"Now see here!" said Jim. "What's the use of beating round the bush? We're all crazy for fresh meat. The only thing to do is to draw lots to see who'll sacrifice his feelings and do the shooting. We'll settle that now."
He cut four toothpicks into uneven lengths.
"Filippo's not in this."
He had noticed that the Italian's olive face had grown pale.
"Now come up and draw like men!"
The lot fell to Lane.
"You're it, Budge! Don't be a quitter! There's the gun and here's our last shell. Don't miss!"
Lane's lips tightened. But he took the gun, put in the shell, and started up over the bank.
"Don't follow me," he flung back. "I'll do this alone."
Five minutes of silence followed. Then—bang!