Explore "The Turn of the Tide" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Gilmour faced round with a bitter snarl on his lips. His right hand dropped almost mechanically to his side, but a threatening gesture from Lock caused him to refrain. His big combative jaw was thrust out, his eyes burned with a fierce hate, but he was powerless for the moment, and he knew it. With his hands held high above his head he poured out a stream of invective that seemed to hiss like water on fire. To Ellis and Rust looking on it was as if some wild animal were wriggling and writhing in a trap.
"Very fine," Lock said almost genially. "Quite a remarkable effort, but if you don't mind, I should like to see you bring that boat a little closer in. No, you can't get away as you came, because by this time the river patrol is close behind. Yes, that's better. Step up, Mr. Gilmour."