CHAPTER 1THE COMING OF JAI SINGH
“Message for Mr. Carter!”
The wireless operator of the steamship Marathon, in the linen clothes and pith helmet ordinarily worn by white people in the tropics, came along the steamer deck with a slip of paper in his hand and stopped in front of a row of steamer chairs under an awning.
“Where’s it from?” asked the occupant of one of the chairs, springing to his feet.
“From shore, sir—Calcutta.”
Nick Carter, who was holding out his hand even as he got up from his chair, took the paper quickly and glanced at the few words it contained:
“Get up to Nepal quickly.”
That was all. There was no signature, and the operator could not say who had sent it.
“It came from the main office of the telegraph company in Calcutta,” he explained. “The operator told me a
