By this time Larry had lighted the smelly lamp and closed the door and locked it. "You're getting nervous and twisted, Rivers." The two sat down by the paper-strewn table. "Well, who wouldn't?" snapped Rivers. "Hiding in this junk, knowing that your wife----" he paused abruptly, but Maclin nodded sympathetically. "It's hell, Maclin." "Sure! Got anything to drink?" Larry went to the closet and brought out a bottle and glasses. "This helps!" Maclin said, pouring out the best brand from the Cosey. The men drained their glasses and became, after a few minutes, more cheerful. Maclin stretched out his legs--he had to do this in order to adjust his fat and put his hands in his pockets. "Larry, I want to tell you that you won't have to hide in your hole much longer. I'm one too many for that fellow Northrup. I hold the cards now." "The devil you do!" Rivers's eyes brightened. "Yes, sir. He wants the Point, old man, and the Heathcotes gave him the knowledge that your wife owns it. He's getting her where he can handle her. Damn shame, I say--using a woman and taking advantage of her weak side. If we don't act spry he'll get what he wants." Larry's face flushed a purple-red. "What do you mean, Maclin? Talk out straight and clear." "Well, I weigh it this way and that. Northrup might--I hate to use brutal terms--he might compromise your wife and get her to sell and shut him up, or he might get her so bedazzled that she'd feel real set up to negotiate with him. A man like Northrup is pretty flattering to a woman like your wife, Rivers. You see, she's carrying such a big cargo of learning and fancy rot that she can't properly sail. That kind gets stranded _always_, Larry. They just naturally _make_ for rocks." Larry had a sensation of choking and loosened his collar, then he surprised Maclin by turning and lighting a fire in the stove before he further surprised him by asking, with dangerous calmness: "What in all that's holy do you--this Northrup--any one, want this damned Point for?" Maclin was rarely in a position to fence with Rivers, but he was now. "Larry, old man, did you ever have in your life an ideal, or what stands for it, that you would work for, and suffer for?" "No!" Rivers could not stand delay.