Chakdor looked at Orville’s fist. He carefully set the water jug on the table, then stepped forward and took the money, slipping it under his bakhu. He cast his eyes down and brushed past Orville, opening the door.
Colonel Digby’s voice called out down the corridor. “Chakdor! Drat it, where are you? Call that Gangtok guide!”
Chakdor turned, his face pale, and locked eyes with Orville.
Orville’s breath came hard. He nodded and followed the man from the room.
Chakdor slunk off to the kitchen as Colonel Digby and Leopold stood in the entryway, their coats on. Orville hurried down the corridor, ducking his head as he came, hoping the profile of his jacket didn’t bulge where the documents hid. “Sir, I have not yet unpacked your luggage.”
“Don’t worry about that, Orville,” Leopold said, an
