‘I guess I’ve as much show; I’m a good bit fitter to talk of your wife than you are, you--you hound.’ The words in the slow drawl were maddening, and this time it was Massinger’s revolver that was levelled, but Mr Denver sat idly as ever, looking full at his companion, and presently the latter dropped his arm. ‘Malūa, Major, Malūa! even _you_ won’t commit murder, you see.’--A longer hiss from the inky depth in the centre, and a thin jet of water spurted up a foot or two above the level of the ground. Mr Denver took out his watch and looked at the opening above. ‘The show’s beginning,’ he said. Massinger was wiping some drops of water off his trousers. ‘I say,’ he said excitedly, ‘that water was boilin’; will it come any higher?’ ‘Don’t alarm yourself, Major, the moon’ll be up before the next demonstration.’ ‘What in the fiend’s name has the moon got to do with it? If you think I’m goin’ to stay here to be boiled for you or any other madman, I’m not takin’ any, I can tell you.’ ‘No? Well, I guess you’re _going_ to stay here some, while I finish what I’ve got to say.--Four years ago you married the present Mrs Massinger; and I guess you’ve led her the life of a dog.’ ‘You’re a liar! a d----d liar! I’ve never ill-used her.’ ‘You’ve never struck or kicked her, you mean, but by God, in every other way you’ve been a brute to her, and I reckon you’ve spoilt her life.’ He held the other with his look, and went on rapidly. ‘I know you, Major; you’re a mean, sullen, sordid cur, not fit to live with any woman, much less with _her_. We--ell! so--o I guess I’ve fixed up a little idea which I’m going to explain to you right along.’ Another low, soft hiss from the bottomless pit. The rays from the moon were now striking almost vertically into the cavern, on Massinger sitting motionless in an angry but half-cowed amazement, on Mr Denver again consulting his watch. He returned it to his pocket and said: ‘In ten minutes from that first jet, there’ll be a geyser, and if we’re here I calculate we’ll be boiled and carried down that hole,--I know its little ways. There’s just upon six minutes left, but in three the moon’ll be right above, and there’ll be considerable light in the shooting gallery.’ Massinger opened his mouth, but Mr Denver went on sharply and distinctly: ‘You see, Major, my idea’s just this, _one_ of us has got to stay right here. Now its likely you’ll prefer being shot to being boiled; when I say the words “one, two, _three_,” we shall both of us fire, and if you pass out over my body you are to be congratul_at_ed. I shall shoot you if I can, because’--he paused, then very slowly, ‘I guess Mrs Massinger has no kind of use for you. It’s a fair and square business, Major, and you bet’--he pointed with his pistol to the bubbling, hissing chasm--‘the devil’ll take the hind-most.’