one hand was gripping its butt. The Indian reek still
permeated the atmosphere, and Kars exhaled in noisy disgust as he
entered.

"Gee! It's a stinking outfit," he exclaimed, in tones that left no
doubt of his feelings, as he flung himself on his bunk and began to
fill his pipe.

Bill glanced up. His gaze was preoccupied.

"Neches do stink," he admitted.

Kars struck a match.

"I wasn't worrying about the neches. The neches don't cut any ice with
me. It's Murray."

Bill shook his head while he watched Kars light his pipe.

"Then it's more than a stinking outfit. Maybe I should say 'worse.'"
His eyes were twinkling. It was not with amusement. It was the nature
of them.

But Kars denied him with an oath.

"It couldn't be."

Bill turned his gaze towards the doorway. He was watching the blaze of
spring sunlight, and the hovering swarms of flies which haunted the
river bank.

"But it could. It is," he said deliberately, and his eyes came back to
the weapon in his hand. Then he added with some force:

"There'll need to be a hanging--sure."

"Allan was murdered at his instigation. He'll certainly hang for it,"
Kars agreed.

"I wasn't thinking that way."

"How then?"

"This." Bill held up the gun.

"That? It's Murray's gun. I----"

"Yes," Bill interrupted him, a fierce light leaping into his eyes and
transfiguring them in a manner Kars had never before beheld. "It's
Murray's gun, and it's the gun that handed death to young Alec Mowbray
at the Elysian Fields."

"God!"

Kars' ejaculation was something in the nature of a gasp. Renewed
horror was looking out of his eyes. His pipe was held poised in his
fingers while it was allowed to go out. A curious feeling of
helplessness robbed him of further articulation.

The two men were gazing eye to eye. At last, with an effort, Kars
flung off the silence that held him.

"How--how d'you know?" he demanded in thick tones.

Bill held up a nickel bullet between his finger and thumb. Then he
displayed the half empty cartridge clip he had extracted from the
weapon.

"They're the same make, and--this is the bullet I dug out of poor
Alec's body."

Kars breathed deeply. He regarded the various articles, held
fascinated as by something evil but irresistible. He watched Bill as
he replaced them on the bunk beside him. Then, for a few seconds, the
sounds of activity outside, and the buzz of the swarming flies alone
broke the silence.

B