The barrel of the gun looked like a cannon to me.
Gus said: “Watch him… he’s slippery.”
The fat guy shook his head. “He’ll be all right now, you see.”
I sat on the floor hoping that Mardi would start yelling out of the window. I didn’t hear a sound, and my heart sank.
“Come on, get up,” the fat guy said, digging the gun into me again.
I got to my feet.
“If you think you’re goin’ to start anything, I should forget it. This rod’s got a light trigger.”
I guess that guy would think nothing of touching his gun off, so I just stood.
Gus came round the back of me and jerked my arms behind me. For a moment I stiffened my muscles, but the gun kept digging into me. I thought maybe I’d be more useful to Mardi alive than dead, so I let him rope me.
I tried the dodge of expanding my arm muscles, so that I could have a little slack when the time came, but Gus knew all about roping, and when he put the pressure on I called him some fancy names.