"I listen."

Samson leaned back and scrutinized his visitor with deliberate rudeness.
Having the upper hand he proposed to hold it.

But Jinendra's high priest was no beginner either in the game of
Beggar-my-neighbor. He understood the value of a big trump to begin
with, provided there is other ammunition in reserve.

"The whereabouts of the treasure of Sialpore is known!"

"The deuce it is!" said Samson, in good plain English. "Who knows it?"
he demanded.

The high priest smiled.

Samson, as was natural, felt that tingling up and down the spine and
quickening of the heart-beats that announces crisis in one's personal
affairs, but concealed it admirably. It was the high priest's turn to speak.
He waited.

"Half of that treasure belongs to the priesthood of Jinendra," said the
priest at last.

"Since when?"

"Since the beginning."

"Why?"