That was the kind of talk that went straight to his soldier heart.

He loved a man who held to his point in the teeth of odds.

The odds, it seemed to him, were awfully against Cunningham.
"So was thy father," he said slowly.

"My cousin said thou wast thy father's son!" "I require an answer by the time that the Sikh has finished eating," said Cunningham.

"Otherwise, Alwa-sabib, I shall regret the necessity of foregoing further hospitality at your hands." "Bismillah! Am I servant here or master ?" wondered Alwa, loud enough for all his men to hear.