Then the younger stepped suddenly forth into the open, the two meeting face to face.

The startled foreman stared incredulous, bending forward as though a ghost confronted him, his teeth showing between parted lips.
"Drop that club!" commanded Winston coldly, the gleam of an uplifted steel barrel in the other's eyes.

"Lively, my man; this is a hair-trigger." "What the hell--" "Drop that club! We 'll discuss this case later.

There--no, up with your hands; both of them.

Turn around slowly; ah, I see you don 't tote a gun down here.