his friends. They had brought the mail up this far with them, and Rhamon was to go on the rest of the way with the mail truck which would turn back now to Srinagar.
When he finally reached Srinagar and jumped down from the mail truck he saw the tall, white-robed figure of his father, waiting to meet him. Subro picked Rhamon up off his feet and gave him a great hug, then set him down again, saying over and over again, "Allah be praised! Allah be praised!"
Just as they stepped into Subro's shikara to paddle home, the Chief of Police rushed up, the end of his great turban flying inthe breeze. He slapped Rhamon on the back, then rubbed his big nose and twirled his black moustache. "Now you will surely be a Chief of Police!" he shouted, "and not a thief shall escape you!"
Then as the boat pulled away Rhamon heard him begin to laugh—that hearty laugh which he was sure always started away down in the the tips of his uncle's red leather slippers.
