forced a snarl from him, he came on. With glittering eyes and
hoarse breath, he forced himself to cross the last space. Minutes
passed before he was close enough to touch me.

Ah! Even as he turned toward my hand to seize it, even as I waited
to see, rather than feel, the crunching of my senseless arm, his
head drooped. He raised it once more, but his power was gone. He
laid his head, once so powerful, upon my hand, rested his body
against the stone, that stood high enough to support him, and
glared at me with his fierce, malignant eyes.

Then the fire changed in his eyes, clouded, flickered, glowed--went
out. The last breath was expelled with a wheeze. He was dead.

Then my own powers sank, and I thought that I was dying, too.
Somewhere in the midst of my faintness I had a sense as if I felt,
rather than heard, hasty, heavy footsteps on the bank above me. As
soon as I knew anything clearly, I knew that the tree had been
pulled away, and that Alaric was bending over me. He had, with ears
alert for any sound, and with footsteps kept as near to me as they
might be with obedience to my order, come rushing to my aid at the
sound at my first revolver-shot. But the distance was so great that
he did not arrive until my fight was over.




IN CANADA WITH A LYNX

By Roe L. Hendrick