burp gun

“You can imagine the sound of that gun on a Bronx street,” Chief of Detectives Robert Boyce says.

That act forever sealed his feeling for the Chief, bound it up with the war, with violence, with the gun.

I mean, the reality of it was, I had to go out and get on a horse, and ride in, shoot the gun — how hard was that, right?

They were the machine gun bullets coming from the ambush when my company got hit.

Frias—who was arrested in 2013 for interfering with public duties and public intoxication—was not carrying a gun at the time.

This was no strange sight to the boy by that time, but it was awkward in the circumstances, for he had neither gun nor spear.

He turned at the sound of my voice with vastly more concern than he'd betrayed under the muzzle of Piegan's gun.

He was a good judge of men, that eagle-faced major; he knew that the slightest move with hostile intent would mean a smoking gun.

Here Robinson suddenly turned pale, and, hastily reaching out for his gun, sprang to his feet.

I begged him to come down here, but he wouldn't—says that his hand is no longer steady enough to hold a gun—it's awful!