"I only wish we had a couple of chairs, down here.

Oversight on our part that we didn't have some steel ones put in, and a line of canned goods and a few quarts of Scotch.

The floor's a bit damp and cold to sit on, and I want a drink damn bad!" Flint swung about and faced him, pale and shaking, tortured with fear and with longing for his dope.
"You--you don't think it _will_ be long, eh, do you ?" he demanded.

"Not long before we're taken out ?" Waldron shrugged his shoulders and blew a long, thin arrow of smoke athwart the brightly-lighted air.
"Search me!" he exclaimed.

"To judge by what was happening when we made our exit, the Plant must be a mess, by this time.