` 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 Englishman drawled . ` Nickle-jao ! Go back to your carriage . '
Step by step , withdrawing deferentially and dropping his voice , the yellow Saddhu clomb back to the carriage , cursing the D.S.P. to remotest posterity , by -- here XXXXX almost jumped -- by the curse of the Queen 's Stone , by the writing under the Queen 's Stone , and by an assortment of Gods with wholly , new names . '
E23 Englishman Kim Nickle-jao Sahib Sahibs Superintendent Umballa first mut