THE FUGITIVES I could not see the mingled hate and horror glaring in the man's eyes, but there could be no doubt of his recognition.

The acknowledgment found expression in a startled exclamation.
"By God!--you, here!" That was all the time I gave him.

With every pound of strength, with every ounce of dislike, I drove a clenched fist into that surprised face, and the fellow went down as though smitten by an axe.

Even as he reeled, Rale leaped on me, cursing, failing to understand the cause, yet instinctively realizing the presence of an enemy.

He caught me from behind, the very weight of his heavy body throwing me from balance, although I caught one of his arms, as he attempted to strike, and locked with him in desperate struggle.