Inefficient?
You couldn't kill a cornered rat with a stick of dynamite--_real_ dynamite, and not the sort you are deluded into believing I have hidden away." "Anything more ?" he demanded, when I had ceased from my diatribe.
And into my mind flashed what I had told Fortini when he pressed his insolence on me.
"Begone, you prison cur," I said.

"Take your yapping from my door." It must have been a terrible thing for a man of Warden Atherton's stripe to be thus bearded by a helpless prisoner.

His face whitened with rage and his voice shook as he threatened: "By God, Standing, I'll do for you yet." "There is only one thing you can do," I said.

"You can tighten this distressingly loose jacket.

If you won't, then get out.