He trembled with excitement when Pelle explained his plan. "Great God in heaven, if only we could get at him!" he whispered hoarsely, clenching his skinny fists which Death had already marked with its dusky shadows. "I would willingly give my miserable life to see the scoundrel ruined! Look at that!"

Or else it was the stamp of a particular name on his mind, which impressed Skepsey, as he bored down the street and across the bridge, to fancy in recollection, that Mr. Shaplow, when reiterating the wish for self and friend to witness a display of his cunning with the fists, had spoken the name of Jarniman. An unusual name yet more than one Jarniman might well exist.

And both of them were exceedingly powerful and extremely delighted at each other's strength. And desirous of vanquishing each other, each stood eager to take advantage of his adversary's lapse. And both were greatly delighted and both looked like infuriate elephants of prodigious size. And various were the modes of attack and defence that they exhibited with their clenched fists.

One day, however, after a quarrel with her elder daughter, she exclaimed: "Things can't go on much longer like this! It is that vile man who is setting you against me. Take care that you don't try me too far, or I'll go and denounce him to the police. I will, as true as I stand here!" "You'll denounce him!" echoed La Normande, trembling violently, and clenching her fists. "You'd better not!

Peterson, and don't forget it. And which one of these are they going to like best, do you suppose the brave leader who scorns to ask his men to go where he wouldn't go himself, who isn't ashamed to do honest work with honest hands, whose fists are good enough to defend him against his enemies; or the man who is afraid to go out among the men without a revolver in his hip pocket?

The last resources of the poor tailor would be, to start up, and make a dash at the rogues, with clenched fists; but upon getting as far as the mainmast, the mate would accost him from over the rope that divided them, and beg leave to communicate the fact, that he could come no further.

Virginia longed for wavy brown hair and white hands, and especially for a graceful, easy manner. Her hair was short and black, and her complexion like a gypsy's. She had hard, brown little fists, sharp gray eyes that seemed to see everything at once, and a tongue that was always getting her into trouble.

Bart's fists unclenched and he stared down at Raynor Three, shaking his head in bewilderment and pain. "I knew he was dead! I knew it all along! I was trying not to believe it, but I knew!" "I liked your father. I admired him. He took a long chance, and it killed him.

Now U Saw raised his arm and stepped forward. His evil grin shone out once more. He was enjoying himself to the full. Jack braced his back against the post and clenched his fists as tightly as the ropes around his wrists would allow, and set his teeth to endure without flinching. His eyes were staring straight before him, into the blackness of the ruined doorway.

That's why I'm sorry. But somehow I wouldn't have had you act different even though there's danger. I'm glad it was you, and not me, though. You could hammer him with your two big fists. I couldn't. I should have shot him dead." Bill stared incredulously at the other's boyish face. His brother's tone had carried such cold conviction. "Charlie," he cried, "you get me beat every time.