e said.
Now, I pry my eyes open with matches to stay awake. With you here----"

His thin voice trailed off. He had confessed what Peter already knew.
It was the blurted confession, and the blurted plea, of a mind that was
half consumed by drugs. A diseased mind which spoke the naked truth,
which caught at no deception, which was tormented by its own gnawings
and cravings to such an extent that it had lost the function of
suspecting. Suspicion of a low, distorted sort might come later; but
at its present ebb this mind was far too greedy to gain its own small
ends to grope beyond.

The lids of Harrison's smoldering eyes drew down, and they were blue, a
sickly, pallid blue. With their descent his face became a death-mask.
But Peter knew from many an observation that such signs were deceptive;
knew that opium was a powerful and sustaining drug; knew that Harrison,
while weak and stupid and raving, was very much alive!

"There is little work to be done," went on the thin voice. "Only at
night. Say you will stay with me!" he pleaded.

Peter permitted himself to frown, as if he had reached a negative
decision. Harrison, torn by desire, flung himself down on his ragged
knees, and sobbed on Peter's hand. Peter pushed him away loathfully.

"What is my task?"

Harrison sank back on his heels, oblivious of the wet streak which ran
down from his eyes on either side of his thin, sharp nose, and delved
nervously into his pocket. He withdrew a lump of black gum, about the
size of a black walnut, broke off a fragment with his finger-nails, and
masticated it slowly. He smirked sagely.

"He won't care. Why should he care?"

"Who, my son?"

"That man--that man who owns Len Yang, and me, and these rat-eaters.
All _he_ wants is results."

"Ah, yes. He owns other mines?"

"What does _he_ care about the mines? Of course he directs the other
mines by wireless. He owns a sixth of the world. _He_ does. He is
rich. Rich! You and I are poor fools. He gives me opium"--Harrison
glared and gulped--"and he does not ask questions."

"Wise men learn without asking questions, my son," said Peter gravely.

"Certainly they do! He knows everything, and he never asks a question.
Not a one! He answers them, _he_ does!"

"You have asked him questions?"

"I? Humph! What an innocent fool you are, in spite of that gold on
your collar! Have I seen him to ask questions?"

"That is what I meant."

"Not I. He is no fool.