"I belave ye.

But why are ye lingerin'?
Lift the hammer, will ye ?" The correspondent's trigger-finger moved and there was a warning click.
"Now pull it.

Pull it, I say.

As though ye cud, with that flutter to yer eye." St.Vincent attempted to turn his head aside.
"Look at me, man!" McCarthy commanded.

"Kape yer eyes on me when ye do it." Unwillingly the sideward movement was arrested, and his eyes returned and met the Irishman's.
"Now!" St.Vincent ground his teeth and pulled the trigger--at least he thought he did, as men think they do things in dreams.