"Put out that flash light, Jerry.

We may need that after a while, and the batteries won't last forever." He sat down, as he spoke, cross-legged, and the last thing Jerry saw, as he snapped out the light, was the lean, intense face and the blazing eyes of Ronicky Doone.

Decidedly this was not a fellow to trifle with.
If he trembled for himself and Ronicky, he could also spare a shudder for what would happen to Frederic Fernand, if Ronicky got away.

In the meantime the light was out, and the darkness sat heavily beside and about them, with that faint succession of inaudible breathing sounds which are sensed rather than actually heard.
"Is there anything that we can do ?" asked Jerry suddenly.

"It's all right to sit down and argue and worry, but isn't it foolish, Ronicky ?" "How come ?" "I mean it in this way.