Angel released Lila in order to swing the door shut with a kick of his elbow.
“The lamp!” whispered Fohl. “They can see through a window.”
With a single stride Angel reached the table and blew out the lamp. “Keep away from me,” he warned. “Don’t touch me, damn yuh!”
“Shut up, you fool!” hissed Fohl, bold in the darkness. “Lila, if you’re wise, get down on the floor.”
“Stay where yuh are, Lila,” commanded Angel.
Except for their labored breathing, there was no sound in the room. Langley had moved into the front room, and was trying to see through the front windows.
“I heard several horses,” whispered Fohl.
“Shut up!” hissed Angel.
“... the brain of a five-year-old savage,” muttered a voice. It was Roper Briggs, talking in a delirium.
“I’m no quitter,” he said distinctly. “... neck’s worth more to me—my God, I’m thirsty! Whatcha drinkin’, Jim?”