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Updated: June 3, 2025
"You do not mean," said the other, "that your recollection of such an offence has lived out so many years?" "No sir! no sir!" said Thorn, "it is not that. I despise it, as I do the offender. You have touched me more nearly." "Let me know in what," said Mr. Carleton turning his pistol's mouth down upon the table and leaning on it.
I don't think the pistol's safe; it goes off too easily. However, the most important thing is that nobody is hurt." "That's fortunate. I'll take the weapon from you," replied the officer dryly. When Colston had given it to him, as if glad to be rid of it, the officer noted the positions and attitudes of the others before he turned to Prescott. "Can you tell me anything?" he asked.
The pistol went off grazing the edge of Batoche's fox-skin cap, and the hunter's blade plunged deep into the patrolman's heart. The latter rolled into the snow without a groan, and Batoche fled with the sound of footsteps, attracted by the pistol's report, sounding in his ears.
Chatfield's like all scoundrels of his type a horrible coward if a pistol's held to his head. Now they've got him, they'll force him to disgorge. Hang this compulsory inactivity! my nerves are all a-tingle to get going at things!" "Let's occupy ourselves with the things our generous gaolers have been kind enough to send us, then," suggested Audrey. "We'd better carry them up to our shelter."
They captured him, and he confessed that he was one of Baywater's scouts, and that he had spent two days in the thicket searching for the box of jewels he had seen through the window of the villa. The young men secured their prisoner, whom one guarded at the pistol's point, while the other pushed on, buried the box in another place, and then they conveyed the ruffian to Columbus.
Under the pistol's concussions the mitred caps had burst and instantly all about the running soldiers grew a cloud of tiny, glistening white spores like a little cloud of puff-ball dust many times magnified. Through this cloud I glimpsed their faces, stricken with agony. Some turned to fly, but before they could take a second step stood rigid.
And all those soldiers believed in the efficacy of their commander's prayers. Jackson was also a stern disciplinarian. If men in any way sought to evade duty, provost-marshals were ordered to bring them into line, if necessary at the pistol's point.
Echo laid her hand on the knob to open the door, when she heard the click of the pistol's hammer as Bud raised it. With a prayer in her eyes, she looked at the young man. He was obdurate. Nothing could move him. Turning, she shrieked: "No, I did not call. Go! in God's name, go!" "Good-bye!" was Jack's farewell. The rapid beat of horse's hoofs told of his mounting and riding away. "Gone.
It probably had nothing to do with Thomas Gilbert's sudden death, could not offset in my mind the conviction of Thomas Gilbert's stiffened fingers about the pistol's butt. That I made a second thorough investigation of the study interior was not because I questioned the manner of the death.
She screamed in terror, fighting to break his hold, while the trap above them opened, and the head and shoulders of the Southerner appeared, his pistol held in his outstretched hand. "Drop it, you hound!" he ordered fiercely. "Drop it!" The Northerner released his captive, but stood unmoved as he looked into the pistol's muzzle and the blazing eyes of the cornered scout.
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