“Well, one or t’other must die.”
“How do you mean? I or the colonel?”
“Just so; we’ve come to that agreement. Now it depends upon you which it is.”
“Why, then, the colonel, of course,” said Jack, laughing, and half drunk, “the colonel, of course. I wouldn’t think of having the honour myself jet awhile, you know, Bates.”
“That’s what all of us thought.”
“And the lads were right. I hate Blood; yes, I hate him worse than the devil himself.”
“And what do you intend to do?”
“Why, waylay him and give him a sly poke in the ribs; for if he’s not put out of the way soon, all of us will be hung, one by one, when he’s served his turn with each.”
“That’s my idea, and also the opinion of every man in the Dozen.”
“Look you here,” said Jack, suddenly brightening up, “if the colonel has made up his mind to act in such a rascally manner towards me, I can do so towards him.”