gth must still have
remained untapped.

He drew upon it now. His voice roared again as it had done so many
times before through the Tonah Basin camp. It reached to every
listening ear where crowding men stood hushed and motionless; and the
overtone of terror that altered its customary timber was apparent to
all.

"Devils!" said Riley. "Devils, straight out o' hell!... I saw 'em--I
saw 'em plain!... I shot--as if hot lead could harm the imps of
Satan....

"Oh, sir,"--his eyes had found those of Dean Rawson who was leaning
above--"for the love of hivin, Mister Rawson, do ye be quittin'
drillin'. The place is damned. L'ave it, sir; go away...."

His eyes closed. But he started up once more; he raised his head from
the sand with one final convulsive movement, and his voice was high
and shrill.

"The fire! The fire of hell! He's turnin' it on me! God help...."

But Riley, before his failing mind could recall again that torturing
jet of flame, must have slipped away into a darkness as softly
enveloping as the velvet shadow world behind the low-hung stars.
Rawson's hand that felt for a moment above the heart, confirmed the
message of the closed eyes and the head that fell inertly back.

He came slowly to his feet.

"Keep the floods on!" he ordered. "Take command of the armed guard,
Smithy; keep the whole camp patrolled."

Then to the men:

"Boys, Riley was wrong. He believed what he said, all right, but Smith
and I know better. Don't worry about devils. These're just some dirty,
skulking dogs who got away with murder this time but who won't do it
again. We know where they're hiding. I'm checking up on them right
now. After that you'll all get a chance to square accounts for poor
old Riley!"

* * * * *

"But the casting!" Smithy protested when he and Rawson were alone.
"You can't explain that disappearance so easy, Dean."

"No, I can't explain that," Rawson's words came slowly. "They've got
something that we don't understand as yet--but I'm going to know the
answer, and I'm going to find out to-night!"

He was seated behind the wheel of his old car.

"I'm as good a desert man as there is in this crowd," he told Smith.
"And it's my fight, you know. I'm going alone. But there'll be no
fighting this trip; I'll just be scouting around."

He leaned from the car to grip Smithy's shoulder with a hand firm and
steady.

"You didn't see the crater when the show was on. You think that