Merritt come in as one on an unhappy errand. Charlie, the clerk, stood with towel in his hands forgetful of the glasses he had started to dry. Perry took a step forward.
"What are you going to do?" Big Jim demanded.
"I'm going to take away your arm band."
"You try it and I'll squash your nose so that it will touch your ears."
Plainly Big Jim expected that threat to settle the matter. As he stood there, his shoulders hunched, his head thrust forward on its thick neck, he looked to be twice the size of the pale, thin boy who confronted him.
Perry came forward another step. Big Jim drew back his arm. "I'll flatten you," he warned.
"Keep your arm that way," said Perry. "It will be easier for me to take out the pins."
Big Jim wanted to drive out with his fist—and couldn't. Some power outside himself, some power he could not explain, some power greater than all his bulge of muscle, would not let him strike. Surprise, amazement, consternation, uneasiness, passed through the shadows of his eyes. He felt the touch of fingers, felt the pins come out, felt the band loosen, saw it pulled away—and stood with his arm drawn back and permitted it to be done.
