When the carpenter a moment afterwards stretched out his hand, scarcely knowing whether he was alive or dead, he found himself alone. “I didn’t understand, Vee. Gosse must now fight with his back to the altar, and a dais at his heels. Taking a firm grasp of his pistol, Gerald eased back, let go the handle of the door, and at the same instant, swung his booted foot. From the unlovely hillside his glance strayed to the several five-story towers of the pawnshops. “Your father is dead too, I believe,” he continued, “and your mother. They sat down in a covered pavilion that housed a grimy picnic table and a dingy fire pit.
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