WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR
Martyn rose lazily, read it, and whistled. "It 's declared!" he cried. "One, two, three—eight districts go under the operations of the Famine Code ek dum. They 've put Jimmy Hawkins in charge."
"Good business!" said Scott, with the first sign of interest he had shown. "When in doubt hire a Punjabi. I worked under Jimmy when I first came out and he belonged to the Punjab. He has more bundobust than most men.
"Jimmy 's a Jubilee Knight now," said Martyn. "He 's a good chap, even though he is a thrice-born civilian and went to the Benighted Presidency. What unholy names these Madras districts rejoice in—all ungas or rungas or pillays or polliums!"
A dog-cart drove up in the dusk, and a man entered, mopping his head. He was editor of the one daily paper at the capital of a Province of twenty-five million natives and a few hundred white men: as his staff was limited to himself and one assistant, his office-hours ran variously from ten to twenty a day.
"Hi, Raines; you 're supposed to know everything," said Martyn, stopping him. "How 's this Madras 'scarcity' going to turn out?"
"No one knows as yet. There 's a message as long as your arm coming in on the telephone. I 've left my cub to fill it out. Madras has owned she can't manage it alone, and Jimmy seems to have a free hand in getting all the men he needs. Arbuthnot 's warned to hold himself in readiness."
"'Badger’ Arbuthnot?"
"The Peshawur chap. Yes: and the Pi wires that
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