` The trouble now , ' whispered E23 , ` lies in sending a wire as to the place where I hid that letter I was sent to find . I can not go to the tar-office in this guise . ' ` Is it not enough I have saved thy neck ? ' ` Not if the work be left unfinished . Did never the healer of sick pearls tell thee so ? Comes another Sahib ! Ah ! ' This was a tallish , sallowish District Superintendent of Police -- belt , helmet , polished spurs and all -- strutting and twirling his dark moustache . ` What fools are these Police Sahibs ! ' said Kim genially . E23 glanced up under his eyelids . ` It is well said , ' he muttered in a changed voice . ' I go to drink water . Keep my place . ' He blundered out almost into the Englishman 's arms , and was bad-worded in clumsy Urdu . ` Tum mut ? You drunk ? You must n't bang about as though Delhi station belonged to you , my friend . ' E23 , not moving a muscle of his countenance , answered with a stream of the filthiest abuse , at which Kim naturally rejoiced . It reminded him of the drummer-boys and the barrack-sweepers at Umballa in the terrible time of his first schooling .
` My good fool , ' the XXXXX drawled .
E23 Englishman Sahib Sahibs Umballa Urdu drummer-boys first mut tar-office