"Will you be a really big man now and--" "Gurney, you know a lot about bigness!" Sheridan began to walk to and fro again, and the doctor returned gloomily to his chair.

He had shot his bolt the moment he judged its chance to strike center was best, but the target seemed unaware of the marksman.
"I'm tryin' to make a big man out o' that poor truck yonder," Sheridan went on, "and you step in, beggin' me to let him be Lord knows what--I don't! I suppose you figure it out that now I got a SON-IN-LAW, I mightn't need a son! Yes, I got a son-in-law now--a spender!" "Oh, put your hand back!" said Gurney, wearily.
There was a bronze inkstand upon the table.

Sheridan put his right hand in the sling, but with his left he swept the inkstand from the table and half-way across the room--a comet with a destroying black tail.

Mrs.
Sheridan shrieked and sprang toward it.
"Let it lay!" he shouted, fiercely.

"Let it lay!" And, weeping, she obeyed.