At last she sat down and tried to think what she could do.

She thought of the very thing, and ran for the carving-knife, which she handed to Dave with shut eyes.

He motioned her with a disdainful movement of the elbow to take it away.
Would Maloney never come! He was coming, hat in hand, and running for dear life across the potato-paddock.

Behind him was his man.

Behind his man--Sal, out of breath.