I don't want to use any force on him yet.

Wait until we know we can get something worth while by doing it." "All right," he nodded, grimly.

"But when the time comes I'm telling you straight, Doc, I'm going the limit.

There's something about that human spider that makes me itch to squash him--slowly." "I'll have no compunction--when it's worth while," I answered as grimly.
We sank down again against the saddlebags; Drake brought out a black pipe, looked at it sorrowfully; at me appealingly.
"All mine was on that pony that bolted," I answered his wistfulness.
"All mine was on my beast, too," he sighed.

"And I lost my pouch in that spurt from the ruins." He sighed again, clamped white teeth down upon the stem.
"Of course," he said at last, "if Ventnor was right in that--that disembodied analysis of his, it's rather--well, terrifying, isn't it ?" "It's all of that," I replied, "and considerably more." "Metal, he said," Drake mused.