. . the clumps of dense bracken . . .
the deep, dark crevices where water splashed! . . .
He went outside. It was not so bright now. There were clouds on the
moon. One side of the clearing lay wholly in shadow. He waited and,
as the light brightened, he saw the thing he sought--trampled
bracken, a broken bush. . . . He followed the trail with a slow
certitude of which ordinarily he would have been incapable. . . . It
did not lead very far. The trees thinned abruptly. A rounded moss-
covered rock rose up between him and the moon . . . and on the rock,
grotesque and darkly clear, a crouching figure--looking down. . . .
A curious sound broke from Spence's throat. He stooped and sprang.
But quick as he was, the figure on the rock was quicker. It slipped
aside. Spence heard a guttural exclamation and caught a glimpse of a
yellow face.
"Li Ho!"
The Chinaman pulled him firmly back from the edge of the moss-
covered rock.
"All same Li Ho," he said. "You come click--but not too dam click."
"I know. Where is he?"
It was the one thing which held interest for Bern's Spence now.
Li Ho stepped gingerly to the edge of the rounded rock. In the clear
light, Spence could see how the moss had been scraped from the
margin.
"Him down there," said Li Ho. "Moon-devil push 'um. Plenty stlong
devil!" Li Ho shrugged.
Spence's clenched hands relaxed.
"Dead?" he asked dully.
"Heap much dead," said Li Ho. "Oh, too much squash!" He made a
gesture.
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