Jolly Roger was strangely quiet, and Peter could not hear Nada, and as he sniffed, and gulped the lump in his throat, he seemed to catch the breath of something impending in the air.

Then Jolly Roger came in, and sat down in darkness near the table, and for a long time Peter kept his eyes fixed on the shadowy blotch of him there in the gloom, and listened to his breathing, until he could stand it no longer, and whined.
The sound stirred Jolly Roger.

He got up, struck a match--and then blew the match out, and came and sat down beside Peter, and stroked him with his hand.
"Peter," he said in a low voice, "I guess we've got a job on our hands.
You began it today--and I've got to finish it.

We're goin' to kill Jed Hawkins!" Peter snuggled closer.
"Mebby I'm bad, and mebby the law ought to have me," Jolly Roger went on in the darkness, "but until tonight I never made up my mind to kill a man.

I'm ready--now.