He moved a step nearer to Marcus, then another.
Suddenly the men grappled, and in another instant were rolling and struggling upon the hot white ground.

McTeague thrust Marcus backward until he tripped and fell over the body of the dead mule.

The little bird cage broke from the saddle with the violence of their fall, and rolled out upon the ground, the flour-bags slipping from it.

McTeague tore the revolver from Marcus's grip and struck out with it blindly.
Clouds of alkali dust, fine and pungent, enveloped the two fighting men, all but strangling them.
McTeague did not know how he killed his enemy, but all at once Marcus grew still beneath his blows.

Then there was a sudden last return of energy.