Steele's nerve, his spirit, his meaning was there, like lightning about to strike.

Blome maintained a ghastly, stricken silence.
"Then the instant was plain when he realized this was no ghost of Steele, but the Ranger in the flesh.

Blome's whole frame rippled as thought jerked him out of his trance.

His comrades sat stone-still.

Then Hilliard and Pickens dived without rising from the table.