 "Who wants to be heroic? I'm tired of heroes," 
 said Maud. " They're too strenuous for this hot 
 country." 
 
 " Lochinvar M'Whizzle has certainly knocked him- 
 self up," remarked Alec. " The doctor says he'll have 
 to take things more quietly. M'Whizzle will go 
 slower in future. See if he doesn't." 
 
 " Poor Mr M'Whizzle. I am sorry. Though I'm 
 glad the Governor censured him for what he did to 
 Ryan. And Archibald Podd? There's another hero. 
 What do you prophesy for him?" 
 
 " He," said Nixon, " will marry Nelly Ryan as 
 quickly as possible, and settle down and get as fat 
 as butter. They all do, these Eurasians." 
 
 " Sensible men ! " 
 
 " I wish somebody would help me to settle down," 
 murmured Alec, plaintively. 
 
 " Mrs Nixon has already." 
 
 "She shakes me up! Isn't she wonderful?" 
 
 " I think she's absolutely loveable," said Maud. 
 " There's nobody like her, no one ! " 
 
 " She thinks the same about you, and so do all her 
 relations." 
 
 "Oh! ... I'm glad." 
 
 " She thinks you ought to settle down. , . . And so
 
 256 . MR PODD OF BORNEO 
 
 do I," said Alec. An unaccustomed earnestness in 
 his tone did not escape her. . . . 
 
 She felt his arm round her. . . . When he spoke 
 
 again, her reply came very low And she settled 
 
 down. 
 
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 "THE SIN OF GODFREY NEIL"
 
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