Five days passed, peaceably. The natives gave the post a wide margin; not even Bila showed his face. Dillon began to think that maybe there was a chance things would go back to normal by themselves; and that Cassidy's plan would not be necessary.
The first four days were merely a continuation of the heat. The two Earthmen sat around the office, speaking only when it was absolutely unavoidable, and then only in snarls. Dillon sent out a rush request for air conditioning equipment, omitted, by some mistake, from the supplies.
The fifth day was as sunny as ever, but a stiff west wind sprang up, and the temperature was bearable. Cassidy smiled for the first time in days, and Dillon tried to be pleasant to him.
The sixth day broke with an unceasing torrent of rain, and the men returned to their surly grumbling.
"I hope the post isn't washed away," said Cassidy. "This storm begins to assume the aspects of the Biblical flood."
"We're safe enough," said Dillon. "Only...."
"Only what?"
"Nothing. Just a hunch."
"Good or bad?"
"Bad. All bad. I've got a feeling we're due for a visit."