Guy came back and we backed the car out and started.

Rinaldi, big backed, his equipment sprawling, lay face downward against the wall.

We backed up to a grey old man who bore an absurd resemblance to John D. Rockefeller.

Fuentes, tall, flat-backed, walking toward him arrogantly, his arms spread out, the two slim, red sticks, one in each hand, held by the fingers, points straight forward.

He backed Jack up against the ropes, measured him and then hooked the left very light to the side of Jack’s head and socked the right into the body as hard as he could sock, just as low as he could get it.