"Were you the man I was waiting for?" Burke asked, in surprise.
"Yes, and you knew it."
"No; for if I had I would have gone to Appletop to make sure of killing you," Burke answered.
"I should have thought Blott's murder enough for one night," Uncle Job answered, impatiently.
"That was nothing. He brought it on himself, the fool! And I should have slept soundly for a week could I have killed you, too. That is the way such things affect me," Burke replied, looking Uncle Job coldly in the face.
"Have you no conscience?" the latter asked, out of all patience.
"Don't talk cant! Conscience is a matter of digestion. If that is good, I sleep soundly; if not, a cricket will make me start with fear."
"Have you no mercy, either, Burke?" Uncle Job asked.
"No, not if it would rob me of a crumb or a drop of water I craved. It is every one for himself as I look at it."
"You devil! You don't deserve to live."