'What do you wish us to do now?' Keramikos asked as the last one was split open to reveal its unprofitable contents.
But Mayne was not listening. His eyes roved over the machinery, the switchboard and the walls. 'It's in here somewhere,' he said. 'I'm certain of it. And I'll find it if I have to tear the place to pieces.'
'Suppose we have a drink and consider the matter?' Engles suggested.
Mayne looked at him. He hesitated. He had lost his self-confidence. 'All right,' he said. His voice was toneless. 'Put those things back in the hole and fill it in.' He indicated the bodies dumped on top of the earth in a grotesque pile.
When we had roughly filled in the hole, we carried the tools back to the hut. The snow seemed to be slackening, but it was bitterly cold and the wind drove right through my wet clothes. Joe was sitting snugly by the stove, reading. 'What in God's name have you people been up to now?' he asked. 'I was getting worried. What have you been doing with those things — gardening?' He indicated the tools we were carrying.
'No. Digging for gold,' Engles answered.
Joe grunted. 'You look as though you'd been examining the sewage system.'
Mayne went upstairs. Joe got up from his chair. 'This is a hell of a crazy place,' he said. His words were directed at Engles. 'First you say there's been a row between you and Mayne. Then you disappear with him, the whole gang of you. Valdini and the Contessa shut themselves up in their room. Suppose you tell me just what is going on.'
Engles said, 'Sit down and relax, Joe. You're paid as a cameraman, not as a nursemaid.'
'Yes, but this is ridiculous, old man,' he persisted. 'Something is going on here—'