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PAGE 5

A Conference Of The Powers
by [?]

“You were alone when you were dealing with these men?” said Cleever, watching The Infant’s face under the palm of his hand. He was receiving new ideas, and they seemed to trouble him.

“Of course, unless you count the mosquitoes. They were nearly as big as the men. After I had to lie doggo I began to look for something to do, and I was great pals with a man called Hicksey in the Police, the best man that ever stepped on earth; a first-class man.”

Cleever nodded applause. He knew how to appreciate enthusiasm.

“Hicksey and I were as thick as thieves. He had some Burma mounted police – rummy chaps, armed with sword and Snider carbine. They rode punchy Burma ponies, with string stirrups, red cloth saddles, and red bell-rope headstalls. Hicksey used to lend me six or eight of them when I asked him – nippy little devils, keen as mustard. But they told their wives too much, and all my plans got known, till I learned to give false marching orders overnight, and take the men to quite a different village in the morning. Then we used to catch the simple daku before breakfast, and made him very sick. It’s a ghastly country on the Hlinedatalone; all bamboo jungle, with paths about four feet wide winding through it. The daku knew all the paths, and potted at us as we came round a corner; but the mounted police knew the paths as well as the daku, and we used to go stalking ’em in and out. Once we flushed ’em, the men on the ponies had the advantage of the men on foot. We held all the country absolutely quiet for ten miles round, in about a month. Then we took Boh Na-ghee, Hicksey and I and the civil officer. That was a lark!”

“I think I am beginning to understand a little,” said Cleever. “It was a pleasure to you to administer and fight?”

“Rather! There’s nothing nicer than a satisfactory little expedition, when you find your plans fit together, and your information’s teek – correct, you know, and the whole sub-chiz – I mean, when everything works out like formulae on a blackboard. Hicksey had all the information about the Boh. He had been burning villages and murdering people right and left, and cutting up Government convoys, and all that. He was lying doggo in a village about fifteen miles off, waiting to get a fresh gang together. So we arranged to take thirty mounted police, and turn him out before he could plunder into our newly-settled villages. At the last minute, the civil officer in our part of the world thought he’d assist at the performance.”

“Who was he?” said Nevin.

“His name was Dennis,” said The Infant slowly. “And we’ll let it stay so. He’s a better man now than he was then.”

“But how old was the civil power?” said Cleever. “The situation is developing itself.”

“He was about six-and-twenty, and he was awf’ly clever. He knew a lot of things, but I don’t think he was quite steady enough for dacoit-hunting. We started overnight for Boh Na-ghee’s village, and we got there just before morning, without raising an alarm. Dennis had turned out armed to his teeth – two revolvers, a carbine, and all sorts of things. I was talking to Hicksey about posting the men, and Dennis edged his pony in between us, and said, ‘What shall I do? What shall I do? Tell me what to do, you fellows.’ We didn’t take much notice; but his pony tried to bite me in the leg, and I said, ‘Pull out a bit, old man, till we’ve settled the attack.’ He kept edging in, and fiddling with his reins and his revolvers, and saying, ‘Dear me! Dear me! Oh, dear me! What do you think I’d better do?’ The man was in a deadly funk, and his teeth were chattering.”