I held him to me in a bear grip, but his overmastering strength bore me backward, my body bending beneath the strain until every muscle ached.
"Damn you--you sneakin' spy!" he hissed savagely, and his jaws snapped at me like a mad beast.

"Let go! damn you--let go!" Crazed by the pain, I swerved to one side, and half fell, my grip torn loose from about his arms, but as instantly closing again around his lower body.

He strained, but failed to break my grasp, and I should have hurled him over the hip, but at that second Gaskins struck me, and I went tumbling down, with the saloon keeper falling flat on top of me, his pudgy fingers still clawing fiercely at my throat.

It seemed as though consciousness left my brain, crushed into death by those gripping hands, and yet the spark of life remained, for I heard the ex-preacher utter a yelp, which ended in a moan, as a blow struck him; then Rale was jerked off me, and I sobbingly caught my breath, my throat free.

Into my dazed mind there echoed the sound of a voice.
"Is thet 'nough, Jack ?--then holler.