Drinkard turned on him. "You collected five bucks from me by being on the other side of the fence. You were the man who was sure there would be some sign."
Royston looked at them with pale eyes.
"You are both muddling the waters. And you are both lying. There were lights on the peak when you were there and I have a feeling you saw them. They were quite a show from here."
"Then this is the place to see them from," said Chuck. "Closer up, you lose perspective."
Royston rose from his seat on the rock. "Friendship means nothing to you, so I will take my small hike back to the Lodge again. Actually, I came to say that tomorrow I leave this miserable place and go home. I have endured all the health I can stand."
"Now that," said Chuck, "is a different story. We're sorry to see you go, fella."
"Our regards to the swamps," John Drinkard put in. "Ten to one, when you get there, you'll wish you were back."
Carl Royston showed his big teeth in a mirthless smile.
"This," he said, "I very much doubt."
They watched him go around the turn in the trail. Then Drinkard took two strides to the rock where Royston had sat. He touched a finger tentatively to the stone and snatched it away.