"This isn't a hold-up," he explained. "Put 'em down again, but watch yourself."
The sneer varied to a contemptuous smile.
"I guess you're tame, all right."
"Point that gun another way, will you, son?"
The boy started and flushed a little.
"Don't call me son."
"Is this a lockup—a jail?"
"This?"
"What is it, then? The last I remember I was lying in the snow with—"
"I wish to God you'd been let there," said the boy bitterly.