A blow on his left wrist and the whistle fell into the road.

A dark figure had sprung up, apparently from space; a long arm was twined around Pritchard's neck, bending him backwards; there was a gleam of steel within a few inches of his throat.

And then Tavernake saw a wonderful thing.

With a turn of his wrist, Pritchard suddenly seemed to lift the form of his assailant into the air.

Tavernake caught a swift impression of a man's white face, the head pointing to the street, the legs twitching convulsively.