Every light of the camp was on as Rawson and his assistant approached. A shallow depression in the sand marked the place where the big casting had been. Beyond it a hundred feet was a black swarm of men that parted as the car drew near. They had been gathered about a figure upon the sand. Dean sensed something peculiar about that figure as the big car ploughed to a stop. He leaped out and ran forward. He knew it was Riley there on the ground, knew it while still he was a score of feet away. Only when he was close, however, did he realize that the body ended in two stubs of legs; only when he leaned above him did he know that the Irish foreman's big frame had been cut in two as if by a knife. The severed legs lay a short distance beyond the body; they had fallen side by side in horrible awkwardness, their stumps of flesh protruding from charred clothing--and suddenly, shockingly, Rawson knew that the flesh of body and legs had been seared. The knife had been hot--its blade had been forged of flame! He heard Smithy cursing softly, unconsciously, at his side. "The green light," Smithy was saying in horrified understanding. "But who did it? How did they do it? Where did they go?" "Quiet!" ordered Rawson sharply. He dropped to his knees beside the mutilated body. Riley's eyes had opened in a sudden movement of consciousness. * * * * * The voice that came from his lips was a ghastly whisper at first, but in that stricken thing that had been the body of Riley, foreman of the night drilling crew, some reservoir of strength must still have remained untapped. He drew upon it now. His voice roared again as it had done so many times before through the Tonah Basin camp. It reached to every listening ear where crowding men stood hushed and motionless; and the overtone of terror that altered its customary timber was apparent to all. "Devils!" said Riley. "Devils, straight out o' hell!... I saw 'em--I saw 'em plain!... I shot--as if hot lead could harm the imps of Satan.... "Oh, sir,"--his eyes had found those of Dean Rawson who was leaning above--"for the love of hivin, Mister Rawson, do ye be quittin' drillin'. The place is damned. L'ave it, sir; go away...." His eyes closed. But he started up once more; he raised his head from the sand with one final convulsive movement, and his voice was high and shrill. "The fire! The fire of hell! He's turnin' it on me! God help...." But Riley, before his failing mind could recall again that torturing jet of flame, must have slipped away into a darkness as softly enveloping as the velvet shadow world behind the low-hung stars. Rawson's hand that felt for a moment above the heart, confirmed the message of the closed eyes and the head that fell inertly back. He came slowly to his feet. "Keep the floods on!" he ordered. "Take command of the armed guard, Smithy; keep the whole camp patrolled." Then to the men: