"It appears that I am dead also. I saw my wife to-day mourning for me in the most respectable of weeds." "Your hat, you see--it was found in the water ... not far from the dead body of your friend... Naturally..." "Yes, naturally, the wish was father to the thought. Just so!" And with that Fred Starratt laughed so unpleasantly that Brauer shivered and his face reddened. By this time Fred Starratt had finished eating. Brauer paid the check and the two departed. At the first street corner Brauer attempted to slip a five-dollar bill into Starratt's hand. He refused scornfully. "Money? I don't want your money. There is only one thing that will buy my good will--_your silence_. Do you understand what I mean? ... I'm not the same man you tricked last July. Then I thought I had everything to lose. Now I know that no one ever loses anything... You don't understand me, do you? ... Oh, well, it doesn't matter." Brauer's frightened lips scarcely moved as he asked: "Where are you staying?" "Anywhere I can find a shelter... Last night I spent with an anarchist... I think he'd blow up almost anyone for just the sheer joy of it." Brauer shuddered. "Where will you spend to-night?" "I think I'll go back to the same place... This morning I was undecided. But I've heard a lot of things since then... I'm taking an interest in life again... By the way, the man I'm staying with knows Hilmer... And I don't think he likes him, either... I'll give you one tip, Brauer. Never get an anarchist sore at you... _They_ haven't anything to lose, either." He had never seen such pallor as that which shook the color from Brauer's face. He decided not to torment him further. He had established a sense of the unfathomable for the present and future terror of his trembling little ex-partner. His revenge, so far as Brauer was concerned, was complete. He had not the slightest wish to see Brauer again. He let his hands close once more tightly about Brauer's puny wrists. "Remember ... you have not seen me. Do you understand?" "Yes." "Not a living soul ... you are not to even suggest that ... otherwise ... well, I am living with an anarchist, and a word to the wise ..." He turned abruptly and left his companion standing on the street corner, staring vacantly after him. Instinctively his footsteps found their way to Storch's shack. A light was glimmering inside. Fred beat upon the door. It swung open quickly, revealing Storch's greenish teeth bared in a wide smile of satisfaction. "Come in ... come in!" Storch cried out gayly. "Have a good day?" "Excellent!" Fred snapped back, venomously. "I learned, among other things, that I am legally dead." Storch rubbed his hands together in satisfaction. "A clean slate! Do you realize how wonderful it is, my man, to start fresh?" Fred threw himself into a chair. He felt tired. Sharp, darting pains were stabbing his eyes. "I think I'm going to be ill!" he said, with sudden irrelevance.