Owen looked at them with great glee before he acted.

Then he brought the stock of the rifle down on one of the hands with the precision of a cold deliberation that had taken possession of him.
Dale screamed with the pain of the hurt, then cursed.

But he still gripped the top of the partition with the other hand.
Owen grinned, and with the deliberation that had marked the previous blow he again brought the rifle stock down, smashing the remaining hand.

That, too, disappeared, and Dale's screaming curses filled the cabin.
Owen waited.

Twice more the hands came up, and twice more Owen crushed them with the rifle butt.