He was stabbed, but his tongue lay dead in the tomb of his mouth.

He threw himself again upon the ground and began to brood.
The tattered man stood musing.
"Look-a-here, pardner," he said, after a time.

He regarded the corpse as he spoke.

"He 's up an' gone, ain't 'e, an' we might as well begin t' look out fer ol' number one.

This here thing is all over.