His thumbs were pressing on Mulveen's eyes now, but Mulveen's strong fingers were still on his throat. He felt something give. Mulveen went on bellowing, but also slowly choking the life out of him. He shifted his hands to Mulveen's mouth. He pulled at the lips. He yanked with all his remaining strength and there was suddenly a pure animal scream of pain and a quick flow of hot blood across his hand and a release of the terrible pressure around his throat. He got up. Mulveen's face was torn. Mulveen lifted his hand weakly. There was a knife in it. Gilbert slapped out at the hand and the knife dropped. Gilbert caught it, held the point at Mulveen's throat. "I could kill you," Gilbert said. Mulveen whined: "Don't! Please, you've earned the money. The money is yours!" He could kill Mulveen, yes--but would one of the Earthmen of the islands, the real Earthmen, have done that? They would have been content with victory--and with shaming the outworlder Mulveen in front of the beaters and trackers. "Don't come back to Earth," Gilbert said. "Ever. We don't want you here. Put that in writing too." "I will. I will, I swear!" Mulveen was cowering. Arnaud came to them, smiling. "Great work, Gil--" he began. Gilbert hit him and the tracker went sprawling in the mud. He came up snarling but looked at Gilbert and muttered a curse and did nothing. Later, a completely beaten Mulveen, his face swathed in bandages, counted out the credits. "Make it ten thousand," Gilbert told him. "Five thousand for Wenzi." Mulveen counted out ten thousand credits. "But you'll have to lead us back to civilization," he said. Gilbert looked at Arnaud. "He will," Gilbert told Mulveen. "I'm not a guide now. I'm a man. An Earthman." Mulveen looked at him. Mulveen did not smile. Something in Mulveen's face, in his eyes, spoke clearly of the day when Earthmen would regain their heritage. Mulveen was afraid. Gilbert took Wenzi's hand and walked off into the swamp. They would buy a boat. And after that....