anyway, because most of the time they couldn't 'a' treed me
because I didn't breathe. I was too scared. And, besides, a body
_couldn't_ breathe and hear such talk. They talked low and earnest.
Bill wanted to kill Turner. He says:

"He's said he'll tell, and he will. If we was to give both our shares
to him _now_ it wouldn't make no difference after the row and the way
we've served him. Shore's you're born, he'll turn state's evidence;
now you hear _me._ I'm for putting him out of his troubles."

"So'm I," says Packard, very quiet.

"Blame it, I'd sorter begun to think you wasn't. Well, then, that's
all right. Le's go and do it."

"Hold on a minute; I hain't had my say yit. You listen to me.
Shooting's good, but there's quieter ways if the things _got_ to be
done. But what _I_ say is this: it ain't good sense to go court'n'
around after a halter if you can git at what you're up to in some way
that's jist as good and at the same time don't bring you into no
resks. Ain't that so?"

"You bet it is. But how you goin' to manage it this time?"

"Well, my idea is this: we'll rustle around and gather up whatever
pickin's we've overlooked in the staterooms, and shove for shore and
hide the truck. Then we'll wait. Now I say it ain't a-goin' to be
more'n two hours befo' this wrack breaks up and washes off down the
river. See? He'll be drownded, and won't have nobody to blame for it
but his own self. I reckon that's a considerable sight better 'n
killin' of him. I'm unfavorable to killin' a man as long as you can
git aroun' it; it ain't good sense, it ain't good morals. Ain't I
right?"

"Yes, I reck'n you are. But s'pose she _don't_ break up and wash off?"

"Well, we can wait the two hours anyway and see, can't we?"

"All right, then; come along."

So they started, and I lit out, all in a cold sweat, and scrambled
forward. It was dark as pitch there; but I said, in a kind of a coarse
whisper, "Jim!" and he answered up, right at my elbow, with a sort of
a moan, and I says:

"Quick, Jim, it ain't no time for fooling around and moaning; there's
a gang of murderers in yonder, and if we don't hunt up their boat and
set her drifting down the river so these fellows can't get away from
the wreck there's one of 'em going to be in a bad fix. But if we find
their boat we can put _all_ of 'em in a bad fix--for the sheriff 'll
get 'em. Quick--hurry! I'll hunt the labboard side, you hunt the
stabboard. You start at the raft, and--"