"Whose orders put you here ?" He choked, shrinking back helpless in the chair.
"By God! you won't always have the drop on me--" "Well, I have now.

Speak up; who is the man ?" His eyes ranged along the wall, an expression in them like that of a whipped cur.
"Philip Henley," he whispered, so low I scarcely caught the name.
"What!" "Wal, I told yer," he growled resentfully.

"Yer kin believe er not just as you please, but, so help me, that's the truth.

I reckon I know." As I stared at him, half believing, half incredulous, I became conscious that she stood in the hall doorway.

Coombs lifted his head, glad of any respite, and I glanced aside also, dropping the revolver back into my coat pocket.
"You--you were quarreling ?" she asked, coming into the room, "you were so long I became anxious, and came down." "Nothing serious," I assured her, smilingly.