But, almost as the weapon left
his hand, M'Ginnis was upon him, and, reeling from the blow, Ravenslee
staggered blindly across the room, till stayed by the wall, and sank
there, crouched and groaning, his face hidden in his hands.
With a cry hoarse and fierce, M'Ginnis followed and stooped, eager to
make an end--stooped to be met by two fierce hands, sure hands and
strong, that grasped his silken neckerchief as this crouching figure
rose suddenly erect. So for a wild, panting moment they grappled,
swaying grimly to and fro, while ever the silken neckerchief was twisted
tight and tighter. Choking now, M'Ginnis felt fingers on his naked
throat, iron fingers that clutched cruelly, and in this painful grip was
whirled, choking, against the wall and thence borne down and down. And
now M'Ginnis, lying helpless across his opponent's knee, stared up into
a face pale but grimly joyous, lips that curled back from gnashing white
teeth--eyes that glared merciless. So Ravenslee bent M'Ginnis back
across his knee and choked him there awhile, then suddenly relaxed his
hold and let M'Ginnis sink, gasping, to the floor.
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