"Thirty-eight calibre?" he said coolly. "There's nothing little about your way of doing things, is there? And you meant to drill a hole through me, I'm bound!"
Terry's face gleamed white in the pale light; and he knew from the look in her eyes as they seemed fairly to clash with his, that it was the white of sheer rage.
"I'd just as lief blow your head off as shoot a rattlesnake," she announced crisply.
"I believe you," he grunted. "Just the same, if you'd only——"
"Oh, shut up!" she cried, shaking his hand free from hers on the wheel and driving on recklessly.
"I would like to mention," came an uncertain voice from a very pale Japanese, "that I must walk on my feet. I am most regretful——"
"Oh, shut up!" cried Terry. "Shut up!"
And for the rest of the ride both Iki and Steve Packard were silent.