There was one long minute of sickening suspense.

The men straightened for breath.

Work was difficult with a handsaw in the heat of the swamp.

As they rested, the big dark fellow took a bottle from his pocket and began oiling the saw.
"We got to keep mighty quiet," he said, "and wait to fell it until that damned guard has gone to his dinner." Again they bent to their work.

Freckles' revolver spat fire.