“Well,” said he, “of all the stories I have heard since I have been in the East, this is the most extraordinary.  I thought that other chap was about as unfortunate a beggar as could well be, but you beat him hollow at every turn.  Now, look here, before I go any further, I must have my friend with me.  He is the man who discovered the other chap, and I’m sure he would like to hear your story.”

Dempsey was accordingly summoned, and his wonderment was as great as his friend’s had been.

“Now,” said Gregory, when Dempsey had been made familiar with the other’s story, “what is it you want to know about the man we picked up?  Ask your questions, and we’ll do the best we can to answer them.”

In reply to Kitwater’s questions, Gregory and Dempsey described, as far as they were able, the appearance of the man whom they had helped.  The schedule was in a great measure satisfactory, but not altogether.  There were so many English in Burmah who were tall, and who had dark eyes and broad shoulders.  Little Codd leant towards his companion and taking his hand made some signs upon it.

“That’s so, my little man,” said Kitwater, nodding his head approvingly.  “You’ve hit the nail on the head.”  Then turning to Gregory, he continued, “Perhaps, sir, you don’t happen to remember whether he had any particular mark upon either of his wrists?”

Gregory replied that he had not noticed anything extraordinary, but Dempsey was by no means so forgetful?

“Of course he had,” he answered.  “I remember noticing it for the first time when I pulled him out of the Ford, and afterwards when he was in bed.  An inch or so above his left wrist he had a tattooed snake swallowing his own tail.  It was done in blue and red ink, and was as nice a piece of work as ever I have seen.”

“I thank you, sir,” Kitwater replied, “you’ve hit it exactly.  By the living thunder he’s our man after all.  Heaven bless you for the news you have given us.  It puts new life into me.  We’ll find him yet, Coddy, my boy.  I thank you, sir, again and again.”

He held out his hand, which Dempsey felt constrained to shake.  The man was trembling with excitement.

“I tell you, sir,” he continued, “that you don’t know how we loved that man.  If it takes the whole of our lives, and if we have to tramp the whole world over to do it, we’ll find him yet!”

“And if I’m not mistaken it will be a bad day for him when you do find him,” put in Gregory, who had been an observant spectator of the scene.  “Why should you hate him so?”

“How do you know that we do hate him?” Kitwater asked, turning his sightless face in the direction whence the other’s voice proceeded.  “Hate him, why should we hate him?  We have no grudge against him, Coddy, my boy, have we?”

Mr. Codd shook his head gravely.  No! they certainly had no grudge.  Nothing more was to be gleaned from them.  Whatever their connection with George Bertram or Gideon Hayle may have been, they were not going to commit themselves.  When they had inquired as to his movements after leaving Bhamo, they dropped the subject altogether, and thanking the officers for the courtesy shown them, withdrew.