You're letting up a holler that you were robbed, so come and get it.

The faster you come the better it'll suit us.

Scorpion stock will close at a dollar and a half or better to-morrow night." "Bluff!" somebody growled.
Stoner finished his signature with a nourish, blotted it, then he hesitated.

He flung down his pen and turned defiantly upon his partner, crying: "This ain't fair to these men, Mac.

They're customers of ours and we owe 'em the chance to make a killing.