The Invisible Man
"Sorry," said Adye a little hoarsely, and moistened his lips with his tongue. The Voice was on his left front, he thought. Suppose he were to take his luck with a shot?
"What are you going for?" said the Voice, and there was a quick movement of the two, and a flash of sunlight from the open lip of Adye's pocket.
Adye desisted and thought. "Where I go," he said slowly, "is my own business." The words were still on his lips, when an arm came round his neck, his back felt a knee, and he was sprawling backward. He drew clumsily and fired absurdly, and in another moment he was struck in the mouth and the revolver wrested from his grip. He made a vain clutch at a slippery limb, tried to struggle up and fell back. "Damn!" said Adye. The Voice laughed. "I 'd kill you now if it was n't the waste of a bullet," it said. He saw the revolver in mid-air, six feet off, covering him.
"Well?" said Adye, sitting up.
"Get up," said the Voice.
Adye stood up.
"Attention," said the Voice, and then fiercely,
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