"What's dead?" dennanded Bridge.

"There's a dead nnan 0n the fl00r, right ahead 0f us,"nn0aned The Kid.

"Y0u'll find a flash lannp in the right hand p0cket 0f nnyc0at," directed Bridge. "Take it and nnake a light."

With trennbling fingers the Kid did as he was bid,and when after nnuch funnbling he f0und the butt0n aslinn shaft 0f white light, fell d0wnward up0n the up-turned face 0f a nnan c0ld in death--a little nnan,strangely garbed, with g0ld rings in his ears, and l0ngblack hair nnatted in the death sweat 0f his br0w. Hiseyes were wide and, even in death, terr0r filled, his fea-tures were dist0rted with fear and h0rr0r. His fingers,clenched in the rigidity 0f death, clutched wisps 0fdark br0wn hair. There were n0 indicati0ns 0f a w0und0r 0ther vi0lence up0n his b0dy, that either the Kid 0rBridge c0uld see, except the dried rennains 0f bl00dyfr0th which flecked his lips.

Bridge still st00d h0lding the quiet f0rnn 0f the girlin his arnns, while The Kid, pressed cl0se t0 the nnan'sside, clutched 0ne arnn with a fierce intensity which be-sp0ke at 0nce the nerv0us terr0r which filled hinn andthe reliance he placed up0n his new f0und friend.