ng in those iron arms, screamed, cursed,
and battered at the face above him, kicking and biting in his frenzy.

"The Killer! wad ye ken wha's the Killer? Go and ask 'em at Kenmuir! Ask
yer ----"

David swayed slightly, crushing the body in his arms till it seemed
every rib must break; then hurled it from him with all the might of
passion. The little man fell with a crash and a groan.

The blaze in the corner flared, flickered, and died. There was
hell-black darkness, and silence of the dead.

David stood against the wall, panting, every nerve tightstrung as the
hawser of a straining ship.

In the corner lay the body of his father, limp and still; and in the
room one other living thing was moving.

He clung close to the wall, pressing it with wet hands. The horror of
it all, the darkness, the man in the corner, that moving something,
petrified him.

"Feyther!" he whispered.

There was no reply. A chair creaked at an invisible touch. Something was
creeping, stealing, crawling closer.

David was afraid.

"Feyther!" he whispered in hoarse agony, "are yo' hurt?"

The words were stifled in his throat. A chair overturned with a crash; a
great body struck him on the chest; a hot, pestilent breath volleyed in
his face, and wolfish teeth were reaching for his throat.

"Come on, Killer!" he screamed.

The horror of suspense was past. It had come, and with it he was himself
again.

Back, back, back, along the wall he was borne. His hands entwined
themselves around a hairy throat; he forced the great head with its
horrid lightsome eyes from him; he braced himself for the effort, lifted
the huge body at his breast, and heaved it from him. It struck the wall
and fell with a soft thud.

As he recoiled a hand clutched his ankle and sought to trip him. David
kicked back and down with all his strength. There was one awful groan,
and he staggered against the door and out.

There he paused, leaning against the wall to' breathe.

He struck a match and lifted his foot to see where the hand had clutched
him.

God! there was blood on his heel.

Then a great fear laid hold on him. A cry was suffocated in his breast
by the panting of his heart.

He crept back to the kitchen door and listened.

Not a sound.

Fearfully he opened it a crack.

Silence of the tomb.

He banged it to. It opened behind him, and the fact lent wings to his
feet.

He turned and plunged out into the night, and ran through the blackness
for