The Adventures of Kathlyn

Winnie gurgled her delight, but her sister searched her father's eyes.

She did not quite like the way he said those words. His voice lacked

its usual heartiness and spontaneity.

"Where did you get this medal, father?" she asked.

[Illustration: Where did you get this medal?] "That's what I started out to tell you."

"Were you afraid we might wish to wear it or have it made over?"

laughed Winnie, who never went below the surface of things.

"No. The truth is, I had almost forgotten it. But the preparations

for India recalled it to mind. It represents a royal title conferred

on me by the king of Allaha. You have never been to India, Kit.

Allaha is the name we hunters give that border kingdom. Some day

England will gobble it up; only waiting for a good excuse."

"What big thing did you do?" demanded Kathlyn, her eyes still filled

with scrutiny.

"What makes you think it was big?" jestingly.

"Because," she answered seriously, "you never do anything but big

things. As the lion is among beasts, you are among men."

"Good lord!" The colonel reached embarrassedly for his pipe, lighted

it, puffed a few minutes, then laid it down. "India is full of strange

tongues and strange kingdoms and principalities. Most of them are

dominated by the British Raj, some are only protected, while others do

about as they please. This state"--touching the order--"does about as

it did since the days of the first white rover who touched the shores

of Hind. It is small, but that signifies nothing; for you can brew a

mighty poison in a small pot. Well, I happened to save the old king's

life."

"I knew it would be something like that," said Kathlyn. "Go on. Tell

it all."

The colonel had recourse to his pipe again. He smoked on till the coal

was dead. The girls waited patiently. They knew that his silence

meant that he was only marshaling the events in their chronological

order.

"The king was a kindly old chap, simple, yet shrewd, and with that

slumbrous oriental way of accomplishing his ends, despite all

obstacles. Underneath this apparent simplicity I discovered a grim

sardonic humor. Trust the Oriental for always having that packed away

under his bewildering diplomacy. He was all alone in the world. He

was one of those rare eastern potentates who wasn't hampered by

parasitical relatives. By George, the old boy could have given his

kingdom, lock, stock and barrel, to the British government, and no one

could say him nay. There was a good deal of rumor the last time I was

there that when he died England would step in actually. The old boy

gave me leave to come and go as I pleased, to hunt where and how I

would. I had a mighty fine collection. There are tigers and leopards

and bears and fat old pythons, forty feet long. Of course, it isn't

the tiger country that Central India is, but the brutes you find are

bigger. I have about sixty beasts there now, and that's mainly why I'm

going back. Want to clean it up and ship 'em to Hamburg, where I've a

large standing order. I'm going first to Ceylon, for some elephants."