let. White fear sent a spasm over the latter's features as he felt a snubbed point of steel against the small of his back.
"Give him the butt," he panted hoarsely. "Don't—try—to shoot!"
Then he bent his head to whisper brokenly into the ear just below his chin:
"Better quit! She 'll kill—I—won't."
Just a flash of Original's teeth bared in a grin as his head came up and one of his legs suddenly curled round below Zang's knees. Back they went against the heavy table just as the clubbed gun in Hilma's hands came swinging down upon Zang's shoulder instead of on the black head which had dodged less than an inch. The table teetered for an instant, then crashed over, and the three of them sprawled in a fighting, tumbling heap on the floor.
"I said alive was better 'n dead," Original grunted as they rolled in a deadly lock. Zang felt his left arm being inexorably warped away from its grip round Original's neck; his right, with the waiting cuff on the wrist, was almost useless because of the numbing wound through the palm. A sickening fear began to sweep over the outlaw; that bit of steel around
