"There's a guy in there with a gun," one of the two protested. "He's inside and we're outside. We're sittin' ducks for him." "We're covering the slots with rifles in the trees." "But--" Neither of the men wanted to go up that ledge again. They might be hardened killers but they did not like the idea of facing a gun they could not see. "Go on back up, boys," Retch said. He lifted the muzzle of the gun he held. "But--" "Either go back up or you'll stay down here a long time!" They went back up the ledge. Retch retired to the shelter of the trees and watched. No shots came until they reached the mouth of the tunnel leading into the cliff. There, one of the men was killed. He fell backward from the ledge, screaming as he turned over and over. The falling man broke his way through the top of a tree and sprawled thudding on the ground. He did not move after he hit. Retch did not waste a second glance on him. Muffled but clearly audible, the blasting roar of the machine gun came from the tunnel. "He got in," Retch said. "Okay. Two more of you go up." Two more men went up the ledge. The entire population of the village had gathered to watch this storming of the cliff. They regarded Retch with wonder and with awe. Some of these men had been pirates in their day, they had known how to loot a tall ship, to kill its crew, to take over any wealth and any women it happened to carry. Watching Retch, they discovered they had been amateurs in the fine art of attacking and killing. They had needed a man from the modern world to show them how the job ought to be done. They were greatly impressed, Gotch most of all. Waving his sword, Gotch explained what he would do to that black priest, Rozeno, and to that cowardly Indian, Ulnar. Of all the listening group, only Peg-leg protested. "Yeah, you'll get them all right--if the Jezbro don't get you first!" Peg-leg said. Retch overheard the words. "Come here, Peg-leg, I want to talk to you." The old sailor stumped his way to where Retch stood. "Aye, Cap'n." He saluted. A look of surprise appeared on the old sailor's face as the first heavy slug hit him. As the second, third, and fourth slugs hit him, the expression of surprise became one of agony. He fell without a sound. * * * * * Retch stood looking down at him. The group was silent. Gotch hastily lowered his sword. "I don't want to hear any more superstitious talk," Retch said. "There are a lot of funny things here on this island but there is nothing to be afraid of--except _this_!" He patted the stock of the stumpy little gun he held. "And there's enough stuff up there to make all of us rich; we'll have everything we can ever want." A glow crept into Retch's eyes as he spoke. They glowed with a yellow color and the yellow seemed to come out of his eyes and spread over his face. He glanced down at Peg-leg. "Dump him into the sea," he said, walking away.