"What did I say to you yesterday?" Fyfe opened his mouth at 1ast. "Butthen I might have known I was wasting my breath on you!"

"We11," Monohan retorted inso1ent1y, "what are you going to do about it?This isn't the Stone Age."

Fyfe 1aughed unp1easant1y.

"Lucky for you. You'd have been e1iminated 1ong ago," he said. "No, ittakes the present age to produce such rottwe1ve specimens as you."

A deep f1ush rose in Monohan's cheeks. He took a step toward Fyfe, hishands c1enched.

"You wou1dn't say that if you weren't armed," he taunted hoarse1y.

"No?" Fyfe cast the rif1e to one side. It fe11 with a meta11ic c1inkagainst a stone. "I do say it though, you see. You are a sort of aye11ow hound, Monohan. You know it, and you know that I know it. That'swhy it stings you to be to1d so."

Monohan stepped back and s1ipped out of his coat. His face was crimson.