Fortune was still further with Billy. There was a pile of discarded bedding and clothing on the floor. If worst came he could stay where he was and be partially comfortable.
As he reached this conclusion a voice from below caused his heart to stand still.
"I thought I'd seen the last of yer. You got all I had—what more do you want with me?"
It was Jude Lauzoon who spoke.
"See here, son"; and the smooth tones filled Billy with an old fear; "that was all a big mistake. My hand was out of the game. St. Angé had taken the nerve out of me. I've got my steam up now." It was Jared Birkdale! and Billy had hoped he was never to see the man again. From his babyhood up, a look from Jared had had power to quell him when a blow from another might fail.
"Well, I ain't got nothing more to give you." Jude sounded sullen and ugly.
Through a crack in the floor Billy could see that it was Jude who was preparing the evening meal, while Jared, as usual, was taking his ease, and discoursing at his leisure.
"You've got more to give than what you know Jude, my boy. What you doing here, anyway?"
"You see what I'm doing. Here, take this hunk of bread, and come nearer so I can flip the bacon on."
The sight and smell made Billy's mouth water, even while something in him foretold danger.