CHAPTER VII.
THE PHOTOGRAPH While Baram Singh was clearing the table Ballantyne lifted the box of cheroots from the top of the bureau and held it out to Thresk.
"Will you smoke ?" Thresk, however, though he smoked had not during his stay in India acquired the taste for the cheroot; and it interested him in later times to reflect how largely he owed his entanglement in the tragic events which were to follow to that accidental distaste.

For conscious of it he had brought his pipe with him, and he now fetched it out of his pocket.
"This, if I may," he said.
"Of course." Thresk filled his pipe and lighted it, Ballantyne for his part lit a cheroot and replaced the box upon the top, close to a heavy riding-crop with a bone handle, which Thresk happened now to notice for the first time.
"Be quick!" he cried impatiently to Baram Singh, and seated himself in the swing-chair in front of the bureau, turning it so as not to have his back to Thresk at the table.

Baram Singh hurriedly finished his work and left the marquee by the passage leading to the kitchen.

Ballantyne waited with his eyes upon that passage until the grass-mat screen had ceased to move.

Then taking a bunch of keys from his pocket he stooped under the open writing-flap of the bureau and unlocked the lowest of the three drawers.