But there was the arrow. He took it from her heart and faced
his band.

"Whose arrow?" he demanded sternly.

"Mine, Peter," said Tootles on his knees.

"Oh, dastard hand," Peter said, and he raised the arrow to use
it as a dagger.

Tootles did not flinch. He bared his breast. "Strike, Peter,"
he said firmly, "strike true."