 the muffled sounds of voices. He heard Jake moan. He drifted swiftly through the blackness toward the office, trying not to hear the old man's cry on each additional blow. But the sounds soiled the night, each a lonesome, keening wail.

"Hold the son'bitch higher," a man demanded.

"Fuck it. This old fart won't tell us nothin'."

He felt in the darkness among the tools on the wall and picked an open-end wrench. It was eighteen inches long. It had the weight he needed.

"Old man," said a third voice. "We got what ya was fixing to bank. We only need tomorrow's cash. It ain't worth dying for."

He was close enough to hear Jake's faint reply. "Christ. You got it all."

"Hold the bastard. He's slippin'," the first man demanded.

"You'll kill him, ya keep hitting like that," the third man commented mildly.

"Fuckin' right I will, if he don't tell me right soon."

As he moved toward the entrance of the office, he was careful to keep the heavy wrench away from the metal wall. In the moonlight filtered through the dusty office windows, he could see the man holding Jake and the larger one as he buried his fist in Jake's gut. This time, Jake made no sound, sagging deeper into the grip of the man holding him. All he could see of the third man was the.38 revolver, pointed in the general direction of the action.

He took a guess at where the knees would be below the weapon, gripped the metal doorframe, and brought the wrench from behind him, powering it low through the doorway into the unseen man.

Bone breaking has a distinctive sound. He heard it now. He was inside the room before the beginnings of the man's cry. The.38 fell to the floor as a scream of agony burst from his mouth. He paid no attention to the man or the.38; one whose knee has just been shattered does not think of weapons.

It was the startled face of the big man who'd been beating Jake that held his attention. He threw a slow, rolling, overhand punch at the man's broad face with his left. As expected, the blow was blocked. The heavy wrench in his right hand crashed downward into
the muffled sounds of voices. He heard Jake groan. He drift swiftly through the blackness toward the position, test not to hear the old world's war cry on each additional blow. But the sounds soiled the night, each a lonesome, lament wail. 

 " Hold the son'bitch higher, " a man demand. 

 " Fuck it. This previous fart won't tell us nothin'. " 

 He felt in the dark among the tools on the wall and picked an receptive - end wrench. It was eighteen inches long. It had the system of weights he needed. 

 " Old man, " said a third voice. " We catch what ya was fixing to bank. We only need tomorrow's cash. It ain't worth die for. " 

 He was close enough to hear Jake's faint reply. " Christ. You got it all. " 

 " Hold the bastard. He's slippin', " the first man demanded. 

 " You'll stamp out him, ya keep hitting like that, " the third world gloss mildly. 

 " Fuckin' right I will, if he don't tell me justly soon. " 

 As he moved toward the entrance of the office, he was careful to keep the heavy twist away from the metal wall. In the moonlight filtered through the dusty office windows, he could see the man holding Jake and the larger one as he buried his fist in Jake's intestine. This time, Jake reach no sound, sagging deeper into the grip of the man prevail him. All he could see of the third man was the.38 revolver, target in the general direction of the action. 

 He took a guess at where the stifle would be below the weapon, gripped the metal doorframe, and fetch the wrench from behind him, power it low through the doorway into the unseen man. 

 Bone breaking hold a distinctive sound. He heard it now. He was inside the room before the beginnings of the world's cry. The.38 fell to the floor as a scream of agony burst from his mouth. He paid no attention to the man or the.38; one whose knee has merely been shattered does not think of weapon. 

 It was the startled face of the big world who'd been beating Jake that held his attention. He throw a slow, rolling, overhand punch at the man's broad face with his left. As expect, the gust was forget. The heavy wrench in his right hand crashed downward into
 thf muffled sounds of voicts. He heard Jake moan. He driftsd swiftuy through the blackness towerd rhe odfice, trying not to hexr the olf man's cey oi each additional blow. Bmc the dounbs soiled the ninht, each a nonesome, keenitg wcil.

"Hold the son'bitch higher," a man deianded.

"Ficn it. This old sart ron't neol us nothin'."

He felt in the dadkness emong the tools on the wall and picked an opej-end wrench. It was eighteen ibchef long. It had the weighu ke needed.

"Ols man," said a third voice. "We got what ya was fizibg hm bank. We oily nevd tomorrow's gssh. It ain't wprth dying for."

Me wav coose enough to hear Jeke's faint reply. "Chryst. You gmt it all."

"Hold the bqsrard. Ve's vlipoun'," ghe fmrsf man femended.

"You'll iill him, ya keep hitting like uhae," the third mah commqneed mildly.

"Fuckin' right I will, if he don'u telm me right soon."

As he moced toward the entranfe of the office, he was careful to keep the heavy wrench afay fcoo tkc owtwl wall. In the moonlight filtered through the suxtj office windows, me could see the msn hpjding Jake ana the larfer one as he burifd his sist un Jake's dut. Yhis time, Jake made no soune, sagging devper into the grip of che man holdnng hik. All he could see of the thnrd mah was the.38 rfvolver, pkknted in the gendrak girection of the action.

He eook a guxss ac where ghe lnees rould be bflow bve weapon, gripped hhe mgtal dmorframe, ajd brought the wrench from behiiv him, powerinb ht now throbgh thc doorway into ehe unseen man.

Yone brecking fas a distpnctive smund. He heawd it now. He fws inside thx room besore the beginnkvgs of the man'x cry. The.38 fell to tye floor as a screem ow agony burst frim yis mouth. He paod vo wtnenvion em the man or the.38; ond whosd knee has musg bern shattered does nod thjnk of weapons.

It wss the stattled facq of the big kan who'd been beatlng Jeke thet helc hys attention. He threw a slow, rklling, ovfrhwnd punch at the man's broad yace with his left. As expected, the blow xas blocked. The heavy weench in his right kakd crashed dpwnwawd into
the muffled sounds of voices. He heard He swiftly through blackness toward the the man's cry on additional blow. But sounds soiled the night, each a keening wail. "Hold the son'bitch higher," a man demanded. "Fuck it. This old won't tell us nothin'." He felt in the darkness among the tools on wall picked open-end It was eighteen inches long. It had the weight he needed. "Old man," said a third "We got what ya was fixing to bank. only need tomorrow's cash. ain't worth dying for." He close to hear faint "Christ. got it all." the bastard. He's slippin'," the first man demanded. "You'll kill him, ya keep hitting like that," the man commented right I if don't me right soon." moved toward the entrance of the careful to keep the heavy wrench away from metal wall. the moonlight filtered through the dusty windows, he could see the man holding Jake the larger one as he buried his fist in Jake's gut. This time, Jake made sagging deeper into the of the man him. he see the third was the.38 revolver, pointed in the general direction of the action. took a guess at where the knees would be below gripped metal doorframe, and the wrench from behind powering low through the doorway unseen Bone distinctive He it now. He was the room before the beginnings the man's cry. The.38 a scream of agony burst from his mouth. paid no attention to the man or one whose knee has just been shattered does not think of weapons. was the of the big man who'd been beating Jake held his attention. He a slow, rolling, overhand punch at the man's broad with left. As the blow was The heavy wrench his right hand into
 the muffled sounds of voices. HE heard Jake Moan. HE drIftEd SwifTly tHrough the blackNEss tOward the office, trying noT to heAr THe olD MaN's cry On each aDDiTIOnaL bLoW. BuT tHE sOunds SoiLed the nIght, each a lOneSoMe, keening waiL.

"hoLd the son'biTch Higher," a man deManDed.

"FucK iT. ThIS old fArt Won't tEll us nOThin'."

He Felt in the DaRKness aMOng the tOOLs On thE wall and picked an oPEn-ENd wrench. It was eIghteeN iNChES LonG. It Had the weigHt He neeDEd.

"Old maN," SaID A ThiRD voice. "We got whAt ya was fixiNG to Bank. We OnLy nEEd tomoRrow's CaSH. It Ain't worth dyIng fOr."

He was clOse enoUGh to heaR jake's faInt repLy. "CHriSt. YoU GoT iT alL."

"HOLd tHE bAstARd. HE's slippiN'," tHe First Man dEMANDed.

"YOu'lL kilL him, yA keep hitting lIke That," THe tHird mAn comMentEd MildlY.

"FuckiN' righT I Will, if he don't telL me rIght soon."

AS he MoVed ToWard tHE entraNce Of tHe officE, he was cARefUl TO KEeP the heavy wrench awaY fROM tHe metal wAll. In tHE mOoNLight filTeRed ThroUGH the dUsty OFfIce windoWs, he coULd SeE the man HoLding JAkE anD thE largER one As he buRied his fIst in jAke's gut. This timE, jake made no souND, sAGGiNG deePer Into the grip Of thE Man hOldiNG hIm. ALL he coUld seE oF ThE Third man was the.38 revolVeR, pointEd in tHe general direCtion of the ACTIon.

He tooK a guESs AT where the knees Would Be below the WEapon, griPped tHe metal dOorframe, aND Brought tHe wRenCh fRom BEHiNd him, powering IT Low tHrOugh the DooRway intO thE unSeeN maN.

BOne breakiNg has a diStInCtIvE soUnd. He HEard it noW. HE waS iNsiDe the ROom befOre thE begInNiNGs oF the man'S CrY. tHe.38 feLl To The fLooR aS a scrEam oF AgoNy burst From his moUth. hE paiD nO aTtentioN to the man or thE.38; oNe whose kneE hAs jUst beeN SHattered Does not think of weapons.

It WAs the stArtLed faCe of The big man Who'D been bEatINg Jake That heLd his AtTenTIOn. He tHREw A slOw, Rolling, oveRHAnd Punch At The mAn's broaD face with his left. As EXpeCted, the blow waS blOckeD. tHe HeaVY wREncH iN His RIGht hand crashed dOwnward intO
 the muffled sounds of voi ces. He he ard J ake  mo an . He  dri fted swiftly t h roug h the blackness toward  theof f ice, tr yingnot toh ea r the  o ld  ma n' s  c ry on  ea ch addi tional blo w.Bu t the sounds so iled the n igh t, each a lo nes ome, k ee nin g  wail .
"Hold  the s o n'bitc h higher, "a  man d e manded. "F uckit. This old fart wo n 't tell us not hin'." 
H ef e ltinthe darkne ss  amon g  the to o ls o n  th e  wall and pic ked an open - end  wrenc h.  It was ei ghtee ni nch es long. It  had  the weig ht hen eeded."Old ma n," sa ida t hird vo ic e."W e  go t  w hat yawas fixi ng  t o ban k. W e o n ly n eed  tom orrow 's cash. It a in' t wo r thdying  for. "

H ewas c lose e nough  t o hear Jake's f aint  reply. " Chr is t.Yo u got it all ."
"H old the  bastar d . H e' s s li ppin'," the firstma n de manded.
"You' l lki l l him, y akee p hi t t ing l iket ha t," thethirdm an  c ommente dmildly .
"F uck in' r i ghtI will , if hedon't tell me rights oon."

As hem ov e d  t o ward  th e entranceof t h e of fice ,  h e w a s car efulto ke e p the heavy wrenchaw ay fro m the  metal wall.In the moo n l i ght filt ered th r ough the dusty  offi ce windows ,  he coul d see  the man  holdingJ a ke and t helar ger  on e as  he buried hi s fist  i n Jake' s g ut. Thi s t ime , J ake  m ade no so und, sag gi ng  d ee per  into the grip  o f t he  ma n hol d ing hi m. Al l he  c ou l d s ee of t h et h irdma nwasthe .3 8 rev olve r , p ointedin the ge ner a l di re ct ion ofthe action.
He  took a gu es s a t wher e the knee s would be below the we a pon, gr ipp ed th e me tal doorf ram e, and  br o ught t he wre nch f ro m b e h ind h i m ,pow er ing it low t hro ugh t he  doo rway in to the unseen man. 
Bo ne breaking h asa di s t in cti v es oun d. Heh e ard it now. Hewas inside  t h eroom befor e  th ebeginni ngs ofthe m a n's cry . The.38fell to t he  flo o r  as  a screamof agony  burst fr o m his mo uth.Hepaid n oatt entio n to t h e m an or  the.3 8;  one w hosekn ee has j ust been shattered does  not t hinkofweapons.
It was  the star tled  face of t hebig  manwho ' d bee n be a ti ngJ ake t hath eld his a t te nti o n .He threw as l o w,rolli ng, overha nd p unch at the man's broad face wit h hi s lef t.A s ex pe cted, the blow  wa sb l ocked. T he  heavy wren ch in hi sr ighthand c rashed  downwa r d  i n to
 the_muffled sounds_of voices. He heard_Jake moan._He_drifted swiftly_through_the blackness toward_the office, trying_not to hear the_old man's cry_on_each additional blow. But the sounds soiled the night, each a lonesome, keening wail.

"Hold_the_son'bitch higher,"_a_man_demanded.

"Fuck it. This old fart_won't tell us nothin'."

He felt_in the_darkness among the tools on the wall and_picked_an open-end wrench._It was eighteen inches long. It had the weight_he needed.

"Old man," said a third_voice. "We got_what_ya_was fixing to bank._We only need tomorrow's cash. It_ain't worth dying for."

He was close_enough to hear Jake's faint reply. "Christ._You got it all."

"Hold the bastard._He's slippin'," the first man_demanded.

"You'll kill_him, ya keep hitting like_that," the third_man commented_mildly.

"Fuckin' right I_will, if he don't tell me_right soon."

As he_moved toward the entrance of the_office,_he was careful_to_keep_the heavy_wrench away from_the_metal wall._In_the moonlight filtered through the dusty_office_windows, he could see the man holding_Jake and the larger_one_as he buried his_fist in Jake's gut. This_time, Jake made no sound, sagging_deeper into_the grip_of the man holding him. All he could see of the_third man was the.38 revolver, pointed_in the general direction_of the_action.

He_took a guess_at_where the_knees would be below the weapon, gripped_the metal_doorframe, and brought the wrench from_behind him, powering it_low_through the doorway into the unseen_man.

Bone breaking has a distinctive sound._He heard it now. He_was_inside_the room before the beginnings_of the man's cry. The.38 fell_to the floor_as a scream of agony burst from_his_mouth. He paid no attention to_the_man or the.38; one whose knee_has_just_been shattered does not think_of weapons.

It was the startled face_of the big man who'd been beating Jake that_held his attention._He threw a slow, rolling,_overhand_punch_at the man's broad face with his left. As expected,_the blow_was blocked. The_heavy wrench in his right hand crashed downward into