Speed. It's up to you to make
him beat that cook."
"S-s-suppose he gets sick or sprains his ankle?" Glass undertook
to move his body from in front of the weapon, but it followed him
as if magnetized.
"There ain't a-goin' to be no accidents or excuses. It's pay or
play, money at the tape. You're his trainer, and it's your fault
if he ain't fit when he toes the mark. Understand?"
Willie lowered the muzzle of his weapon, and fired between the
legs of Glass, who leaped into the air with all the grace of a
gazelle. It was due to no conscious action on his part that the
trainer leaped; his muscles were stimulated spasmodically, and
propelled him from the floor. At the same time his will was so
utterly paralyzed that he had no control over his movements; he
did not even hear the yell that burst from his throat as his
lungs contracted; he merely knew that he was in the supremest
peril, and that flight was futile. Therefore he undertook to
steady himself. Every tissue of his body seemed to creep and
crawl. The flesh inside his legs was quivering, the close-cropped
hair of his thick neck rose and prickled, and his capacious
abdomen throbbed and pulsated like a huge bowl of jelly.
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