For that purpose he half carried, half dragged his victim through the doorway and into the adjoining room.

There he deposited him on the floor, as near death as life.

Relaxing his hold on the man's throat, he whipped out his Colt and tucked the cold muzzle under the chin of the other.
"Now don't stir," he said; "don't whisper, don't move a muscle.

Partner, I'm Ronicky Doone.

Now talk quick.