Tone and mien alike were threatening. Red Hoss realized there was no time for extended preliminary remarks. From him the truth came trippingly on the tongue.
"Boss, man, I ain't aimin' to tell you no lies dis time. I comes clean."
"Come clean and come fast."
"A elephint set down on it."
"What!"
"I sez, suh, a elephint set down on it."
In moments of stress, when tempted beyond his powers of self-control, Mr. Farrell was accustomed to punctuate physically, as it were, the spoken word. What he said—all he said—before emotion choked him was: "Why—you—you—" What he did was this: His right arm crooked upward like a question mark; it straightened downward like an exclamation point; his fist made a period, or, as the term goes, a full stop on the point of Red Hoss Shackleford's jaw. What Red Hoss saw resembled this:
* * * * * * *
Only they were all printed flashingly in bright primary colors, reds and greens predominating.