ard----Better crushed under a falling mountain
than in those brute arms.

And then she saw. From ten feet above, straight down dropped something
else. Taut nerves of those who saw fancied it a great boulder falling.
But no boulder this, which, striking the little pile of rocks, became
animated, rose, whirled, and----

"Mark!" screamed Gloria. "Mark!"

Turned to stone, incredulous of their eyes, bewildered beyond the power
to move, were those who saw. It was Brail who first understood, Brail
the one man with a gun in his hands. He whipped it up and began firing,
nervous and excited. It was after the second shot that King's rifle
answered him; it roared out like the crash of doom in Gloria's ears; she
saw the stabbing spurt of fire. Brail sagged where he stood, crumpled
and pitched forward, his rifle clattering loudly against the rocks.

But by now the brief stupor that had locked the other men in staring
inaction was gone. Gloria saw figures leaping forward; she knew that
Brodie's hands had relinquished her; she saw Brodie bearing down on
King, roaring inarticulately as he went; she saw Benny and Jarrold and
the Italian bearing down upon him; King was in the midst of all that.
They were upon him before Brail's head had struck the ground. They gave
him no time, no space for another shot. He swept his clubbed rifle high
over his head; she heard the blow when he struck, the hideous sound of a
crushing skull. A man went down, she did not know which one. Only it was
not Mark--thank God it was not Mark King!

And now King had a little room and an instant of his own as two other
men swerved widely about the falling figure. He fired again, not putting
the rifle to his shoulder. Another man fell, lay screaming, rolled
aside--was forgotten.

"Where's my rifle?" Brodie was yelling.

He couldn't find it in the dark; he couldn't stop to grope for it. But
Gloria knew; she remembered. She ran for it, found it, straightened up
with it in her shaking hands.

Again King was using his weapon as a club, since they pressed him so
closely. Again came that terrible sound; Steve Jarrold it was who went
down. And with it another sound, that of hard wood splintering. The
rifle was broken over his head, the stock whirled close to Gloria, King
had only the short heavy steel barrel in his hands.

Benny had circled to the far side; Brodie had caught up a great thick
limb of wood. They were coming at King from two sides at once.... Gloria
t