that I.O.U. and your cheque for five pounds." But as the boy began to write, muttering thanks, he asked him a question abruptly. "You're a good man on a horse, I've heard? of poker, "I'll find Parker, and thank him properly for allowing me to pay in instalments." He went out, and the three men summoned the steward, addressing him by the generic name of George, and ordered a "I'm awfully keen," the boy final round of drinks. told him, surprised. "So, for some unknown reason, am I," the other replied. "I long to ride well. But where horses are concerned I've neither nerve nor knowledge. Would you advise me to buy a red coat, subscribe to a fashionable pack, and go out hunting this winter?" The boy pushed a cheque and a paper across the table, and his voice rang comfortable and assured. "So," said Blackie, a rubber planter from the F.M.S., “that is Edward Parker, the Gum King, being kindly. I rather like his style." "I'll admit," Hemming, who was going home on pension from the I.C.S., declared, "that he treated that young fool generously. Children oughtn't to gamble. But that doesn't alter the fact that the man's a scoundrel, a damned scoundrel. He laid the foundations "I should advise you not of his gummy fortune by thievto think of it," he said. ing, simple thieving and worse." "Good," the other man answered, collecting the papers and putting them in his pocket. "So you've got a streak of sense in you. But, unless your parents happen to be both rich and foolish, remember that what I am about horses you are about gambling. Neither nerves nor know ledge!" "In view of the fact that your career is over," Jarrold, a lawyer, laughed, "we'll excuse your want of charity. The descent from the seats of the heaven-born to a villa in Surrey, probably without servants, is enough to embitter any man. As a matter of cold fact Parker is a strictly, I might say a meticulously, honest man.' He smiled at the boy, nodded to the other three men, and went out on deck. The sub- But as Hemming commenced altern flushed again, hesitated, an indignant denial, the stewthen asked a question. ard, who, being a bar steward "Did I deserve that? he aboard ship, was known as demanded. George, switched off half the lights and called time. The three men protested as a matter of principle against his action, finished their drinks, and went out on deck. you the truth about Parker. I happen to know it.' 66 Then," Hemming stated, "you will merely be confirming my statement that the man is a common thief and worse." Shall I?" Jarrold laughed. And the three men went to their cabins, undressed, and fetched up their beds. Lying side by side near to the rails, looking on the infinite beauty of tropic seas in moonlight, they talked through much of Leaning over the rails, they looked out on the tumbled sea and forgot to talk. The moon was high, shining on moving hills and valleys of wind-swept water; but a quarter of a mile ahead of the vessel it gleamed on an ocean as calm as a mirror. They approached the edge of the monsoon, ruled like a line across the seas, and they waited silently. The wind blustered round them, shaking their thin clothing about their limbs, whistling that hot night. And two of and whimpering throughout the ship. Then abruptly it ceased and the liner shivered, steadied herself, and moved quietly forward through untroubled waters, with the bluster and the violence and the noise behind. Having passed out of the area of the monsoon, having left behind them the region of clean winds born of the sea, the three men immediately complained of the heat. Hemming moistened a finger with his tongue and, holding it up, turned it about. "Damn!" he declared, "a following wind. No air. It'll be impossible to sleep in a cabin through the Red Sea if this lasts." "Why try?" Blackie asked. "I'm going to hump my bed on deck forthwith." "Sound scheme," Jarrold Jarrold agreed. "I'll join you. But I'll go one better than that. I'll yarn you to slumber as well. Hemming is an unbeliever, nourished on official scandal and prejudice. I'll tell them heard for the first time of the real foundation of those rumours which circulated about the man who had played poker with the subaltern. James Parker, father of Edward, the Gum King, was the son of an English sergeantmajor in a line regiment. The sergeant-major's time expired when his battalion was at Poona. He had married an English girl three years before going on pension, a nursemaid who liked India, so he remained in the East and got a job as a club steward. Their only child, James, was, therefore, country born, and he grew up in complete ignorance of England, but with a knowledge of the land of his birth which should clearly have made him useful in the administration of that land. that land. In due course, to the considerable satisfaction of the ex-sergeant-major and his wife, James entered the Provincial Service of the Public Works Department of India, with, it was assumed by his parents, no impediment in the way of a great career. The boy was intelligent, hard-working, and level-headed. It was, his father assured his acquaintance, merely a matter of time before he would be transferred to the Imperial Service, and then the highest posts in India and Burma would be open to him. It was, his mother assured her acquaintance, not quite so long a time as her husband imagined, for it was an absolute certainty that her boy's outstanding merits would earn him his transfer before others of the same seniority. It was, James Parker assured both his parents, just as short a time as he could make it, for he had not the slightest intention of being stuck in the Provincial Service a day longer than he could help; and as far as ambition went he was made of it. The ex-sergeantmajor and his wife were still in the virulent stage of introducing into their conversation the phrases, "My son in the P.W.D.," or "My boy in Government Service," when plague came to their station, and within a week of its coming they were both dead. James Parker, with eleven months' service, took stock of his position. He was an orphan without a relation in the world with whom he was even on corresponding terms; he was wholly dependent on his par for a living, and could not conceivably expect outside assistance if he got into financial difficulties; he was of pure English stock, but he had never seen England, and he recognised that it would be a matter of years before he could hope to make acquaintance with what he called his native land; also he was the son of a warrant officer in the Army, and he intended to compete on equal terms with the men to whom such things as commissions were an ordinary start, not the reward of long and exceptional service. He did not make the mistake of imagining that the task that he had set himself was particularly easy. But he had youth, good looks, pride in himself and his ability, and a decent leavening of prudence. He set about his job with enthusiasm; and when his parents died he swore to himself that he would not go back on them, that he would get his transfer to the Imperial Service within the shortest possible time allowed by the rules of his employment. After much thought and considerable discussion with his friends he applied for and obtained appointment to Burma, fancying that there his energy and ambition would have a freer run. He went to Rangoon comfortably certain that he had made a first important step. While he was employed on odd jobs at the Secretariat, pending his being sent to a district, he met Evelyn Jackson one night at the Pagoda Club, and quarrelled with him. That night he returned to his quarters definitely pleased with himself, wholly unaware that he had made a second and more important step. That he should be asked to the Pagoda Club at all gave James Parker considerable satisfaction, for he realised that he had long way to go before he could hope to obtain right of entry to that haunt of the elect. That his host should have asked Evelyn Jackson to dine seemed to him a piece of sheer good-fortune. For Jack son, who had passed first into the I.C.S. in his year, who was accepted as a young man of exceptional brilliance destined to become a Governor, was a person whose acquaintance conferred distinction. That after dinner he, James Parker of the Provincial Service, P.W.D., should have been able to demonstrate beyond any possibility of doubt to the assembled company that the great young man Jackson talked drivel when he aired his views on tigershooting, seemed to him a a chance for distinction that could only come to some one favoured of fortune. So that night James Parker went from the Pagoda Club to his quarters happily, aware that he had been moderate not rude, temperate not violent, in face of crass ignorance. He remembered that General Rixlade, whose fame as a shot spread over India, had, when appealed to, backed his exposure of Jackson's ignorant assurance. But his contentment as he went to bed was misplaced "You were asking for it,' the General told him. "All the same, I can't quite see why Fuller wants to bring a fellow like that here. Provincial Service, P.W.D., they tell meand country born. Son of a warrant officer. Not quite in the picture, eh? Must drop a hint to Fuller." "I wish you would, sir,' Jackson replied with deference. "I know it's part of the age and all that. We've got to give every man his chance. That's fixed at home, and accepted as wise. But out hereits wisdom may be doubted." “May be?" a judge, joining the group, commented. “I should prefer must be." "Do you imagine the natives don't spot the spot the difference," General Rixlade declaimed. on gentlemen to rule her. She mony. He gave up all thought must go on doing it. Here of all places you've got to think of caste." "You young fellows have got to bear that in mind," General Rixlade declared with some solemnity. "When you forget it, we lose India." "I assure you, sir," Jackson answered eagerly, "that I shall never forget it.” Within a week of that conversation at the Pagoda Club James Parker was appointed to a job at Maymyo, which is the hot weather headquarters of the Government in Burma, and consequently a station where a man can attract the attention of people of importance. Rumour reached Parker that his being sent to Maymyo was in some way due to Jackson's influence. He did not really like the man, recognising patronage in his manner, but judging the appointment a distinction, he felt grateful to the person who had brought it his way. He took up his position as Assistant Civil Engineer determined that, when the hot weather came and Government House was occupied, people should be talking of the ability of the young P.W.D. man. of shooting, and was considered unsociable. Trying to balance his domestic budget, he was glad that no one had suggested that he should join the Achilles Club, the Maymyo haunt of the elect. Before the Government came up he had made other discoveries than that of the extent to which his pay would stretch. He had found out that a reputation for meanness and unsociability would spoil his chances, no matter what his professional ability might be. Also he had become aware that such places as the Pagoda and the Achilles would never offer membership to an Englishman who had never seen England. Dreams of that unknown country began to haunt him. He knew that, although he spoke its tongue, he was outside the conversation of the men and women who remembered it as home. On the eve of the arrival of the Government he came to certain carefully considered decisions. In order to win he must take risks. The strict economy which he had practised was something which he could not afford. During the hot weather season he must take his proper part in the social life of the station, giving his good looks and his youth and his natural galety a chance. Afterwards he must apply for some job which would give him the opportunity to prove his professional worth and to save A month after his arrival at Maymyo, long before the great ones of the earth contemplated moving from Rangoon, James Parker knew that his Provincial Service pay would not cover his expenses in such a station. He prae fised severe denemy, ard earned a reputation for parsi- money, so that, before his |