Still, it was the breaking of the kerosene lamp that had finally rallied them; in part because there’d only been two for the entire house and in part because it had started a small but dangerous fire not three feet from the curtains—a fire that had to be beat out even as he mocked their ineffectiveness and continued his tirade; a tirade that by that point had become not so much a rant as a veritable call to arms.
“Becuz what it comes down to,” he was saying, as they poured him into bed and removed the lantern from his room, “uldimedly, is the weak vers’ the strong. It’s always been th’weak vers’ the strong. You know? Amirite?”
“You’re right, buddy. You’re right on the money.” Nick pulled the blankets over him boots and all and headed for the door. “You get some sleep now, hear? We’re goi
