conflict.

"And I missed that, too!" mourned Rand. "But I started a war of my own
down here, anyway. When I quit seeing red I had a bottle neck in my hand
and both the Germans were down. Somebody said Schmidt was dead. A couple
of men tried to grab me. I fought my way clear, hid awhile, got back on
the boat without being noticed, and paid one of the crew well to hide me
in the hold and feed me. Nearly died from heat and suffocation down
there, but lived to reach Iquitos, where my man smuggled me ashore. I
thought I was safe there. But before I could make a move to travel on I
fell into the hands of that cursed Schwandorf."

"Schwandorf!"

"Schwandorf. He was in Iquitos. The sailor who hid me must have sold me
out to him. Schwandorf told me he was a police officer in Brazilian
employ. Said he would take me back to stand trial for murdering Schmidt.
The dirty blackmailer took all my money to keep his mouth shut and take
me to a 'safe place.' The safe place was up this river. I came up here
with him in a canoe paddled by some tough Peruvians. Then he began
trying to bully me into doing dirty work for him--running women into
Peru. I saw red again and jumped for him. He gave me that bullet on the
head.

"After that things are badly blurred. I found myself among savages. How
I got there, why I wasn't killed, I don't know. Schwandorf was there
awhile. Then he went away with his gang, leaving me very sure of only
one thing--I was a murderer and would be executed if caught. And--well,
that's about all, except that the savages seemed rather afraid of me and
didn't want me around."

There was another silence. Then Lourenco remarked:

"Between Schmidt and Schwandorf you have suffered much. It is possible
that there was a connection of some sort between them. But neither can
ever trouble you again. I do not see why Schwandorf took the trouble
even to put you among the Red Bones. One more bullet would have ended
you."

"Any ideas on that subject, Jose?" asked McKay.

"Only a guess, Capitan. I was not here five years ago, and I knew
nothing of Schwandorf then. But I know he always schemed for his own
good and overlooked no chances. So perhaps, finding this man not dead,
but darkened in mind by his bullet, he thought he might be able to use
him in some way at some future time. A dead man is not useful to anyone.
If this man should never become valuable he could live and die forgotten
among savages, where he could do Schwando