"Please, Cap'n," the sergeant pressed.

Now, sergeant, you must not press me.

The sergeant pressed his trigger; and Gian-nah-tah fell forward on his face, a bullet through his brain.

So Sergeant Williams and the first sergeant pressed Sergeant Feyer to withdraw the charges.

They crowded round the sergeant, slapping his back, pressing cigarettes and coarse makhorka tobacco into his hands and tunic pockets.

All at once it was his turn and the big sergeant selected a rifle and pressed it to his chest and straightarmed it with a bit extra oomph because he was from Alabama and I prayed Steve would field it okay and he just simply sidestepped.

"That's no mule, mister, that's a girl and her clothes are..." The sergeant reached out swiftly and pressed a button on the top of the viewer.

The sergeant pressed a button on her desk.

The sergeant pressed the trigger.