Harleston had been shifting slowly from one foot to the other, feeling
behind him for the man with the garrote. He had him located now and the
precise position where he was standing--one of his own legs was touching
Sparrow's.

At the instant Crenshaw had finished his question, Harleston suddenly
kicked backwards, landing with all the force of his sharp heel full on
Sparrow's shin.

Instantly the garrote loosened; and Harleston, with a wild yell, sprang
forward and swung straight at the point of Crenshaw's jaw.

Crenshaw dodged it--and the two men grappled and went down, fighting
furiously; Harleston letting out shouts all the while, and even managing
to overturn a table, which fell with a terrific smash of broken glass
and bric-à-brac, to attract attention and lead to an investigation.

He had not much trouble in mastering Crenshaw; but Sparrow, when he was
done spinning around on one foot from the agonizing pain of the kick on
the shin, would be another matter; the two men and the woman could
overpower him, unless assistance came quickly. And to that end he raised
all the uproar possible for the few seconds that Sparrow spun and the
woman stared.

Just as Sparrow hobbled to Crenshaw's aid, Harleston landed a short arm
blow on the latter's ear and sprang up, avoided the former's rush and
made for the hall-way.

At the same moment came a loud pounding on the corridor door. The noise
had been effective.