"Here," he said, "this is the way I do: You be a crook; and suppose you got a dagger, and I--" "I don't want any dagger," Sam protested, advancing.

"I want that revolaver.

It's my father's revolaver, ain't it ?" "Well, WAIT a minute, can't you?
I got a right to show you the way I DO, first, haven't I ?" Penrod began an improvisation on the spot.

"Say I'm comin' along after dark like this--look, Sam! And say you try to make a jump at me--" "I won't!" Sam declined this role impatiently.

"I guess it ain't YOUR father's revolaver, is it ?" "Well, it may be your father's but it ain't yours," Penrod argued, becoming logical.