Captain Francis Newcombe spoke. There was something debonair in his voice in spite of its laboured utterance:
"The house divided, Runnells. Do you remember that night in the thicket?"
There was no answer.
Again Captain Francis Newcombe spoke:
"I've saved two shots. Will you have one, Runnells? Suffocation's a rotten way to go out."
"No!" Runnells screamed. "No, no—my Gawd—no!"
Captain Francis Newcombe's laugh was choked and gasping.
"You always were a stinking coward, Runnells," he said. "Well, suit yourself."
The tongue flame of a revolver lanced through the blackness.
Runnells screamed and screamed again. Sprawling on the floor, his hand fell upon the package of bank notes he had dropped there. He tore at them now in his raving, tore them to pieces, tore and tore and tore—and screamed.