"White Henshaw's overdue." "Look at this here water," went on Hovey, with a tempting wave of his hand.

"Why not take this up an' help yourselves--after you've given us Henshaw ?" Sloan crowded in between Harrigan and McTee; his voice was a slavering murmur: "For pity's sake, boys, what we going to do ?" Harrigan and the big Scot exchanged glances.

Faintly and slowly they smiled.

There was a profound mutual understanding in that smile.
"I'm dying," went on Sloan eagerly and still in that slavering voice.
"I'm burnin' up inside.

For God's sake let 'em take him and finish him off!" And always as he spoke his quick eyes went back and forth from face to face.