CHAPTER IV. The Ragged Edge. O'Higgins struck a match and lit his Henry Clay, thereby drawing upon himself the mutual disapproval of the spinsters. Covering his face with a crape mask, and taking the candle from his associate, Jack entered the room; and, pistol in hand, stepped up to the bed, and approached the light to the eyes of the sleepers. She resumed her on guard position, and glaring steadily at him, waited again. ’ ‘I know,’ he said, smiling. His mind was filled briefly with psychic images of a charnel house that danced like a spider in his head. She hoped the lights would become hot enough to melt her into the floor.
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