"I kill him, once, twice," said the lad.
"Ye would, eh? Sure, I've always labored under the impression that killin' a man once is enough. 'Tis myself that can see the satisfaction it would be to whack him one with the ax, Ben, but ye'd be robbing the hangman."
"I kill him," repeated the half-witted lad.
"Not with that ax, anyway," said McGinnis wrenching it from his grasp and tossing it to one of the men who stood by. "I'm thinkin', Merritt, that we'd better take the boy away. When he's sot, there's no changin' him."
"You fellers had best take one o' my ponies," spoke up one of the sawyers; "I've got a string here, an' you can send him back any time. An' I guess it wouldn't be healthy here for Ben right now."
"All right, Phil," said McGinnis; "I'll go along with you and get him."
As soon as McGinnis was out of the way, Peavey Jo stepped up to where the Supervisor was sitting in the saddle. Ben had been standing beside him since McGinnis took the ax, but now he shrank back to Wilbur's side.
"You t'ink me beaten, hey?" he said, showing his teeth in an angry snarl; "you wait and see."
"I don't know whether you're beaten or no," said Merritt contemptuously, "but any one can see that you've been licked."
"You t'ink this forest good place. By Gar, I make him so bad you ashamed to live here."