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"Well, never again."

King put down his empty glass. "Good night.

"Good night."

He went through the doorway into the open and down the steps. His footfalls crunched on the bed of the dry creek. The return of Neville overwhelmed them. The old man held a lighted lantern, and fumbled impatiently at the wick. "Where's King?" he demanded, lifting shaggy eyebrows over the top.

"Gone home a moment ago," Maud said.

"Er! I knew as much. He knows what he's about. I meant him to come with me."

"He's good company," Power said, settling again in the old seat.

"I love him," Maud said. "One moment he makes me laugh and the next he makes me think. I don't know yet whether he is a wise man or a mountebank."

"Where does he come from?" Power asked. "You said he was a solicitor, didn't you?"

The old man snapped down the glass of the hurricane lamp.

"I heard tell he was a solicitor somewhere and got kicked out. As soon as he touches money he can't go straight. He would sell his mother up. Huh, huh! He's a gentleman to walk shy of while you've a few pounds to spare. Go to him for a goat, and he'll sell you one of mine. He has done business over half the fowls on the lease, though he never owned a feather. He, he! I can't help respecting his abilities. He's got a finger in most copper shows within fifty miles. The silly coves get him to draw up their agreements, and he takes care that his name comes in somewhere or other." Neville chuckled himself to the end of his tale, then said, "You had better be away, Power. I'm going to bed when I get back." He went through the door.