His eyes blazed with hate, merciless, vindictive, and he struggled like a fiend to break free.

I saw the girl, still dazed from her fall, struggling to her feet, with face uplifted, then my every consideration was riveted on my antagonist.

This was to be no boy's play, no easy victory; his muscles were like iron, his movements so quick and unexpected as to put me on the defensive.

I could only hold tight, braced for the strain, yet forced back in spite of every effort, inch by inch across the floor, my feet tangled in the rug.

Neither could strike, nor kick; I was weaponless, and I dare not release his arms for fear he might possess a gun.