His mind was filled briefly with psychic images of a charnel house that danced like a spider in his head. She could not see clearly. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. She thought about just asking him to take 116 her to his place and get it over with, but she reconsidered and decided to attempt to get to know him better. But, when he got to the door with this intention, he became ashamed of his fears; and feeling convinced that Jack —bad as he might be—was not capable of such atrocious conduct as to plunder his benefactor twice, he contented himself with looking to the priming of his pistols, and placing them near him, to be ready in case of need, he threw himself on the bed and speedily fell asleep.
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