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"If you go to the chair for ood will it do Eve?" asked S dry; he moistened them

"Sink holes don't talk," said Clinch "G'wan and square yourself, if you're the church kind"

"Clinch," said Sood as dead yourself Quintana is here"

"Say, don't hand me that," retorted Clinch "Do you square yourself or no?"

"I tell you Quintana's gang were at the dance to-night -- Picquet, Salzar, Georgiades, Sard, Beck, Jose Sanchez -- the one who looks like a French priest Maybe he had a beard when you saw him in that cafe wash-room----"

"What!" shouted Clinch in sudden fury "What yeh talkin' about, you poor duo! Yeh fixin' to scare me? What do you know about Quintana? Are you one of Quintana's gang, too? Is that what you're up to, hidin' out at Star Pond Come on, out with it! I'll have it all out of you now, Hal Sing his heavy pistol as though he meant to brain his victim, but he halted after the first step or two and stood there, a shadowy bulk, growling, enraged, undecided

And, as Smith looked at him, two shadows detached thelided behind -- struck in utter silence

Down crashed Clinch, black-jacked, his face in the ooze His pistol flew fro; and S on the murderous shadows

"Hands up! Quick!" he cried, at bay now, and his back to the sink-hole

Pistol levelled, he bent one knee, pushed Clinch over on his back, lest the ooze suffocate him

"Now," he said coolly, "what do you bums want out of Mike Clinch?"

"Who are you?" came a sullen voice "This is none o' your bloody business We want Clinch, not you"

"What do you want of Clinch?"

"Take your gun off us!"

"Answer, or I'll let go at you What do you want of Clinch?"

"Money What do you think?"

"You're here to stick up Clinch?" enquired Smith

"Yes What's that to you?"

"What has Clinch done to you?"

"He stuck us up, that's what! Now, are you going to keep out of this?"