he makes straight for my room."

"Why do you give him the liquor?" Harding inquired.

"I don't. He's a pretty regular customer, but he never gets too much
at this hotel."

"And there isn't another."

"That's so," Gardner assented, but he offered no explanation and Blake
changed the subject.

"Unless you're fond of farming, life in these remote districts is
trying," he remarked. "The loneliness and monotony are apt to break
down men who are not used to it."

"Turns some of them crazy and kills off a few," said a farmer, who
appeared to be well educated. "After all, worse things might happen to
them."

"It's conceivable," agreed Blake. "But what particular things were you
referring to?"

"I was thinking of men who go to the devil while they're alive.
There's a fellow in this neighborhood who's doing something of the
kind."

"Rot!" exclaimed a thick voice; and a man's figure appeared against the
light at the open window. "Devil'sh a myth; allegorolical gentleman,
everybody knowsh. Hard word that--allegorolical. Bad word too;
reminds you of things in the rivers down in Florida. Must be some in
the creek here; seen them, in my homestead."

"You go to bed!" said Gardner sternly.

"Nosh a bit," replied Benson. "Who you talking to?" He leaned
forward, in danger of falling through the window. "Lemme out!"

"It's not all drink," Gardner explained. "He has something like shakes
and ague now and then. Says he got it in India."

Benson disappeared, and a few moments afterward reeled out of the door
and held himself upright by one of the veranda posts.

"Now I'm here, don't let me interrupt, gentlemen," he said. "Nice
place if this post would keep still."

Warned by a sign from Gardner, the others ignored him; and Harding
turned to the farmer.

"You hadn't finished what you were saying when he disturbed you."

"I don't know that it was of much importance; speaking of degenerates,
weren't we? We have a curious example of the neurotic here: a fellow
who makes a good deal of money by victimizing farmers who are forced to
borrow when they lose a crop, as well as preying on young fools from
England; and, by way of amusement, he studies modern magic and indulges
in refined debauchery. It strikes me as a particularly unhallowed
combination."

"No sensible man has any use for hoodoo tricks and the people who
practise them," Harding said. "They're frauds from the start."

"Don't know what you're talk