from Clinch's Dump.

So now Sard, full of curiosity, went back into the pantry to look at it
for himself.

Almost instantly the idea occurred to him to make use of the drain for
his own safety and comfort.

Why shouldn't he sleep in the pantry, lock the door, and, in case of
intrusion, -- other exits being unavailable, -- why shouldn't he feel
entirely safe with such an avenue of escape open?

For swimming was Sard's single accomplishment. He wasn't afraid of the
water; he simply couldn't sink. Swimming was the only sport he ever had
indulged in. He adored it.

Also, the mere idea of sleeping alone amid that hell of trees terrified
Sard. Never had he known such horror as when Quintana abandoned him in
the woods. Never again would he gaze upon a tree without malignant
hatred. Never again did he desire to lay eyes upon even a bush. The
very sight, now, of the dusky forest filled him with loathing. Why
should he not risk one night in this deserted house, -- sleep well and
warmly, feed well, drink his bellyfull of Clinch's beer, before
attempting the dead-line southward, where he was only too sure that
patrols were riding and hiding on the lookout for the fancy gentlemen of
Jose Quintana's selected company of malefactors?

Well, here in the snug pantry were pies, crullers, bread, cheese,
various dried meats, tinned vegetables, ham, bacon, fuel and range to
prepare what he desired.

Here was beer, too; and doubtless ardent spirits if he could nose out
the hidden demijohns and bottles.

He peered out of the pantry window at the forest, shuddered, cursed it
and every separate tree in it; cursed Quintana, too, wishing him black
mischance. No; it was settled. He'd take his chance here in the
pantry. ... And there must be a mattress somewhere upstairs.

He climbed the staircase, cautiously, discovered Clinch's bedroom, took
the mattress and blankets from the bed, and dragged them to the pantry.

Could any honest man be more tight and snug in this perilous world of
the desperate and undeserving? Sard thought not. But one matter still
troubled him; the lock of the pantry door had been shattered. To remedy
this he moused around until he discovered some long nails and a
claw-hammer. When he was ready to go to sleep he'd nail himself in.
Sard chuckled again for the first time since he had set eyes upon the
accursed region.

And now the sun came out from behind a low bank of solid grey cloud, and
fell upon t