"Damnation!" he yelled, and leaped in with both arms outspread.
The impetus of his rush drove them both to the floor, where they
rolled over and over, and before they stopped thin fingers were locked
about the bull neck of the bandit, and two thumbs driven into the
hollow of his throat. With a tremendous effort he heaved himself from
the floor, his face convulsed.
He beat with both fists against the lowered head of Dan. He tore at
those hands. They were locked as if with iron. Only the laughter, the
low, continual laughter rewarded him.
He screamed, a thick, horrible sound. He flung himself to the floor
again and rolled over and over, striving to crush the slender,
remorseless body. Once more he was on his feet, running hither and
thither, dragging Dan with him. His eyes swelled out; his face
blackened. He beat against the walls. He snapped at the wrists of Dan
like a beast, his lips flecked with a bloody froth.
That bull-dog grip would not unlock. That animal, exultant laughter
ran on in demoniac music. In his great agony the outlaw rolled his
eyes in appeal to the crowd which surrounded the struggling two. Every
man seemed about to spring forward, yet they could not move.
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