He gurgled, mouthingly, as his swollen eyes chanced to light on Gavin Brice. who was just following Milo from the launch to the float.  And his discolored and unshaven jaw went slack.

“Oh, Brice,” said Standish carelessly.  “This is my foreman here, Perry Roke.  As a rule he looks like other people, except that he’s bigger, just now his cravings for falling off corrugated roofs have done things to his face.  Shake hands with him.  If you like the job I’m going to offer you he and you will be side-partners over here.”

Gavin faced his recent adversary, grinning pleasantly up at the battered and scowling face, and noting that the knife sheath at Roke’s hip was still empty.

“Hello!” he said civilly, offering his hand.

Roke gulped again, went purple, and, with sudden furious vehemence, grabbed at the proffered hand, enfolding it in his own monstrous grip in an industrious attempt to smash its every bone.

But reading the intent with perfect ease.  Brice shifted his own hand ever so little and with nimbly practised fingers eluded the crushing clasp, at the same time slipping his thumb over the heel of Roke’s clutching right hand and letting his three middle fingers meet at the exact center of that hand’s back.  Then, tightening his hold, he gave an almost imperceptible twist.  It was one of the first and the simplest of the tricks his jiu-jutsu instructor had taught him.  And, as ever with an opponent not prepared for it, the grip served.

To the heedlessly watching Standish he seemed merely to be accepting the invitation to shake hands with Roke.  But the next instant, under the apparently harmless contact, Roke’s big body veered sharply to one side. from the hips upward, and a bellow of raging pain broke from his puffed lips.

“Oh, I beg your pardon!” cried Brice in quick contrition:  “You must have hurt your hand when you fell off that roof.  I’m sorry if I made it worse.”

Nursing his wrenched wrist.  Roke glowered hideously at the smiling Gavin.  Brice could feel no compunction for his own behavior.  For he remembered the hurled knife and the brutal kicking of the dog.  Yet he repented him of the hand-twisting trick.  For if he and Roke were expected to work together as Milo had said, he had certainly made a most unfortunate beginning to their acquaintanceship, and just now he had added new and painful aggravation to his earlier offense.

Milo was surveying the sufferer with no great pity, as Roke bent over his hurt wrist.

“Too bad!” commented Standish.  “I suppose that will put a crimp in your violin-playing for a while.”

Turning to Gavin who looked in new surprise at the giant on hearing of this unexpected accomplishment.  Milo explained: