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Updated: June 3, 2025
They might just as well be friends. Mother's knock would disturb them soon enough. A noise roused him from his waking death. It was the shuffling of feet. Old Toadie heard it too, and snarled across his shoulder. "Who the hell's that?" In the darkness there was a falling flash. It was Blob; Blob, the brave, who had fulfilled his orders and more.
Toadie, the squat brute, with the front teeth; Whitey, the albino, peering and prying; One-eye, Humpy, Bandy and the rest all labelled like dogs from some physical deformity. Once and for all they slew in the boy's mind the Romance of Crime. Death indeed; death in life. He read it in their faces. Yes; it was all true.
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