The Pulaskian., 1918-02-22

Look out for traps. Smash lem on sight. But don't follow up too farl"
 "Sure," said Charles.
 'Help me with the stain now, will you?"
 With his fiashlight burning as if its battery provided current by the week instead of by the minute, Athelstan dragged open the mules pack and pro duced host of things. He propped a mirror against the pack and squatted in front of it. Then he passed lit tie bottle to his brother, and Charles attended to the chin-strap mark that would have betrayed him British of ficer in any light brighter than dusk. In a few minutes his whole face was darkened to one hue, and Charles stepped back to look at 1t.
 "Won't need to wash yourself for a month 1" he said. "The dirt won't show!" He sniffed at the bottle. "But that stain won't come off if you do wash-never worryl You'll do finely"
 "Not yet, I won'tl'' said Athelstan, picking up a little safety razor and be- ginning on his mustache. In a min ute he had his upper lip bare. Then his brother bent over him and rubbed in stain where the scrubby mustache had been.
 After that Athelstan unlocked the leather bag that had caused Ismail so much concern and shook out from it a pile of odds and ends at which his brother nodded with perfect under standing. The principal item was a piece of silk-forty or fifty yards of it-that he proceeded to bind into a turban on his head, his brother lending him a guiding, understanding finger at every turn. When that was done, the man who had said he looked in the least like British officer would have lied.
 One after another he drew on native garments, picking them from the pile beside him. So, by rapid stages he de- veloped into native hakim-by creed converted Hindu, like Rewa Gunga -one of the men who practice yunani, or modern medicine, without license and with very great deal of added superstition, trickery and guesswork.
 sI wouldn't trust you with a ha'pen- nyi" announced his brother when he had done. "The part to T."
 "Well-take these into the fort for me, will you?" His brother caught the bundle of discarded European clothes and tucked them under his arm. "Now, remember, old man! We've got to hold the Khyber, and we can't do it by rid ing pell-mell into the first trap set for usl Be a coward, if that's the name you care to give it. You needn't tell me you've got orders to hunt skirmish- CTS to a standstiH, because know bet ter"
 "How d'you know better?" "Never mind I've been seconded to your crowd. I'm your senior, and I'm giving you orders. Hit hard when you have to, but for Gods sake, old man, ware traps!'
 "All right" said his brother. '"Then good-by, old man!" "Good-by, Athelstanr'
 They stood facing and shook hands. Where had been a man and his refec- tion in the mist, there now seemed to be the same man and native. Athel- stan King had changed his very na- ture with his clothes. He stood like a native-moved like one; even his voice was changed, as if-like the actor who dyed himself all over to act Othello-- he could do nothing by halves. "'By, Charlesw
 Officers in that force are not chosen for their clumsiness, or inability to move silently by night. His footsteps died in the mist almost as quickly as his shadow. Before he had been gone minute the pass was silent as death again, and though Athelstan listened with trained ears, the only sound he could detect. was of a jackal cracking bone fifty or sixty yards away.