pil. We saw Wallace lift
his cap as LaHume came within a few yards of them. The latter stopped,
and though the trio was quite a distance away, we could plainly hear
LaHume's voice, but could not make out the words. Wallace made a
deprecatory gesture and Miss Lawrence drew herself up and faced LaHume
in an attitude of scorn.

I noted that LaHume was gesticulating with his left hand, and that his
right arm was lowered and to his back. He kept edging closer to Wallace.

Of a sudden LaHume's right hand swung out and he made a vicious lunge at
Wallace. I saw the latter throw up his guard, but it was too far away to
tell if the blow had landed. There was a struggle for a second or two,
then Wallace pushed him clear, and like lightning I saw his left hand
swing across to LaHume's stomach. LaHume was shot back several yards and
fell heavily, his feet in the path and his head and shoulders on the
turf.

It all happened so quickly that we stood there, spellbound. We saw Miss
Lawrence rush forward and half fall into Wallace's arms. We saw him
stagger to a lawn settee, she still clinging to him and screaming.
LaHume lay as if dead.

These latter details I noticed as Carter and I were running toward them.

Wallace was on his feet before we reached him. He was attempting to
calm Miss Lawrence who was moaning, "He has killed him; he has killed
him!" I knew she feared for Wallace, but I was much more apprehensive as
to the fate of LaHume.

Blood was trickling down the face of the young Scotchman, and its red
had stained a handkerchief which Miss Lawrence had pressed to his scalp
above his left temple. It was the sight of this which frightened her,
but she comported herself with as much bravery as would most women under
similar circumstances.

"I'm not much hurt," declared Wallace with a reassuring smile. "It's
only a scratch on the scalp. Miss Lawrence is more alarmed than I am
injured. I assure you it is nothing."

"LaHume struck him with a knife!" exclaimed Miss Lawrence, recovering
her nerve as a wave of anger came to her. "He called Mr. Wallace a
coward and a cad, and when Mr. Wallace tried to calm him he struck at
him with a knife. Oh, I hope you have killed him!"

[Illustration: "LaHume was shot back several yards"]

"I'm afraid your hope is realised," said Carter, bending over the inert
form of LaHume.

"Small fear of that," said Wallace, but I detected a note of
apprehension in his voice. "I aimed to disable witho