"Sure. It will help—"
He cleared his throat again and inquired in an enticing tone: "You actually don't mean to use the pistol?"
"I'm not a crack-shot," Skag said queerly.
"You might pass it to me. I'm supposed to be—"
"It is bad light."
"And then again, you might not," Cadman laughed softly. "I've got you, son—"
"I will do as you say," Skag said steadily.
Cadman hiccoughed. "The eye moved," he explained. "There—it did it again. I got a feeling as if an elevator dropped a flight. What were you saying?"
"That I am here to take orders."
"I'm taking orders to-night, son. I wouldn't risk your good opinion by shooting your guest—"