The total assets proved to be just three pairs of legs.

A pot of coffee had been on the fire, but that villain had kicked it over when he left.

The kettle of beans was there, but somehow we got the notion they might have been poisoned, so we left them.

I don't know now why we were so foolish--if poison was his game, he'd have tried it before--but at that time it seemed reasonable enough.

Perhaps the horror of the morning's work, and the sight of the brittle-brown mountains, and the ghastly yellow glare of the sun, and the blue waves racing by outside, and the big strong wind that blew through us so hard that it seemed to blow empty our souls, had turned our judgment.