Nine men out of ten would flee from a Royal Society soiree in extremity of boredom ; but Creighton was the tenth , and at times his soul yearned for the crowded rooms in easy London where silver-haired , bald-headed gentlemen who know nothing of the Army move among spectroscopic experiments , the lesser plants of the frozen tundras , electric flight-measuring machines , and apparatus for slicing into fractional millimetres the left eye of the female mosquito . By all right and reason , it was the Royal Geographical that should have appealed to him , but men are as chancy as children in their choice of playthings . So Creighton smiled , and thought the better of Hurree Babu , moved by like desire . He dropped the ghost-dagger and looked up at Mahbub . ` How soon can we get the colt from the stable ? ' said the horse-dealer , reading his eyes . ` Hmm ! If I withdraw him by order now -- what will he do , think you ? I have never before assisted at the teaching of such an one . ' ` He will come to me , ' said Mahbub promptly . ` Lurgan Sahib and I will prepare him for the Road . ' ` So be it , then . For six months he shall run at his choice . But who will be his sponsor ? ' Lurgan slightly inclined his head . ` He will not tell anything , if that is what you are afraid of , Colonel Creighton . ' ` It 's only a boy , after all . ' ` Ye-es ; but first , he has nothing to tell ; and secondly , he knows what would happen . Also , he is very fond of Mahbub , and of me a little . ' ` Will he draw pay ? '
demanded the practical XXXXX .
Army Babu London Sahib Ye-es chancy ghost-dagger horse-dealer left tundras