Bland stepped aside hastily.
"I can't see well enough to be sure of missing you next time," Mary V assured him.

"Generally I can shoot awfully close and miss, but--I'd _like_ to shoot you, really.

You'd better crank the motor." Bland saw the hammer lift again, ominously deliberate.

He sidled hurriedly down to the propeller.

His pale stare never left the gun, which kept him inexorably before its muzzle.
Johnny's eyes looked as big as his goggles, but he did not say a word.
And presently, after three rather hysterical attempts, Bland set the propeller whirring, and ran out to one side, his hands up as though he feared for his life if he lowered them.