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Prew did not tell Jack Malloy what he intended to do until after Berry had died. He knew what he was going to do before Berry died, but he waited till then to tell Malloy.

“I’m going to kill him,” Prew said. “I’m going to wait till I get out of here and then I’m going to hunt him up and kill him. But I’m not going to be stupid like Berry was and go around advertising it. I’ll keep my mouth shut and wait till I get my chance.”

“He needs to be killed,” Malloy said. “He ought to be killed. But it wont do a damned bit of good to kill him.”

“It’ll do me some good,” Prew said. “It’ll do me a lot of good. It may even make me into a man again.”

“You couldn’t kill a man in cold blood,” Malloy said. “Even if you wanted to.”

“I dont aim to kill Fatso in cold blood,” Prew said. “He’ll get an even break. Theres a bar he hangs out at downtown all the time; I’ve heard some of the guys talk about it, and about how he always carries a knife. I’ll kill him with a knife. He’ll have as good a chance at me with his knife as I’ll have at him with mine. Only—he wont kill me; I’ll kill him. And nobody’ll ever know who did it and I’ll go on back home to the Compny and forget it just like you forget other carrion.”

“It wont do any good to kill him,” Malloy said.

“It would have done Berry some good.”

“No it wouldnt. Berry would have got what he got eventually anyway. Berry was slated for it from the day he was born in a shack down on the wrong side of the tracks in Wichita Kansas.”

“Fatso was born on the wrong side of the tracks, too.”

“Sure he was,” Malloy said. “And he might have been Berry, and Berry him, just as easy. You dont understand him. If you want to kill something, kill the things that made Fatso what he is. He doesnt do what he does because it is right or wrong. He doesnt think about right or wrong. He just does what is there to be done.”

“So do I. I’ve always done what is there to be done. But I’ve never done anything like Fatso’s done.”

“Yes, but you have a strong sense of right and wrong. Thats why you got in the Stockade in the first place, same as me. But if you asked Fatso if he thought what he did was right, he would probably look surprised as hell. Then, if you gave him time to think, he would say yes it was right; but he would be saying it simply because he had always been taught that he ought to do what is right. Therefore, in his mind, everything he does must be right. Because he did it. And because he knows he had been taught it is wrong to do what is wrong.”

“You’re only talking now,” Prew said. “You’re not saying anything. Fatso’s wrong. Too wrong. And there will be plenty of guys go through this Stockade after you and me are out.”

“Did you know Fatso was a Life Scout once?”

“I dont give a damn if he was President.”

“If it would do any good to kill him, I’d say go ahead, kill him. But all that will happen will be they will get somebody else just like him to take his place. Why dont you kill Major Thompson?”

“They’d just get somebody like him to take his place, too.”

“Of course,” Malloy said. “But he gave Fatso the orders.”

“I don’t know,” Prew said. “I’ve never felt about him like I’ve felt about Fatso. Major Thompson’s an officer; you expect that from officers; they’re on the other side of the fence. But Fatso, Fatso’s an enlisted man. And that makes him a traitor against his own kind.”

“I can see what you mean,” Malloy said. “And you’re right. But you are wrong to kill him—just simply because it wont do any good.”

“I got to do what I got to do,” Prew said impassibly.

“Yes,” Malloy said. “So have we all. So has Fatso.”

“Then thats whats the matter,” Prew said, falling back on the old phrase of finality.

“You love the Army, dont you?” Malloy said.

“I dont know,” Prew said. “Yes. Yes, I do. I’m a thirty-year-man. I’ve always been one. Ever since I first signed up.”

“Well, Fatso is as much a part of the Army you love as your 1st/Sgt, Warden, that you’re always talking about. One as much as the other. Without the Fatsos you couldnt