the
hidden men, then paused. They were three to one; in the dark a fight
would be folly. Nothing would please Garman better than for him to
plunge blindly into a hopeless battle. As Roger thought over the
situation his anger rose and clarified. He realized now what a poor
figure he had cut face to face with Garman, and he understood why.
Garman had dominated him, and made him appear the baffled victim of
Garman's superiority. Garman had dominated him, had played with Mrs.
Livingstone till she rode away, helpless, outraged. But Annette had
outfaced him, and Garman knew it!

"Something has happened!"

Roger recalled Garman's words, and a thrill shot along his spine.
Garman did not dominate Annette; he did not hold her helpless by his
hypnotic presence as formerly. Something had happened. Roger feared
to think what, though hope whispered to him; and he turned back to camp
not at all crest-fallen because the secret way through the Devil's
Playground was closed. He came into camp with an easy, swinging step,
such as no defeated man should display, and Higgins, appraising him as
he listened to Roger's brief statement of the case, said:

"Hm. Then you know about it, do you?"

"About what, Hig?"

"About Willie High Pockets!"

"What! Willy been here?"

Higgins' thick brows met in a puzzled frown above his eyes.

"Payne, do you mean to tell me that you go out and find we're shut in
like rats in a pit and come back here stepping high, without knowing
about our friend Willy?"

"I don't know anything but what I've told you, Hig! Garman has got us
shut in. Got us hopelessly cooped up. That's all I know."

"Well, you're a gamer bird than I thought, then. But why so frisky?"

"I figure he's got us about licked," replied Roger, ignoring the
question. "We've got one chance in a million. We'll have it out with
those birds on the muck land to-night after the moon is down. We may
roust 'em. We may not."

"By God!" swore Higgins swiftly. "I'm almost sorry Willy High Pockets
showed up. Your idea is the one I've had in mind for days. A fine
fight we'd have given them, too. And now that darned Injun cones along
and spoils it. We can't try it now."

XXX

"Why not?" demanded Roger.

"Willy High Pockets came crawling into camp on his belly about ten
minutes after you'd left. He came with a message from that white
side-kick of his he met in the swamp. You can't guess who that guy is."

"Who is