"Few haff seen them there," declared Orlinov. "Yess. Few haff seen them. That would not be wise. Do you know why?"
Cliff shook his head.
"Because," Orlinov was speaking solemnly, "those men are dead. Dead! Yess! They are dead men."
"Dead men!" Cliff echoed the statement in spite of himself.
"Yess." The man was coldly emphatic. "They are dead men. Dead men who liff!" Dead men who live!
The thought chilled Cliff Marsland to the marrow. His teeth clenched, and his face hardened, as he stared at Ivan Orlinov. Had the huge Russian gone crazy? His tone was serious; his expression had been positive.
A strange, wild glow had come into Orlinov's eyes. Cliff began to rise from his chair, thinking that he was dealing with a maniac. Then the Russian motioned him back with an imperious gesture. Orlinov's face became quiet. Cliff relaxed.
"When dead men liff," declared the Russian slowly, "there must be a reason. Yess? I shall tell you what iss the reason. Those men haff been useful. Iss it not nice to know that because you haff been useful, you can liff when you haff been dead?"
Cliff was staring hard at Orlinov. He did not like the peculiar emphasis in the man's tone.
It seemed that every remark was directed toward himself. Cliff sensed a dangerous situation developing. He remained calm in spite of his qualms.