Mr. Chand turned back into his office to help Nathu try to stem the attack, and Biff shoved his way among the crates, clambering over boxes, until he reached the rear exit that Mr. Chand had mentioned, but too late. Already, the back street teemed with rioters. Leering faces turned Biffs way, and eager fingers pointed at him through the bars of the rear gate.
Then hands were bashing the gate itself as others threw stones through the grillwork. Biff dodged back among the crates, realizing hopelessly that he was caught between two fires. A great crash told that the gate from the courtyard had given way; and an echoing clang from the other direction signified that the rear gate had met the same fate.
What Biffs own fate would be, the next few moments would tell. Grimly, he found himself gripping the chamois bag in his pocket, wondering if the Light of the Lama could save him now. As if in answer, something plucked his shoulder and Biff turned quickly, bringing both fists up to fight off the first of a hundred enemies.
Instead, he found himself looking into the face of Chandra, the Indian boy who had vanished from the basket back at the New India Bazaar. Above the babble of the rioters came Chandras words:
Quick! Come with me this way!
IV
Biff Vanishes
Escape from the frenzied mob seemed impossible, but at least Chandra was making a try as he pushed Biff toward a deep corner of the big storeroom, the only direction in which the invaders had not yet spread. But there was no door, no outlet, nothing except a solid stone wall beyond the last lot of crates.
Those offered no good hiding place, because the rioters already were overturning or yanking open chests and boxes which blocked them, while they kept up an excited shout, Farangi! Farangi!
That was one word that Biff knew. It meant European which in his case could be translated as American and it signified that they were definitely after Biff, though probably they would attack any Farangi that they encountered. And now, Biff and Chandra were practically in the corner, with no way to turn, except one, which looked like the worst trap of all.
Just ahead stood a tall, rather bulky cabinet shaped in the form of a pagoda, with half a dozen sides and a pair of front doors that were partly open. Quickly, Chandra thrust Biff inside and pushed him to the back, saying, In there keep quiet do not move! Then he pressed an inner door shut, and Biff found himself alone in pitch darkness, clamped in a space so tight that Chandras admonition not to move was quite unnecessary.
Chandra was gone by then, dodging off among the crates, perhaps to save his own sleek hide at the expense of Biffs. For Biff, realizing now that he was really boxed, was beginning to regret that he had trusted the Indian youth so completely. Chandra, a native himself, probably had friends among the mob. Maybe he had even told them that he would lure Biff here.
Until now, Biff had had a chance either for fight or flight. Those were both gone, and if he didnt suffocate in this bandbox, he would probably be yanked out and torn apart before he could even make a move. He was so tightly jammed, he couldnt even reach into his pocket and find the ruby, which he felt was the real cause of his misfortune, despite the soft talk Diwan Chand had given him.
Even now, Biff heard voices: Farangi we find him look there And he could hear crates being turned over close by. Next, the shouters were clambering in and out of the cabinet itself, for Biff could feel it shake and the hoarse, snarly voices were almost at his elbow. They were even pulling the pagoda out from the wall, for its platform was set on wheels; and they were literally spinning it about, with Biff still inside it, yet for some reason, they passed by him in the blackness.
More shouts, louder crashes were suddenly punctuated by pistol shots, leading to a last round of tumult that soon died. Biff heard receding footsteps; then came a deadly silence, which was even worse. Biff felt totally helpless and abandoned, unable to move, afraid even to call for help. He was drenched in perspiration, and why he hadnt suffocated or been found he couldnt understand, until a sharp click interrupted his numbed thoughts.
Biff lurched forward, found the front doors and stepped shakily from the pagoda cabinet to find one person in the dim light of the warehouse waiting, grinning, to receive him. That was Chandra.
Briefly, the Indian boy explained things.
They took a good look for you, all right, he said. Some of them did, anyway, while the rest kept fighting each other. They looked a lot, but they didnt find you or me.
But where did you go, Chandra?
Back in basket that brought me here, replied Chandra, widening his grin. He reached past a crate, pulled out the basket, squatted in it and suddenly squirmed from sight, as if the basket were bottomless. Biff looked in and was amazed to see nothing except a heap of old cloth.
Then, the heap stirred, and Chandra twisted into view from the baskets bulging sides where he had artfully coiled his thin, agile body.
So thats how you vanished! exclaimed Biff. Why, you were still in the basket when the two men took it away!
How else could I get here so quick? retorted Chandra. They are friends of Jinnah Jad, who show up with basket at the right time. This godown is where Jinnah Jad keeps all his tricks, like the new pagoda he built to make people vanish. So I put you there.
And I was thinking
Biff cut himself short, but Chandra picked him up.
You think maybe the big ruby made you invisible, declared Chandra, as it is supposed to do. But no, it was the pagoda trick. It hid you, the basket hid me.
Biff was cooler now, and he felt an actual shudder as he looked around at the wreckage and saw some silent human figures lying near the gate to the courtyard. Otherwise, the warehouse was deserted, except for Biff and Chandra.
But where did they all go, Chandra? Biff asked.
You heard shooting? returned Chandra. That was the police. They came to help Diwan Chand. Lucky they didnt use tear gas, which they do a lot. We would have gotten it, too.
Chandra was looking around at the broken boxes. He saw one that interested him and beckoned Biff that way.
We must get out before police come back and ask us to be witnesses, declared Chandra. But the people who are after the ruby will be watching for you. So you must wear other clothes like these.
Chandra was picking some native garments from those that had been dumped from an overturned chest. Studying Biff, Chandra noted the deep tan that Biff had acquired during his long voyage on the Northern Star.
Your face is dark enough, decided Chandra, but your light hair will have to be hidden. So we will make you into a Sikh. A Sikh always wears a turban. That will fool everyone.
Soon, Biff was attired in a costume that made him feel top-heavy. It consisted of shorts, shirt, and jacket, and a huge turban, which completely covered Biffs ears as well as his head, after Chandra helped him wrap it. They bundled up Biffs clothes along with some other garments and went out by the rear gate.
It was fortunate that both were in native garb, because Biff could sense that eyes were watching them as they followed the street to the market place. Chandra knew it too, for he said, Dont look around. They will suspect us if you do.
There were natives in the market place, gathered in little clusters, discussing the recent riot. They glanced at the boys as they passed, but that was all. Chandra gave a pleased chuckle, then added cautiously, It looks good now, but still we play it safe. We go the long way, past the thana.
There were natives in the market place, gathered in little clusters, discussing the recent riot. They glanced at the boys as they passed, but that was all. Chandra gave a pleased chuckle, then added cautiously, It looks good now, but still we play it safe. We go the long way, past the thana.
By thana, Chandra meant police headquarters, a place that suspicious characters would avoid. After passing it, the boys were satisfied that they were not being followed, so they doubled back to the New India Bazaar, where they saw Li and Kamuka studying the passersby from the doorway of a sporting goods shop.
It was Biffs move now. He eased up to Li, tapped him on the shoulder, and said, Salaam, Sahib. Li turned and blinked puzzled at the face beneath the turban until Biff could no longer restrain a grin.
Biff! exclaimed Li. But where and why
We cant talk here, interposed Biff. Meet me around the corner and bring Kamuka.
Chandra was with Biff when the other boys arrived. After introducing the Indian youth, Biff said:
I must go to New Delhi. If Chandra can go with me, it is up to him to decide who can accompany us.
I can go, Chandra assured him, and Kamuka, too. But not Li. He turned to the Hawaiian youth. Too many people saw you with Biff while you were watching Jinnah Jad make jadoo. You might be recognized, one because of the other.
Before Li could even show the disappointment that he felt, Biff softened the situation.
Somebody will have to go up to Darjeeling, he reminded his friend, to tell the family where Ive gone. Canceling those extra plane reservations and handling our luggage is a tough job, too. It looks like youre elected, Li.
Li not only was elected; he did his job well. He went to the Grand Hotel and returned by taxi, rejoining the group at a restaurant that Chandra had specified. Li had canceled the air reservations without difficulty; he had brought hiking packs for Biff and Kamuka, and he had arranged for shipment of the excess baggage.
After a substantial meal, Li returned to the hotel by cab, to catch the Darjeeling plane. The other boys boarded a big bus for Howrah, across the river. Biff and Kamuka looked down from the tremendous cantilever span and viewed the muddy Hooghly, hoping to spot the Northern Star moored in the dim distance. They were talking about it in English, unfortunately when Chandra hissed for silence.
They realized then that they were an odd group as it was too odd to be using English as a common language. Biff, whose features didnt properly match his Sikhs costume; Kamuka, who might have come from an upcountry tribe, but was wearing European clothes; Chandra, who with his dhoti and jacket, looked like a jadoo wallahs boy, which was exactly what he was, and therefore the most outlandish of the trio.
In short, they were attracting too much attention. Biff and Kamuka promptly subsided. Biff, particularly, felt that he should show some dignity, so he did, by looking squarely at the other passengers, until he caught the eye of a distinguished-looking man across the aisle.
The man had a large beard and a huge turban, which marked him as a Sikh, and a genuine one. He was studying Biff with sharp eyes that continued their piercing probe until the bus reached Howrah Station. Then, as they were stepping from the bus, the bearded Sikh suddenly spoke to Biff in what was their own common language, except that Biff couldnt understand a word of it.
All that saved Biff was a surge of the crowd, with people pushing one way, then another, cutting him off from the bearded Sikh. Next, Biff was on the outskirts of the milling throng, and Chandra was yanking him away, along with Kamuka.
Thanks, Chandra! Biff gasped. If you hadnt dragged me out of that jam, the Sikh would have known I was a fake
That wasnt why! returned Chandra. That wouldnt have bothered us. Maybe youre a fake, but hes a bigger one. I saw his beard close enough to know.
Biff looked back and saw that Chandra was right. Caught in the crowd, the man with the big turban wasnt trying to follow the three boys; in fact, he couldnt even see them. The reason was that his false beard had been pulled up over his eyes, and he was madly trying to straighten it.
Hand in his pocket, Biff was gripping the packet that he had transferred from his own clothes, wondering if the Light of the Lama again had saved him from an enemy!
V
Danger at Dawn
Right then, Biffs one hope was that he and his two companions could lose themselves in another and bigger crowd and thus dodge the disguised stranger who was so intent upon following them.
They couldnt have chosen a better place than the Howrah Station. It seemed five times bigger than any other railway station Biff had ever seen, and it contained ten times as many people. The afternoon had reached its peak of stifling heat, so they had come in here and sprawled over the acres of cool marble floors in preference to the Calcutta sidewalks.
The boys had to step around prostrate bodies or clamber over them, as did hundreds of other travelers who were thronging the great depot. Practically all of those travelers were natives, and many of them were carrying huge bundles that contained most of their worldly possessions.
Chandra explained that many of Calcuttas three million citizens were constantly on the move, due to lack of food or jobs; but that as fast as they left town, others poured in to replace them. He added that the population was still shifting between India and Pakistan, which accounted for more travel, particularly since the East Pakistan border was so near Calcutta. He also mentioned that many were pilgrims bound for Benares and other places holy to Hindu cults.
While the boys picked their way through the immense station, Chandra pointed out examples of each group. He also called attention to occasional Europeans and well-dressed Indians, including Hindus of high caste.
Those few, declared Chandra, go first- or second-class. Always, some talk English and ask too much about everybodys business. I know, because I have gone second-class with Jinnah Jad. So we will go third-class and talk just to each other.
That satisfied Biff and Kamuka. It wasnt a matter of saving money, for they had pooled their cash and had more than enough to travel in luxury, with Chandra included. But getting to New Delhi unnoticed was essential, and the train trip, which required more than twenty-four hours, was the sort that promised complications, so the more they avoided, the better.
Chandra had a bright idea on that score, too. Biff gave him enough money to buy three third-class tickets, but when Chandra rejoined the other boys, he returned half the cash.
I only buy tickets halfway, he stated, so nobody will know we are going to New Delhi. They will think maybe we are going to Benares or Allahabad, but instead we will go on to a little village where my uncle lives and start again from there.
Youre the boss of this expedition, Chandra, Biff assured him. Anything that will cover our trail is a good idea.
Breaking the trip also seemed a good idea when Biff saw the accommodations that the third-class carriages offered. Biff had been afraid that he might be noticed on the station platform, the way he had been on the bus, but that worry soon was over. The platform was thicker with milling humanity than the station itself. People would have been pushed onto the track, if the train hadnt been there to receive them.
Many were crowding into first- and second-class compartments, only to be pushed out and ordered back to where they belonged, in third class. Amid the commotion, Chandra found one third-class compartment that looked full, but wasnt, because the occupants had simply spread their luggage in a haphazard way. Chandra began piling them together like so many bundles of wash, until he had made room for all three boys, including their own luggage.