, inexperienced newspaper
man whose ambitions pleased her fancy and whose innocence delighted her
own mood.

He was down the river somewhere, and when she landed in at Mendova in
the late twilight she saw his skiff swinging from the stern of a
motorboat. Having made fast near it, she quickly learned that he had
gone up town, and that someone had heard him say that he was going to
Palura's.

Palura's! Nelia had heard the fascination of that den's ill-fame. She
laughed to herself when she thought that Terabon would excuse his going
there on the ground of its being right in his line of work, that he must
see that place because otherwise he would not know how to describe it.

"If I can catch him there!" she thought to herself.

She went to Palura's, and Old Mississippi seemed to favour her. She
found another woman who knew the ropes there and who was glad to help
her play the game. From a distance Nelia Crele discovered that Terabon
was with Carline, her own husband. She dismissed him with a shrug of her
shoulders, and told her companion to take care of him.

Nelia, having plagued the soul of the River Prophet, Rasba, now with
equal zest turned to seize Terabon, careless of where the game ended if
only she could begin it and carry it on to her own music and in her own
measure.

They had it all determined: Carline was to be wedged away with his
friend, a cotton broker that Daisy--Nelia's newfound accomplice--knew,
and Terabon was to be tempted to "do the Palace," and he was to be
caught unaware, by Nelia, who wanted to dance with him, dine with him
under bright lights, and drink dangerous drinks with him. She knew him
sober and industrious, good and faithful, a decent, reputable working
man--she wanted to see him waked up and boisterous, careless for her
sake and because of her desires.

She just felt wicked, wanted to be wicked, and didn't care how wicked
she might be. She counted, however, without the bonds which the
Mississippi River seems at times to cast around its favourites--the
Spirit of the river which looks after his own.

She had not even seen Policeman Laddam standing at the main entrance of
the notorious resort, for Daisy had taken her through another door. She
went to the exclusive "Third," and from there emerged onto the dancing
floor just as Palura ostentatiously went forth to drive Laddam away, or
to kill him.

Daisy checked her, for the minute or two of suspense, and then the whole
scene, the tr