"I have been thinking that I ought to kill you.

I had almost made up my mind to kill you when I came back to this _Maison de Mort Rouge_.

It is the justice of God that I kill you!" The two men circled, like beasts in a pit, Howland in the attitude of a boxer, Jean with his shoulders bent, his arms slightly curved at his side, the toes of his moccasined feet bearing his weight.

Suddenly he launched himself at the other's throat.
In a flash Howland stepped a little to one side and shot out a crashing blow that caught Jean on the side of the head and sent him flat on his back.

Half-stunned Croisset came to his feet.