He was aware of suffering, of horror, of suffocation.

Then the brain flashed into life, and he grappled fiercely with his dread antagonist.

Murphy snapped like a mad dog, his lips snarling curses; but Hampton fought silently, desperately, his brain clearing as he succeeded in wrenching those claws from his lacerated throat, and forced his way up on to one knee.

He felt no hatred toward this crazed man striving to kill him; he understood what had loosed such a raging devil.

But this was no time to exhibit mercy; Murphy bit and clawed, and Hampton could only dash in upon him in the effort to force him back.