Again and again the amused expression suffused the lawyer's face, and still, by an effort of will, it was smothered.

Jim was in torture.

The man seemed to be in possession of some great secret, and looked as if he only waited an opportunity beyond observation to burst into a laugh.
"What the devil ye thinkin' on ?" inquired Jim at last.
Yates looked him in the eyes, and replied coolly: "I was thinking how well Benedict is looking." Jim stopped rowing, holding his oars in the air.

He was dumb.

His face grew almost livid, and his hair seemed to rise and stand straight all over his head.