would not go.

Finally the ranchman's superior condition began to tell in his favor. At
the end of ten minutes' fighting, the agent's breathing became labored
and his movements slower. Wade, still darting about quickly and lightly,
had no longer much difficulty in punishing the brutal, leering face
before him. Time after time he drove his fists mercilessly into Moran's
features until they lost the appearance of anything human and began to
resemble raw meat.

But suddenly, in attempting to sidestep one of his opponent's bull-like
rushes, the cattleman slipped in a puddle of blood and half fell, and
before he could regain his footing Moran had seized him. Then Wade
learned how the big man's reputation for tremendous strength had been
won. Cruelly, implacably, those great, ape-like arms entwined about the
ranchman's body until the very breath was crushed out of it. Resorting
to every trick he knew, he strove desperately to free himself, but all
the strength in his own muscular body was powerless to break the other's
hold. With a crash that shook the house to its foundation, they fell to
the floor, and by a lucky twist Wade managed to fall on top.

The force of the fall had shaken Moran somewhat, and the cattleman, by
calling on the whole of his strength, succeeded in tearing his arms
free. Plunging his fingers into the thick, mottled throat, he squeezed
steadily until Moran's struggles grew weaker and weaker. Finally they
ceased entirely and the huge, heavy body lay still.

Wade stumbled to his feet and staggered across the room.

"It's all right," he said thickly, and added at sight of Dorothy's wide,
terror-stricken eyes: "Frightened you, didn't we? Guess I should have
shot him and made a clean job of it; but I couldn't, somehow."

"Oh, he's hurt you terribly!" the girl cried, bursting into fresh tears.

Wade laughed and tenderly put his arms around her, for weak though he
was and with nerves twitching like those of a recently sobered drunkard,
he was not too weak or sick to enjoy the privilege of soothing her. The
feel of her in his arms was wonderful happiness to him and her tears for
him seemed far more precious than all the gold on his land. He had just
lifted her up on the sill of the open window, thinking that the fresh
air might steady her, when she looked over his shoulder and saw Moran,
who had regained consciousness, in the act of reaching for his revolver,
which lay on the bed where she had tossed it.