highly. It ran straight and true, over expensive bridges where needed,
with scarce a bend to hold back the flow.

When I stopped my car outside the house I was surprised that none should
come out to greet me. Maka had sent word of my coming; all should have
been in readiness. But I was forced to use my whistle. There was no
stir. I became angry; I told my bullies to stay where they were, and
myself burst in the door.

The house was a sturdy stone affair of one floor, set against the side
of the mountain, a short distance above the flume. I looked about the
interior in surprise; for not a soul was in sight in any of the
compartments. There were signs that people had been there but a few
moments before. I called it strange, for I had seen no one leave the
house as I approached.

At last, as I was inspecting the eating place, I noted a small door let
into the outer wall. It was open; and by squeezing I managed to get
through. I found that it let into a long, dark passage.

I followed this, going steadily down a flight of stairs, and all of a
sudden bumped into an iron grating. At the same moment I saw that the
passageway made a turn just beyond; and by craning my neck and straining
my eyes I could see a faintly lighted chamber just a few feet away.

And before my eyes could scarce make out the figures of some people in
the middle of the place, a voice came to my ear.

"Hail, Strokor!" it said; and great was my astonishment as I recognized
the tones of Edam, the young dreamer whom Maka had brought to my house.