So far only that one shot had been fired. Both men were still
manoeuvering, always creeping in circles and always lining some great
tree for shelter.

Now, the gathering dusk was making them bolder and swifter; and twice,
already, Clinch caught the shadow of a fading edge of something that
vanished against the shadows too swiftly for a shot.

Now Quintana, keeping a tree in line, brushed with his little back a
leafy moose-bush that stood swaying as he avoided it.

Instantly a stealthy hope seized him: he slipped out of his coat, spread
it on the bush, set the naked branches swaying, and darted to his tree.

Waiting, he saw that grey blot his coat made in the dusk was still
moving a little -- just vibrating a little bit in the twilight. He
touched the bush with his rifle barrel, then crouched almost flat.

Suddenly the red crash of a rifle lit up Clinch's visage for a fraction
of a second. And Quintana's bullet smashed Clinch between the eyes.

* * * * *

After a long while Quintana ventured to rise and creep forward.

Night, too, came creeping like an assassin amid the ghostly trees.

So twilight died in the stillness of Drowned Valley and the pall of
night lay over all things, -- living and dead alike.

* * * * *

Episode Eleven

The Place Of Pines

* * * * *

I

The last sound that Mike Clinch heard on earth was the detonation of his
own rifle. Probably it was an agreeable sound to him. He lay there
with a pleasant expression on his massive features. His watch had
fallen out of his pocket.

Quintana shined him with an electric torch; picked up the watch. Then,
holding the torch in one hand, he went through the dead man's pockets
very thoroughly.

When Quintana had finished, both trays of the flat morocco case were
full of jewels. And Quintana was full of wonder and suspicion.

Unquietly he looked upon the dead -- upon the glittering contents of the
jewel-box, -- but always his gaze reverted to the dead. The faintest
shadow of a smile edged Clinch's lips. Quintana's lips grew graver. He
said slowly, like one who does his thinking aloud:

"What is it you have done to me, l'ami Clinch? ... Are there truly two
sets of precious stones? -- _two_ Flaming Jewels? -- two gems of Erosite
like there never has been in all thees worl' excep' only two more? ...
Or is one set false? ... Have I here one set of paste facsimiles? ... My
frien' Clinch, why do you lie there an' smile at me so ver' funny