Wouldn't I give it to you otherwise--wouldn't I?"
"Swig, Teenie! Honest to God, just a swig!"
"No, no, Jas! No, no, no!"
Suddenly Jastrow the Granite Jaw drew down his lips to a snarl, his
hands clutching into the coverlet and drawing it up off his feet.
"Gimme!" he said. "I've done it before and I'll do it now--smash up the
place! Gimme! You're getting me crazy! This time you got me crazy.
Gimme--you hear--gimme!"
"Jas--for God's sakes--no--no!"
"Gimme! By God! you hear--gimme!" There was a wrenching movement of his
body, a fumbling beneath the pillow, and Mr. Jastrow suddenly held
forth, in crouched attitude of cunning, something cold, something
glittering, something steel.
"Now," he said, head jutting forward, and through shut teeth--"now
gimme, or by God--"
"Jas--Jas--for God's sake have you gone crazy? Where'd you get that gun?
Is that where I heard you sneaking this morning--over to my trunk for my
watch-dog? Gimme that gun--Jas! You--you're crazy--Jas!"
"You gimme, was what I said, and gimme quick! You see this thing
pointing? Well, gimme quick."
"Jas--"
"Don't 'Jas' me. I'm ugly this time, and when I'm ugly _I'm ugly!_"
"All right! All right! Only, for God's sakes, Jas, don't get out of bed,
don't get crazy enough to shoot that thing.
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