Page:The Whisper on the Stair by Lyon Mearson (1924).djvu/307

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BLOOD AND GOLD
301

dropped from his hand, the wrist hanging uselessly, broken. Val lifted him and threw him at Teck, who was now jumping at him.

Kicking the body of the tough aside, Val leaped at Teck. The two great bulks met in midair and hung there for an instant, their big bodies straining. Eddie was getting the best of his opponent, forcing him back and down, pounding violently at him with his fists.

Val could feel the muscles of Teck swelling under his arms as they strained backward and forward. This was no mean opponent, with his great weight and his terrible passion. Teck’s face was livid in his anger, and against the pasty skin his scar throbbed and glowed evilly, his mouth sending forth a stream of foul curses. He wrenched an arm loose and started to flick it upwards at Val’s head, but Val had had that done to him once; he was watching for him. He seized the arm in the nick of time, and it never landed.

“Now, Iggy!” panted Val, forcing him backwards, landing blows on his stomach as he spoke, to each one of which Teck grunted in pain. “Over you go!” They were now on the edge of the cleared space, overhanging the valley below.

Backwards he forced him, and still backwards, always holding that right arm of his where it could do no harm. Over . . . over . . . still further . . .

A calm voice broke in on them, cold as steel, and emotionless.

“That will be about all of that, Teck.”

Everything stopped in a moment, arms suspended in air, muscles taut. They looked in the direction from where the voice came.

A great gasp came from Teck and Jessica. Val stared in his astonishment.