d happen. I'm shamefully curious.'

'You are a fool! It might have cost you your life.'

'You certainly do not show any particular respect for human life.' Jim
released the other's arm.

'For Christ's sake don't leave me!' moaned Stony. 'He means murder!'

'I have told you I value this man's life. I tell you again I have no
intention of killing him, but I hate him so that the ravenous desire to
crush the soul out of him is hard to resist. There is a story he must
tell me; when that is told he may go. If he refuses to tell there is no
power on God's earth to keep me from my vengeance. But he shall tell--the
craven shall tell! There'll be no further mischief done, I promise you.
Leave us.'

'For the love of Heaven!' pleaded Stony. 'He'll kill! He'll kill!'

'I have your word,' said Jim.

'My word of honour,' answered Ryder.

'If it's broken, I swear to help you to your hanging.'

'I tell you, I want this man alive.'

'Good-night!'

'Help!' screamed Stony; but the other's hand was at his throat again.

'Listen, you foul cur!' Ryder said. 'I mean to spare you, but you must
tell--tell all!'

Jim Done turned and walked away, leaving the enemies alone. Next morning
he saw Stony moving about his tent, and experienced a feeling of relief.
He had been unable to divest himself of a sense of responsibility for the
safety of the miserable hatter.

By this time quite a strong friendship had grown up between the three
Peetrees and Done and Burton. Joshua Peetree, whom the twins called Josh,
with a friendly absence of formalities, was found in his sober moments to
share the moral qualities of his sons, and had the same quiet,
deliberative manner of speech, as if every sentence, even those of the
most insignificant character, were subjected to two or three successive
processes of investigation internally before delivery. Indeed, the men
spoke so little en famille that they might have lost ordinary power of
easy articulation. Speech was hardly necessary between the three; they
understood each other by something very like telepathic divination. At
least, so it appeared to Done, who was puzzled again and again to see the
ideas of one brother anticipated by the other, and his wishes met without
any communication, audible or visible, to the third person. Men who have
lived together in the Bush for the better part of their lives, cut off
from other society and outside interest, often develop this quaint
instinct of mutual app