Pierre, with hardly a movement of his facial muscles, returned Zephyr's salutation. From his manner no one would have suspected that, had someone with sufficient reason inquired as to the whereabouts of Zephyr, Pierre would have replied confidently that the sought-for person was bobbing down the San Miguel with a little round hole through his head. Zephyr's presence in the flesh simply told him that, for some unknown reason, his plan had miscarried. Zephyr lazily rolled a cigarette and placed it between his lips. He raised his eyes languidly to Pierre's. "M'sieu Pierre mek one slick plan. Ze Rainbow Company work ze mine, ze mill. _Moi_, Pierre, mek ze gol' in mon cellaire." Zephyr blew forth the words in a cloud of smoke. Pierre started and looked around. His hand made a motion toward his hip pocket. Zephyr dropped his bantering tone. "Not yet, Frenchy. You'll tip over more soup kettles than you know of." He dropped the flattened bullet on the table and pointed to it. "That was a bad break on your part. It might have been worse for you as well as for me, if your man hadn't been a bad shot." Pierre reached for the bullet, but Zephyr gathered it in. "Not yet, M'sieur. It was intended for me, and I'll keep it, as a token of respect. I know M'sieur Pierre. Wen M'sieur Pierre bin mek up ze min' for shoot, M'sieur Pierre bin say,'_Comment!_ Zat fellaire he bin too damn smart _pour moi_.' Thanks! Me and Firmstone are much obliged." Pierre shrugged his shoulders impatiently. Zephyr noted the gesture. "Don't stop there, M'sieur. Get up to your head. You're in a mess, a bad one. Shake your wits. Get up and walk around. Explode some _sacrés_. Pull out a few handfuls of hair and scatter around. No good looking daggers. The real thing won't work on me, and you'd only get in a worse mess if it did. That's Firmstone, too. We both are more valuable to you alive than dead. Of what value is it to a man to do two others, if he gets soaked in the neck himself?" Pierre was angered. It was useless to try to conceal it. His swarthy cheeks grew livid. "_Sacré!_" he blurted. "What you mean in hell?" "That's better. Now you're getting down to business. When I find a man that's up against a thing too hard for him, I don't mind giving him a lift." "You lif' and bedam!" Pierre had concluded that pretensions were useless with Zephyr, and he gave his passion full play. Even if he made breaks with Zephyr, he would be no worse off.