for air, while a strange whistling sound came from its throat. Its body
appeared to be paralysed.

"It can't move. You've broken its spine," cried Raymond, as he reached
them. "Your first shot it must have been. Look! Your second's torn its
throat."

He pointed to the neck and went round to the other side. From a jagged,
gaping wound where the expanding bullet had torn the throat, the blood
spurted and air whistled out with a shrill sound.

Wargrave turned to Violet and took the terrified woman, who seemed on
the point of fainting, in his arms.

"All right, little girl. It's all right. The brute's done for."

She pulled herself together with an effort and looked nervously at the
crocodile. Then she released herself from Frank's clasp and said,
smiling feebly:

"What a coward I am! I'm ashamed of myself. Where's John? Oh, here he
is. Doesn't he look funny?"

The Resident, very red-faced and out of breath, had slowed down into a
shambling walk and was puffing and blowing like a grampus. As he came up
to them he spluttered:

"Is it safe? Is it dead?"

"It's harmless now, sir," answered Raymond. "It's still living but it