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 you Punjabis any more. On my honour, we sha'n't. Martyn goes back in a few weeks; Arbuthnot 's returned already; Ellis and Clay are putting the last touches to a new feeder-line the Government 's built as relief-work. Morten's dead—he was a Bengal man, though; you wouldn't know him. 'Pon my word, you and Will—Miss Martyn—seem to have come through it as well as anybody." "Oh, how is she, by-the-way?" The voice went up and down as he spoke. "Going strong when I left her. The Roman Catholic Missions are adopting the unclaimed babies to turn them into little priests; the Basil Mission is taking some, and the mothers are taking the rest. You should hear the little beggars howl when they're sent away from William. She's pulled down a bit, but so are we all. Now, when do you suppose you'll be able to move?"

"I can't come into camp in this state. I won't," he replied pettishly.

"Well, you are rather a sight, but from what I gathered there it seemed to me they 'd be glad to see you under any conditions. I 'll look over your work here, if you like, for a couple of days, and you can pull yourself together while Faiz Ullah feeds you up." Scott could walk dizzily by the time Hawkins's inspection was ended, and he flushed all over when Jim said of his work that it was "not half bad," and volunteered, further, that he had considered Scott his right-hand man through the famine, and would feel it his duty to say as much officially. So they came back by rail to the old camp; but there