"You're a cheerful guy," commented Dopey Charlie;
"but you may be right at dat. Dey can't hang a guy any
higher fer two 'an they can fer one an' dat's no pipe;
so wots de use. Wait till I take a shot--it'll be easier,"
and he drew a small, worn case from an inside pocket,
bared his arm to the elbow and injected enough mor-
phine to have killed a dozen normal men.
From a pile of mouldy hay across the barn the youth,
heavy eyed but sleepless, watched the two through half
closed lids. A qualm of disgust sent a sudden shudder
through his slight frame. For the first time he almost re-
gretted having embarked upon a life of crime. He had
seen that the two men were conversing together earn-
estly, though he could over-hear nothing they said, and
that he had been the subject of their nocturnal colloquy,
for several times a glance or a nod in his direction as-
sured him of this. And so he lay watching them--not
that he was afraid, he kept reassuring himself, but
through curiosity. Why should he be afraid? Was it not
a well known truth that there was honor among thieves?
But the longer he watched the heavier grew his lids.
Several times they closed to be dragged open again only
by painful effort.
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