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Updated: June 6, 2025
That was a great fight, for Brian was little used to ax-play and had much ado to parry the keen thrusts of his own Spanish blade; the roof was too low to give room for a swing, and when the Dark Master had lunged him back to the door again, he knew that he had done ill. So with another bitter curse Brian flung the ax from his hand and ripped out the long, Irish dagger that hung at his girdle.
Ambrosch dropped the collar on the ground. “All right,” he said coolly, took up his oil-can, and began to climb the mill. Jake caught him by the belt of his trousers and yanked him back. Ambrosch’s feet had scarcely touched the ground when he lunged out with a vicious kick at Jake’s stomach. Fortunately Jake was in such a position that he could dodge it.
Farley, the flow of blood from his nose stanched, came back as full of steam as before. Dave's footwork was as nimble as ever. Speed and skill in dodging were features of Darrin's fighting style. Yet Farley caught him, with a blow on the chest that sent him to his knees. Like a flash, however, Darrin was upon his feet, and Farley lunged at him swiftly and heavily.
For five long weeks he tried each evening, the Rajput never doing anything but parry, changing his sabre often to the other hand and grinning at the schoolboy swordsmanship until one evening, at the end of a more than usually hard-fought bout, the youngster pricked him, lunged, and missed slitting his jugular by the merest fraction of an inch.
"I ought to lead the army. It is you who should follow me." At this bold reply Hako's anger burst from a spark into a flame. "Dare you answer me thus? Take that," and he lunged at him with his lance. But Eiko moved quickly aside, and at the same time, raising his sword, he wounded the head of the General's horse.
I am left as thou dost see: In honour's day most honoured wont to be, * And win the race from all my company Would Heaven before my death I might behold * My son in seat of empire sit for me And rush upon his foes, to take his wreak * With sway of sword and lance lunged gallantly: In this world and the next I am undone, * Except the Lord vouchsafe me clemency."
Jerking his body backward, he lunged downward into the sea, dragging his antagonist with him. As Gregory and Mascola fell to the water, Dickie Lang drew her automatic and covering the cockpit of the Fuor d'Italia with her flash-light, peered cautiously over the rail. Upon the floor of the launch sprawled the figure of a man. His face was turned away from her.
Ishie groaned, depressed the cutoff switch and turned to Mike. "You fixed it," he said. "If a simple question like that gets an answer like that, how long do you think it will take the captain to find out something's wrong with the Cow?" Mike lunged for the switch, but Ishie held him back. "Hold it, Boy. You've made enough electronic mistakes for one day. This takes some thinking over."
Cherry Malotte had closed her check-rack violently, at the same instant crying shrill and clear: "That bet is off! The cases are wrong!" Glenister half rose, overturning his chair; the Kid lunged forward across the table, and his wonderful hands, tense and talon-like, thrust themselves forward as though reaching for the riches she had snatched away.
Parks lunged forward, dodged a stick of cord-wood that drove straight at him like a battering-ram and, watching his chance, dragged a floating keg from the smother, rolled it clear of the surf, canted it on end, and took a similar card from its head. Then he shouted with all his might: "It's the Polly, men! It's the Polly the Polly Walters! O God, ain't that too bad!
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