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The doctor sniffed scornfully, "Devilish lot Larrimer knows about ethnology." He then became lucid. "Larrimer's head at the Drevel Hospital, y' know; deuced clever at the operating-table, but set in his ideas. Lord, dynamite would n't move him; stubborn's no name for it.
There was a clangor of metal at the farthest end of the room. Larrimer's gun had rattled on the boards, unfired. He tossed up his great gaunt arms as though he were appealing for help, leaped into the air, and fell heavily, with a force that vibrated the floor where Terry stood. There was one heartbeat of silence.
"Better than a circus," declared Baldwin. "Wouldn't miss it. Since old man Harkness died, I ain't heard cussing to match up with Larrimer's. Didn't know that he had that much brains." It seemed that the fates were surely against Terry this day. Yet still he determined to dodge the issue.
Ordinarily Larrimer's gun would have been out long before, but the change from this man's humility of the moment before, his almost cringing meekness, to his present defiance was so startling that Larrimer was momentarily at sea. "Damn my eyes," he remarked furiously, "this is funny, this is. Are you preaching at me, kid? What d'you mean by that? Eh?" "I'll tell you why.
"And you see," said Waters, "where I come in is that I have a plan for getting this Hollis you desire so much." "You do?" He rose and grasped the arm of Waters. "You do?" Waters nodded. "It's this way. I understand that he killed Larrimer, and Larrimer's older brother is the one who is rousing public opinion against you. Am I right?" "The dog! Yes, you're right."
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