as
familiar business with this headman. He knew all the problems--and their
answers.

Of course, Dar Girdek had told him about the hospitality of Kira Barra,
but this had to be seen to be believed. He spent his first really
restful night in weeks.

The next morning, he walked slowly along the path to the drivers' lodge,
paying little attention to his surroundings. Somehow, in spite of the
reception given the caravan, he was uneasy.

He recalled his conversation with Retonga the night before.

The man had asked questions about the conditions of the trail. He had
been curious about the treatment of the drivers by the master of the
train. Then he had shaken his head, looking out over his village.

"It is far different here. This is an estate of death and terror, and
our master is the very lord of these. I was a child when his father
died, but I think things were different then." He had looked searchingly
at Naran.

"I've never mentioned these things before," he went on. "But there's
something--" He had looked down at the ground, then up again.

"Our master became Kio through the death of his brother," he went on,
"and it was through the deaths of other headmen that I was placed in
charge of this village." He had glanced back into the door of his hut.

"I had no part in causing those deaths. The life of a headman here in
Tibara is short and none but a fool would fight for this position of
mine. It is not a good one. The master's demands are heavy and his hand
is even heavier."

This didn't match with the reputation of Kio Barra as a considerate
host--a fair man to do business with. It made him wonder.

Had his brother actually ever left this place? But if not, where were
his drivers? What had happened to his train of draft brutes? How had the
cargo he carried been disposed of?

Oh, of course, he knew there were caravan masters who would accept
freight and ask a minimum of questions. Goods could be disposed of. And
this was a breeding estate. The slaves? He shook his head. Too simple!

He brought himself back to the present, looking thoughtfully at the
drivers' lodge ahead of him. Then he probed gently, trying to establish
rapport with Dar Girdek. The man could be in real danger.

He frowned and probed with more force. There was nothing. The frown
deepened.

After his talk with Retonga, he had established rapport with the caravan
master, but the older man had attached no importance to his suspicions.

"No,