you?" Dudley had hardly dared refuse and Church, having installed a capable man behind Rao-Singh's ornamental flat-topped desk, had promptly disappeared to a more congenial and lively atmosphere.
Dudley looked with intense distaste at the mass of papers in front of him. His eyes wandered to the odd furnishings on the desk top, mostly of ivory and ebony and of fantastic design. Among them was a heavy circular disk with a handle upon it. Dudley picked this up with absent-minded curiosity. Upon its surface was the head of a glaring Bengal tiger with some words in an Indian dialect under the beast. He recalled seeing this burnt into Rao-Singh's stationery, his saddle, everything that belonged to the Hindu. It was his personal seal and the follow seemed to take an almost fanatical pleasure in branding all his possessions with it.
Well he supposed he would have to accommodate Church and inject some sort of order into these scattered memos and bills dealing with the Fête. In search of a pencil he opened the long drawer of the desk with some hesitation. He was not surprised to find a long, businesslike looking revolver in one corner. That was quite in character. Rao-Singh would be sure to have a gun. Near it was a small picture frame lying face downward.
