The faint eerie light that glowed in the stranger?s deep-set eyes was not the lambent flame seen in the chatoyant orbs of some night-prowling jungle beast. Rather was it the blue-green glow of phosphorescent witch-light that flickers and dances in the night mists above steaming tropical swamps.
He sat in a small half-darkened booth well over in the corner-the man with the strangely glowing blue-green eyes.
The booth was one of a score that circled the walls of the ?Maori Hut,? a popular night club in the San Fernando Valley some five miles over the hills from Hollywood.