"If I could only rouse Bradley," he said to himself, "I should feel
more comfortable. I don't like the responsibility of deciding what
is best to be done."
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of low voices below.
Evidently Carter and his wife were conversing, and probably about
them. Anxious to hear what was said, as this might give him a clue
to their plans, Ben rose softly from his low couch, and drew near
the edge of the opening through which he had mounted into the loft.
In this position he was able to hear what was said.
"They must have money," said Carter. "They would need it to get them
out to the mines. Whatever it is, I am bound to have it."
"The man seems strong," replied the wife. "You may not find it an
easy task to master him."
"What can he do?" returned Carter contemptuously. "He is in a dead
sleep. I put enough stuff into his wine to keep him in a stupor for
twelve good hours. If I'm not a match for a sleeping man, I'll go
and hang myself."
"But the boy-he took no wine."
"No; he's one of them temperance sneaks. But he's only a baby. I
could lay him out with one hand."
"Don't harm him, Jack!" said the woman. "I can't help feeling kindly
to him.
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