"Howly Sint Patherick!" gurgled Barney Mulloy. "Oi sh'u'd soay not! Ixchuse us from thot, me hearty!"
"That would be as bad as murder!" exclaimed Frank. "There would be one vote against us—one black bean thrown, at least."
Muriel nodded.
"I judge you-uns is right."
"Pwhat av th' carruds?"
"Yes, what of them?"
"Two men will be chosen, one ter hold a pack o' cards, and one to draw a card from them. Ef ther card is red, it lets you-uns off, fer it means life; ef it is black, it cooks yer, fer it means death."
The boys were silent, dumfounded, appalled.
It was a lottery of life and death.
Muriel stood watching them, and Frank fancied that his eyes were gleaming with satisfaction. The boy began to believe he had mistaken the character of this astonishing youth; Muriel might be even worse than his older companions, for he might be one who delighted in torturing his victims.