uta here; and Harrod he walled me in
with the chariots and spears of Egypt, till I nigh went wild. ... And
now comes Quintana, and here I be a-lyin' out to get him so's my girlie
can become a lady, same's them fine folks with all their butlers and
automobiles and what-not----"

A far crash in the forest stilled his twitching lips and stiffened every
iron muscle. As he lifted his rifle, Sid Hone came into the glade.

"Yahoo! Yahoo!" he called. "Where be you, Mike?"

Clinch slowly rose, grasping his rifle, his small, grey eyes ablaze.

"Where's Quintana?" he demanded.

"H'ain't you seen nobody?"

"No."

In the intense silence other sounds broke sharply in the sunset forest;
Harvey Chase's halloo rang out from the rocks above; Blommers and the
Hastings boys came slouching through the ferns.

Byron Hastings greeted Clinch with upflung gun: "Me and Jim heard a shot
away out on Drowned Valley," he announced. "Was you out that way,
Mike."

"No."

One by one the men who had driven Star Peak lounged up in the red sunset
light, gathering around Clinch and wiping the sweat from sun-reddened
faces.

"Someone's in Drowned Valley," repeated Byron. "Them minks slid off'n
Star in a hurry, I reckon, judgin' how they left their shanty. Phew!
It stunk! They had French hootch, too."

"Mebby Leverett and Kloon told 'em we was fixin' to visit them,"
suggested Blommers.

"They didn't know," said Clinch.

"Where's Hal Smith?" inquired Hone.

Clinch made no reply. Blommers silently gnawed a new quid from the
remains of a sticky plug.

"Well," inquired Jim Hastings finally, "do we quit, Mike, or do we
still-hunt in Drowned Valley?"

"Not me, at night," remarked Blommers drily.

"Not amongst them sink-holes," added Hone.

Suddenly Clinch turned and stared at him. Then the deadly light from
his little eyes shone on the others one by one.

"Boys," he said, "I gotta get Quintana. I can't never sleep another
wink till I get that man. Come on. Act up like gents all. Let's go."

Nobody stirred.

"Come on," repeated Clinch softly. But his lips shrank back, twitching.

As they looked at him they saw his teeth.

"All right, all right," growled Hone, shouldering his rifle with a jerk.

The Hastings boys, young and rash, shuffled into the trail. Blommers
hesitated, glanced askance at Clinch, and instantly made up his mind to
take a chance with the sink-holes rather than with Clinch.

"God A'mighty, Mike, wha