“Look for it there,” he said, “under mountains of rock and dirt and sand.  Look for it there!  And who is this white man who says the holy one is false?”

“I say it, you scoundrel!” cried the colonel, advancing; but Bruce restrained him, seeing that the situation had taken an unpleasant and sinister trend.

“Patience, Colonel; just a little diplomacy,” he urged.

“But the man lies!”

“That may be, but just at present there seem to be more men standing back of him than back of our chief here.  We have no way of getting a warning to Ahmed.  Wait!”

“Jackal,” spoke the chief wrathfully, “thou liest!”

“Ah! thou hast grown too fat with rule.”

“Ay!” cried the men back of the mutinous one.

“Sahib,” said the chief, without losing any of his natural dignity, “the man has betrayed me.  I see the lust of gold in their eyes.  Evil presage.  But you have saved the life of my child and mine, and I will throw my strength with you.”

“Father, can’t you see?” asked Kathlyn.

“See what?”

“The inevitable.  It was in my heart all the way here that we should meet with disaster.  There is yet time to leave here peacefully.”

But her pleading fell upon the ears of a man who was treasure mad.  He would not listen to reason.  Ahmed could have told Kathlyn that the old guru stood back of her father, pushing, pushing.

“He is mad,” whispered Bruce, “but we can not leave him.”

“What would I do without you, John!”

From down the beach the chief’s little girl came toddling to the group of excited men.  She was clutching something in her hand.  Her father took her by the arm and pulled her back of him.  Kathlyn put her hand upon the child’s head, protectingly.  The child gazed up shyly, opened her little hand . . . and disclosed a yellow sovereign!

The argument between the chief and his mutinous followers went on.

“John,” said Kathlyn, “you speak the dialect.  I can understand only a word here and there.  But listen.  Tell the chief that all we desire is to be permitted to depart in peace later,” she added significantly.

“What’s up?”

“The child has a coin—­a British sovereign—­in her hand.  She knows where Umballa has secreted the treasure.  Since father can not be budged from his purpose, let us try deceit.  You speak to the chief while I explain to father.”

To the chief Bruce said:  “The treasure is evidently lost.  So, after a short rest, we shall return to our caravan and depart.  We do not wish to be the cause of trouble between you and your people.”

“But, Sahib, they have the gold!”

“The false holy one doubtless gave them that before the explosion.”  Bruce laid hold of his arm in a friendly fashion apparently, but in reality as a warning.  “All we want is a slight rest in your house.  After that we shall proceed upon our journey.”