More and more frequent came the scrape of a foot along the floor, or the brief cough of perturbation.

One or two very daring young men leaned over and made some remark in privacy, behind the back of the hand, this followed by a nudge and a knowing look, perhaps even by a snicker, the latter quickly suppressed.

Little by little these bursts of courage had their effect.

Whispers became spasmodic, indeed even frequent.
"Say, Curly," whispered Del Hickman hoarsely to his neighbour, "ef somethin' don't turn loose right soon I'm due to die right here.

I'm thirstier'n if this here floor was the Staked Plains." "Same here," said Curly in a muttered undertone.