136
WILD FOLK
The eyes under the mild forehead flamed red and horrible and the dripping body quivered for another throat-hold.
"Seems like Mr. Blackcat wants 'em both," murmured the old man, discreetly withdrawing from the farther side of the copse. Jim gazed into the flaming eyes a moment longer and then followed his uncle.
"He don't look so blame innocent after all," he observed.
