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by Rudyard Kipling (Author)
"Can't you make it eight?" said he. "Mine is rather urgent business." "I can send your telegram within ten days if that will serve you," I said. "I couldn't trust the wire to fetch him now I think of it. It's this way. He leaves Delhi on the 23d for Bombay. That means he'll be running through Ajmir about the night of the 23d." "But I'm going into the Indian Desert," I explained. "Well and good," said he. "You'll be changing at Marwar Junction to get into Jodhpore territory - you must do that - and he'll be coming through Marwar Junction in the early morning of the 24th by the Bombay Mail. Can you be at Marwar Junction on that time? 'Twon't be inconveniencing you because I know that there's precious few pickings to be got out of these Central India States - even though you pretend to be correspondent of the Backwoodsman." "Have you ever tried that trick?" I asked.
