I was perfectly prepared, and the instant the soldier's hand touched Isaacs I had the man in my grip, catching his upraised arm in one hand and his throat with the other.

The struggle did not last long, but it was furious in its agony.

The tough Punjabi writhed and twisted like a cat in my grasp, his eyes gleaming like living coals, springing back and forward in his vain and furious efforts to reach my feet and trip me.

But it was no use.

I had his throat and one arm well in hand, and could hold him so that he could not reach me with the other.