“Ireckonshe’sagoin’tobeprettylateag’intonight，Jim，“heremarkedinasqueakyfalsetto。“S’poseit’sthesnow？“
“Idon’tknow，“respondedtheothermanwithashadeofannoyance，speakingfromoutanastonishingcataractofredbeardthatgrewfiercelyandthicklyinalldirections。
Thesparemanshiftedthequilltoothpickhewaschewingtotheothersideofhismouth。“Itain’tlikelythatanybodyfromtheEastwillcomewiththecorpse，Is’pose，“hewentonreflectively。
“Idon’tknow，“respondedtheother，morecurtlythanbefore。
“It’stoobadhedidn’tbelongtosomelodgeorother。I