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“Show me something out of the common.” This was his querulous parrot-cry.

“Would you care to come out into the jungle sixty miles away,” I ventured, “to a place that has no English attributes, and help to shoot a notorious man-eating tiger? There is a reward of five hundred rupees for his skin. For the last two years he has devastated the country.”

“Like it!” cried Algy, suddenly, sitting erect, “why, it’s the very thing. I’ll go like a shot. I am ready to start to-night. What’s the name of the place?”

“Karwassa. This man-eater has killed, they say, more than a hundred people, and if we shoot him, we cover ourselves with glory; if we fail, we are no worse than half the regiment, and most of the station.”

Algy figuratively leapt at the idea; he was out of his chair, pacing the verandah, long ere I had ceased to speak.

“How soon could we start?”

“As soon as I obtained leave,” I replied.

“Oh, bother leave!” he retorted, impatiently.

“Still, it is a necessary precaution,” I answered. “If I go without it I shall be cashiered, and that would be a bother.”