jumped....

A moment later Blake parted the bushes, to see his employer wrench free
an axe which had bitten into the ground, and hurl himself after
Lyveden, who was on his feet again and running steadily about six paces
ahead.

For a second the fellow stared stupidly. Then he let out a yell and
started in pursuit.

The two ex-officers were evenly matched. If Anthony was the lighter
and younger, Winchester had run for Oxford. Moreover, the latter knew
the woods like the back of his hand. Anthony, who did not, ran
blindly. This was not a moment to pick and choose. All the time he
was desperately afraid of mire....

Briers tore at his legs, saplings whipped him across the face, a bough
stabbed at his eyes and, as he turned, scored his brow savagely; a
rabbit-hole trapped his foot and sent him flying, but he caught at a
friendly trunk and swung round to find his balance and a new line
before him. So quick was the turn, that the giant behind him lost the
yard he had gained. Down through a grey beechwood, over a teeming
brook, into a sodden drift of leaves, up through a welter of bracken,
on to the silence of pine-needles, over the top of the ridge into the
cursed undergrowth again, panting, straining, sobbing for breath, his
temples bursting, his hands and arms bleeding, unutterable agony in his
side, Lyveden tore like a madman. The pace was too awful to last.
Always the terror behind clung to his heels.

They were flying downhill now, and the giant's weight was telling. On
the opposite side of the valley was another pinewood. If he could only
reach that, between the good going and the up-gradient Anthony felt
that there was a bare chance. The thing behind, however, was coming up.

The slope grew steeper ... precipitous ... With a shock, Lyveden
realized that the giant must be almost above him, that he had only to
drop.... With a frightful effort he swerved. A tangle of matted thorn
bushes opposed him. Frantically he smashed his way through, kicking
desperately at the suckers, plunging to find a footing--a
holding--anything. For a moment he trod the air. Then he fell
heavily, head first, into a ditch....

Only the sight of the road before him and the firm brown carpet beyond
could have got him upon his feet. Dazed and winded, he staggered
across into the pinewood and started to struggle up the slope....

A sudden thought came to him, and he glanced over his shoulder. The
next moment he was lean