uzzing noise set up off in the night somewhere. It kept up
for a long time, throttled down. Suddenly it seemed to grow louder,
changed in pitch, and dwindled as if into the far, far distance.

"That's one of The Master's planes now, no doubt," said Jamison
savagely, "going off on some errand for him. He uses this place
practically as an experiment station. The human beings here are his
guinea pigs. The deputies get a standardized form of the stuff, but
he's got it worked out in different doses so he can make a man go mad
in hours, if he chooses, instead of after a delay. I don't know how.
And The Master--"

* * * * *

He checked himself sharply. There were shuffling footsteps in the hall
outside. A timid tap on the door. Jamison opened it, while Bell
dropped one hand inconspicuously to a weapon inside his shapeless
clothing.

The toothless and filthy old man who kept the hotel beamed in at them.

"_Senores_," he cackled. "_Vdes son de Porvenir, no es verdad?_"

Jamison hiccoughed, as one who has been out and been drunken ought to
do.

"_No, viejo_," he rumbled tipsily, "_somos de la estancia del Senor
Rubio. Vaya._"

The old man seemed to mourn that they did not come from the sheep
ranches about Porvenir Bay. But he produced a bottle with a shaking
hand, still beaming.

"_Tengo muchos amigos en Porvenir_," he chirped amiably. "_Y questa
botella--_"

"_Demela_," rumbled Jamison. He reached out his hand.

"_No mas que poquito!_" said the old man, beaming but anxious as
Jamison tilted it to his lips. "_Es visky de gentes...._"

He beamed upon Bell, and Bell swallowed a spoonful and seemed to
swallow vastly more. He lay back lazily while Jamison in the part of a
tipsy sheepherder bullied the old man amiably and eventually chased
him out.

"You're amused?" asked Jamison sardonically, when there were no more
sounds outside. "Because I said you didn't want to meet the young
senorita who loved you when she saw you downstairs? Well, Bell, if you
used your brain you didn't swallow any of that stuff."

Bell started up. Jamison caught him by the shoulder.

"I'm not sure," he said sharply. "Of course not. But it's damned funny
for a Spanish hotel keeper to give something for nothing, even when he
seemed just to want to gossip about his friends. Here. Drink this
water. It looks vile enough to take the place of mustard...."

* * * * *

Next morning th