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He added, "A cow can beat a man wrestling." When Alfred was handcuffed they turned him loose. On hearing this he saw the trap he had fallen into; saw and trembled. He asked himself what on earth he should do; and presently the saying came back to him, "And this is the highest stroke of art, to turn evil into good."
You cannot possibly get your son away without his assistance, for he is handcuffed to the bed, and Knapp, in so serious a matter as this, would not, I am sure, lend himself to an escape.
Gordon had just time to straighten up before the doorway was filled with two knife-men and a heavier one behind them. His hands dropped to the handcuffed man on the floor, and he caught him up with a jerk, slapping his body back against the counter. He took a step forward, jerking his hands up and putting his Earth-adapted shoulders behind it.
And then we got to Woodcotes, and I had to speak, for though 'twas three in the morning or a bit later, young Squire, knowing about the thing, hadn't gone to bed. He commanded 'em to bring me afore him, and I came in, handcuffed, to his libery, and there he sat with a good fire and a book. And a very beautiful satin smoking-jacket he wore, and the room smelled of rich cigars.
"You've Burkhardt handcuffed; it might be well to gag him, too, for fear the crowd might make trouble if he yelled for help," Weir replied. "Yes, we'll do that, though I think we can rush him into the jail before anyone knows what's happening." On the outskirts of town therefore the cars stopped.
He never could forget the time he and Gavegan, he handcuffed, had been locked in a sound-proof cell, and Gavegan had given him the third degree in this case a length of heavy rubber hose, applied with a powerful arm upon head and shoulders in an effort to make him squeal upon his confederates. And that third degree was merely a sample of the material of which Gavegan was made.
Luck looked the man over as he sat handcuffed beside the table and read in his face both terror and a sly, dogged cunning. Once before the fellow had been put through the third degree. Something of the sort he fearfully expected now. Villainy is usually not consistent. This hulking bully should have been a hardy ruffian. Instead, he shrank like a schoolgirl from the thought of physical pain.
They handcuffed him and dragged him away through the ranks of the soldiers, which opened for him to pass. The mob, including those who had been flung down, bruised and drenched, and who had painfully got to their feet again, had backed beyond the reach of the water, and for a while held that ground, until above its hoarse, defiant curses was heard, from behind, the throbbing of drums. "Cossacks!
To report him to his parents was just like shooting cannon balls into a stack of feathers. His mother, tall, cadaverous, and of complaining voice and manner, only declared: "He's too much for me. I tell Arlo that Junior ought to be locked up, or handcuffed, or something. And that's all the good it does." To complain to Mr. Weeks of his namesake was quite as unsatisfactory. "What?
It was a good record it spoke well Only this handful had refused. Refused absolutely, flagrantly defiant. Just this little group, out of all the thousands. So they were being sent off somewhere, handcuffed, to make roads. Prisoners for three years to make roads, useless roads that led nowhere. Good roads, excellent, for traffic that never was.
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