Clinch probably possessed it. Smith was now convinced of that. But he was there to rob Clinch of it himself. For he had promised the little Grand Duchess to help recover her Erosite jewel; and now that he had finally traced its probable possession to Clinch, he was wondering how this recovery was to be accomplished. To arrest Clinch meant ruin to Eve Strayer. Besides he knew now that Clinch would die in prison before revealing the hiding place of the Flaming Jewel. Also, how could it be proven that Clinch had the Erosite gem? The cipher from Quintana was not sufficient evidence. No; the only way was to watch Clinch, prevent any robbery by Quintana's gang, somehow discover where the Flaming Jewel had been concealed, take it, and restore it to the beggared young girl whose only financial resource now lay in the possible recovery of this almost priceless gem. * * * * * Toward evening Hal Smith shot two deer near Owl Marsh. To poach on his own property appealed to his sense of humour. And Clinch, never dreaming that Hal Smith was the James Darragh who had inherited Harrod's vast preserve, damned all millionaires for every buck brought in, and became friendlier to Smith. II Clinch's dump was the disposal plant in which collected the human sewage of the wilderness. It being Saturday, the scum of the North Woods was gathering at the Star Pond resort. A venison and chicken supper was promised--and a dance if any women appeared. Jake Kloon had run in some Canadian hooch; Darragh, alias Hal Smith, contributed two fat deer and Clinch cooked them. By ten o'clock that morning many of the men were growing noisy; some were already drunk by noon. Shortly after midday dinner the first fight started--extinguished only after Clinch had beaten several of the backwoods aristocracy insensible. Towering amid the wreck of battle, his light grey eyes a-glitter, Clinch dominated, swinging his iron fists. When the combat ended and the fallen lay starkly where they fell, Clinch said in his pleasant, level voice: "Take them out and stick their heads in the pond. And don't go for to get me mad, boys, or I'm liable to act up rough." They bore forth the sleepers for immersion in Star Pond. Clinch relighted his cigar and repeated the rulings which had caused the fracas: "You gotta play square cards here or you don't play none in my house. No living thumb-nail can nick no cards in my place and get away with it. Three kings and two trays is better than three chickens and two eggs. If you don't like it, g'wan home." He went out in his shirt sleeves to see how the knock-outs were reviving, and met Hal Smith returning from the pond, who reported progress toward consciousness. They walked back to the "hotel" together. "Say, young fella," said Clinch in his soft, agreeable way, "you want to keep your eye peeled to-night." "Why?" inquired Smith.