` Thou art my new horse-boy . Go and bed among my men . They are near the north end of the station , with the horses . ' ` They will beat me to the south end of the station if I come without authority . ' Mahbub felt in his belt , wetted his thumb on a cake of Chinese ink , and dabbed the impression on a piece of soft native paper . From Balkh to Bombay men know that rough-ridged print with the old scar running diagonally across it . ` That is enough to show my headman . I come in the morning . ' ` By which road ? ' said Kim . ` By the road from the city . There is but one , and then we return to Creighton Sahib . I have saved thee a beating . ' ` Allah ! What is a beating when the very head is loose on the shoulders ? ' Kim slid out quietly into the night , walked half round the house , keeping close to the walls , and headed away from the station for a mile or so . Then , fetching a wide compass , he worked back at leisure , for he needed time to invent a story if any of Mahbub 's retainers asked questions . They were camped on a piece of waste ground beside the railway , and , being natives , had not , of course , unloaded the two trucks in which Mahbub 's animals stood among a consignment of country-breds bought by the Bombay tram-company . The headman , a broken-down , consumptive-looking Mohammedan , promptly challenged Kim , but was pacified at sight of Mahbub 's sign-manual . ` The Hajji has of his favour given me service , ' said Kim testily .
` If this be doubted , wait till he comes in the XXXXX .
Bombay Chinese Kim Mahbub Mohammedan Sahib country-breds horse-boy morning tram-company