Jaro said nothing. He sat facing the entrance. From time to time he flicked his eyes to the girl's face but for the most part, he watched the doorway like a cat at a mouse hole. For some minutes past he had been unobtrusively studying a plump, bald-headed man who had entered and was loitering about the door. The plump man's hand disappeared inside the breast of his gray coat. When it reappeared there was the glint of metal in his fist. Without a word of warning, Jaro seized the edge of the table, upended it with a crash of glass. In the same movement, he slipped to the floor, using the table as a shield. Joan was left sitting in her chair, a foolish expression on her face. "For heaven's sake," she hissed, "get up! Everybody's staring at us." Jaro shifted the slug gun to his left hand, grabbed the girl by one shapely ankle, yanked her to the floor. "_Oof!_" she gulped as she lit with a solid smack. Her hat slid to the back of her head. "Stay down!" said Jaro impassively. The plump man in the gray suit was circling the table warily. Jaro took a pot shot at him over the top of the table. The plump man spun around as if jerked by an unseen hand. The occupants of the other tables simultaneously dived for the door which was at least ten feet too narrow to accommodate them all. The plump man was sitting on the floor, his back to the wall, a surprised expression on his face. His poisoned dart gun lay a dozen feet away. "Come on," said Jaro yanking the girl to her feet as abruptly as he had tumbled her down. "This joint should have a back exit." Joan clapped her hand to her hat as they dashed around the bar and through a door. They came out into a narrow, devious alley which paralleled the main passage. "What happened?" Joan gasped when she caught her breath. Jaro slipped the slug gun back in its holster. "Give me a slug gun any day. It's got a kick like a rocket tube. When you hit a man with it, he says down. Knocked that gunman right off his feet. Did you see him?" "No," said Joan bitterly. "I'm not accustomed to being thumped around like a sack of flour. I didn't see anything, after bouncing off the floor, but stars." "One of Peet's men tailed me into the grog shop," he explained, "and took a shot at us." "Us?" she gulped. "But why?" "We know too much." They had emerged into a well-lit, well-traveled passage. Jaro looked at the girl seriously, his light blue eyes unreadable. "What can I do with you?" "Must you do anything? I'm really a very frail girl. You play too rough." He ignored the interruption. "You'd better come to my room." He took her arm, started off toward the native quarter. "Please, Mr. Moynahan," she protested trotting along beside him. "Now, listen," said Jaro patiently. "I didn't kill that gunman. When he lets Peet know that we were together your life won't be worth anymore than Karfial Hodes'."