At his side lay a small lead container, and closer, as though he had dropped it after extracting it from its case, lay a tube some six inches in length. It was a queer tube, for it seemed to be filled with smoky, pallid worms of light that writhed even as Juan writhed. "What's the trouble?" asked Durkin gruffly, for he was alarmed at the behavior of the peon. It seemed to both tramps that the man must have gone mad. * * * * * They kept back from him, with ready guns. Juan shrieked, and it sounded as though he said he was burning up, in a great fire. Suddenly the peon staggered to his feet; as he pushed himself up, his hands gripped the tube, and he clawed at his face. Perplexity and horror were writ on the faces of the two tramps. Maget was struck with pity for the unfortunate peon, who seemed to be suffering the tortures of the damned. He was not a bad man, was Maget, but rather a weakling who had a run of bad luck and was under the thumb of Durkin, a really hard character. Durkin, while astounded at the actions of Juan, showed no pity. Maget stepped forward, to try and comfort Juan; the peon struck out at him, and whirled around. But a few yards away was the bank of the stream, and Juan crashed into a black palm set with spines, caromed off it, and fell face downward into the water. The glass tube was smashed and the pieces fell into the stream. "God, he must be blind," groaned Maget. "Poor guy, I've got to save him." "The hell with him," growled Durkin. He grasped his partner's arm and stared curiously down at the dying peon. "Let go, I'll pull him out," said Maget, trying to wrench away from Durkin. "He's done for. Why worry about a peon?" said Durkin. "Look at those fish!" The muddy waters of the stream had parted, and dead fish were rising about the body of Juan. But not about the dying man so much as close to the spot where the broken tube had fallen. White bellies up, the fish died as though by magic. "Let's--let's get the hell back to Manoas, Bill," said Maget in a sickly voice. "This--this is too much for me." * * * * * A nameless fear, which had been with Maget ever since the beginning of the venture, was growing more insistent. "What?" cried Durkin. "Turn back now? The hell you say! That damn peon got into a fight with somebody and maybe got bit by a snake later. We'll go on and get that treasure." "But--but what made those fish come up that way?" said Maget, his brows creased in perplexity. Durkin shrugged. "What's the difference? We're O. K., ain't we?" In spite of the stout man's bravado, it was evident that he, too, was disturbed at the strange happenings. He kept voicing aloud the question in his mind; what was in the queer tube?