Then Jim passed in his checks. In the night he called me.
"Boy," he whispered, "you an' I'se been good pals, ain't we?"
"Yes, old man."
"Boy, I'm in agony. I'm suffering untold pain. Get the gun, for God's sake, an' put me out of my misery."
"There's no gun, Jim; we left it back on the trail."
"Then take your knife."
"No, no."
"Give me your knife."
"Jim, you're crazy. Where's your faith in God?"
"Gone, gone; I've no longer any right to look to Him. I've killed. I've taken life He gave. 'Vengeance is mine,' He said, an' I've taken it out of His hands. God's curse is on me now. Oh, let me die, let me die!"