words
of the finding of the body of a man who had fallen or been thrown from a
plane into the jungle.

* * * * *

They were moving toward the rows of still standing shacks, then, and
faces were beginning to turn toward them, and there was a little stir of
apathetic puzzlement at sight of the white man who had been set free.

That white man looked suddenly at Paula, and then at Bell.

"I've been turned into a beast," he said wryly. "Look here, Bell. There
were as many as ten and fifteen of us in that cage at one time--men the
deputies sent up for the purpose. We were allowed to go mad, one and two
at a time, for the edification of the populace, to keep the _camaradas_
scared. And those of us who weren't going mad just then used to have to
band together and kill them. That cage has been the most awful hell on
earth that any devil ever contrived. They put three women in there once,
with their hands already writhing.... Ugh!..."

Bell's face was cold and hard is if carved from marble.

"I haven't lived through it," said the white man harshly, "by being
soft. And I've got less than no time to live--sane, anyhow. I was
thinking of shooting you in the back, because the young lady--"

He laughed as Bell's revolver muzzle stirred.

"I'm telling you," said the white man in ghastly merriment, "because I
thought--I thought One-Fourteen had set me the example of ditching the
Service for his own life. But now it's different."

* * * * *

He pointed.

"There's a launch in that house, with one of these outboard motors. It
was used to keep up communication with the boat gangs that sweat the
heavy supplies up the river. It'll float in three inches of water, and
you can pole it where the water's too shallow to let the propeller turn.
This rabble will mob you if you try to take it, because it'll have taken
them just about this long to realize that they're deserted. They'll
think you are a deputy, at least, to have dared release me. I'm going to
convince them of it, and use this gun to give you a start. I give you
two hours. It ought to be enough. And then...."

Bell nodded.

"I'm not Service," he said curtly, "but I'll see it's known."

The white man laughed again.

"'Some sigh for the glories of this world, and some for a prophet's
paradise to come,'" he quoted derisively. "I thought I was hard, Bell,
but I find I prefer to have my record clean in the Service