He had something in his right hand, too, that I didn't like the look of, so I gripped my chunk of brick mighty hard.

This time he didn't wait so long, but crept forward like a stage murderer, peeping this way and that, but making for the car.

Once he looked straight at where I was crouching, and I was scared stiff, because a brick ain't any fair match for one of them new-fangled pistols at six yards or so; but I guess he was a bit nervy himself, and he didn't make out anything unusual in my direction.

Then he dodged right round the car to the back, and returned on the side nearest to me.

I suppose he reckoned all was safe by that time, so he took hold of the crank and began to start the engine.