Explore "C. I. D" by Talbot Mundy on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"What are good guys for?"
Copeland sat up, in the howdah, smoking, studying the back of the mahout's head and admiring the way the rain ran from the roof of the enormous barn--a two-storied affair. The upper part projected and was supported on thick wooden posts; it served as shelter from the rain, and the smell of the corn and semsem seed and peas was not bad, so that Copeland actually was enjoying the long wait. He had hardly realized how tired he was, after so many days of incessant and exacting work, until he sat in that swaying howdah while the elephant pumped restlessly at an imaginary crank. And there was lots to think about--the Sikh's enthusiasm--Major Eustace Smith's boils and abominable manners --the riots in front of the palace--this astonishing elephant--and the babu. Most of all the babu. It was like a dream directed by a humorous, fat showman.