"Hands up, men!" he said quietly. For a moment the two were paralyzed, but the thick-set man, whose instincts were quicker, obeyed slowly. The other one started to laugh.
"Up!" called the old man sternly, levelling one pistol, and the laugh stopped, the man's face paled, and his hands flew high.
"Git their guns fer a minute, Jasie, an' put em' up hyeh on the mantel.
A hundred thousand dollars is a LEETLE too much."
The kitchen door opened and again the old woman peered through her spectacles within.
"I knowed you wouldn't do it, pap," she said. "Dinner's ready—come on in now, men, an' git a bite to eat."
The thin man's shifty eyes roved to his companion, who had almost begun to smile and who muttered to himself as he rose:
"Well, by God!"
In utter silence the meal went through, except that the old man, with his pistols crossed in his lap, kept urging his guests to the full of their appetites. Jason ate like a wolf.
"Git a poke, mammy," said old Jason when the boy dropped knife and fork, "an' fill it full o' victuals."
And still with a smile the thick-set man watched her gather food from the table, put it in a paper sack, and hand it to the boy.