‘Like hell it does,’ said Frank.
‘Say-Frank, it ain’t a felony to croak a burglar with a gun even if he’s only breakin’ into somebody else’s house.’
‘Like hell it ain’t,’ said Frank.
‘Say-Frank, my mother goes huntin’, too—she can shoot rabbits and ducks on the wing and once she got a deer with that big old .44 o’ my Uncle Walt’s.’
‘Like hell she did,’ said Frank.
‘Say-Frank—listen, will you gimme your gun for my bicycle, both my catcher’s gloves and four dollars when I get paid?’
‘Like hell I will,’ said Frank.
‘Say-Frank—listen, will you gimme it for my bicycle, my two catcher’s gloves, four dollars when I get paid and my shepherd pup?’
‘Like hell I will,’ said Frank.
‘Say-Frank—listen,—and my artificial snake?’