Wasn't you in Russia?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Yes, you was. You was an officer! What you doing at Clinch's?"

"What's that?" growled Clinch, shoving his way forward and shouldering
the crowd aside.

"Who's this man, Mike?" demanded Berry.

"Well, who do you think he is?" asked Clinch thickly.

"I think he's gettin' the goods on you, that's what I think," yelled
Berry.

"G'wan home, Charlie," returned Clinch. "G'wan, all o'you. The dance
is over. Go peaceable, every one. Stop that fiddle!"

The music ceased. The dance was ended; they all understood that; but
there was grumbling and demands for drinks.

Clinch, drunk but impassive, herded them through the door out into the
starlight. There was scuffling, horse-play, but no fighting.

The big Englishman, Harry Beck, asked for accommodations for his part
over night.

"Naw," said Clinch, "g'wan back to the Inn. I can't bother with you
folks to-night." And as the others, Salzar, Georgiades, Picquet and
Sanchez gathered about to insist, Clinch pushed them all out of doors in
a mass.

"Get the hell out o' here!" he growled; and slammed the door.

He stood for a moment with head lowered, drunk, but apparently capable
of reflection. Eve came from the melodeon and laid one slim hand on his
arm.

"Go to bed, girlie," he said, not looking past her.

"You also, dad."

"No. ... I got business with Hal Smith."

Passing Smith, the girl whispered: "You look out for him and undress
him."

Smith nodded, gravely preoccupied with coming events, and nerving
himself to meet them.

He had no gun. Clinch's big automatic bulged under his armpit.

When the girl had ascended the creaking stairs and her door, above,
closed, Clinch walked unsteadily to the door, opened it, fished out his
pistol.

"Come on out," he said without turning.

"Where?" enquired Smith.

Clinch turned, lifted his square head; and the deadly glare in his eyes
left Smith silent.

"You comin?"

"Sure," said Smith quietly.

But Clinch gave him no chance to close in: it was death even to swerve.
Smith walked slowly out into the starlight, ahead of Clinch -- slowly
forward in the luminous darkness.

"Keep going," came Clinch's quiet voice behind him. And, after they had
entered the woods, -- "Bear to the right."

Smith knew now. The low woods were full of sink-holes. They were
headed for the nearest one.

* * * * *

On the edge of the thing they halted. Smith tur