He paused.

"Very likely these Martians will make pets of some of them; train
them to do tricks--who knows?--get sentimental over the pet boy who
grew up and had to be killed.  And some, maybe, they will train to
hunt us."

"No," I cried, "that's impossible!  No human being----"

"What's the good of going on with such lies?" said the
artilleryman.  "There's men who'd do it cheerful.  What nonsense to
pretend there isn't!"

And I succumbed to his conviction.

"If they come after me," he said; "Lord, if they come after me!"
and subsided into a grim meditation.