anyway, because most of the time they couldn't a treed me because I didn't breathe.  I was too scared.  And, besides, a body _couldn't_ breathe and hear such talk.  They talked low and earnest.  Bill wanted to kill Turner.  He says: “He's said he'll tell, and he will.  If we was to give both our shares to him _now_ it wouldn't make no difference after the row and the way we've served him.  Shore's you're born, he'll turn State's evidence; now you hear _me_.  I'm for putting him out of his troubles.” “So'm I,” says Packard, very quiet. “Blame it, I'd sorter begun to think you wasn't.  Well, then, that's all right.  Le's go and do it.” “Hold on a minute; I hain't had my say yit.  You listen to me. Shooting's good, but there's quieter ways if the thing's _got_ to be done. But what I say is this:  it ain't good sense to go court'n around after a halter if you can git at what you're up to in some way that's jist as good and at the same time don't bring you into no resks.  Ain't that so?” “You bet it is.  But how you goin' to manage it this time?” “Well, my idea is this:  we'll rustle around and gather up whatever pickins we've overlooked in the staterooms, and shove for shore and hide the truck. Then we'll wait.  Now I say it ain't a-goin' to be more'n two hours befo' this wrack breaks up and washes off down the river.  See? He'll be drownded, and won't have nobody to blame for it but his own self.  I reckon that's a considerble sight better 'n killin' of him.  I'm unfavorable to killin' a man as long as you can git aroun' it; it ain't good sense, it ain't good morals.  Ain't I right?” “Yes, I reck'n you are.  But s'pose she _don't_ break up and wash off?” “Well, we can wait the two hours anyway and see, can't we?” “All right, then; come along.” So they started, and I lit out, all in a cold sweat, and scrambled forward. It was dark as pitch there; but I said, in a kind of a coarse whisper, “Jim!” and he answered up, right at my elbow, with a sort of a moan, an