He ought to be some mandarin of mark.

As soon as I knew it I would send a telegram to the _Twentieth Century_.
While I was looking at this van, a new passenger came up and examined it with no less curiosity than I did.
This traveler was a fine-looking man of about forty, wearing gracefully the costume of the richer Mongols, a tall fellow, with rather a gloomy look, a military moustache, tawny complexion, and eyes that never shut.
"Here is a splendid fellow," I said to myself.

"I don't know if he will turn out the hero of the drama I am in search of, but, anyhow, I will number him twelve in my traveling troupe." This leading star, I soon learned from Popof, bore the name of Faruskiar.

He was accompanied by another Mongol, of inferior rank, of about the same age, whose name was Ghangir.

As they looked at the van being attached to the tail of the train in front of the luggage van, they exchanged a few words.