"Did you hear me, old man?" Stacy asked.

Webenhaus said nothing.

Stacy's eyes bulged slightly. "Old man," he repeated.

Webenhaus looked at him again and smiled slightly. "Yes?"

"Did you hear me?" ' . ' -

"I heard you, Herr Stacy."

"You're going to die," Stacy said.

"We will all die," Webenhaus replied softly.

"I'm going to kill you, you fat old kraut."

"I know."

"And?"

Webenhaus turned back to his chessboard. "This is a most interesting problem," he said, and castled the white pieces on the queen's side. "There seems to be no way out."

Roger Stacy clenched his fists and stepped toward the chessboard.

Webenhaus moved the black king's knight and began to whistle something almost Mozartean.

Stacy unleashed a powerful, clumsy kick that sent Webenhaus sprawling across his table, scattering the chessmen and clattering the board to the plywood floor of the tent.

"I'll be back for you, you bastard," Stacy said, pushing his way through the tent flap. Webenhaus lay on the floor, looking like an off-center stuffed owl. In the corner of the tent, the child began to stir.

The company seaplane that was to take Webenhaus's party back to civilization did not come the next day as it was supposed to. Nor the day after. Nor the day after that. It could not come for more than a week because of the rains, and then it was delayed for another week because the stream that ran by the camp was too swollen and wild for the plane to land. j

When the plane finally arrived, the camp had been j burned. Cartons were strewn everywhere. Wisps of f smoke still drifted toward the sky. The pilot's name was !

6

Jesus, and as he circled overhead he uttered, "Holy Mary, mother of God." He crossed himself twice and began to fly off.