Directly opposite him and at a distance of four or five feet was a door
leading to a back alley. This door the emissary now guarding him had
locked as a precaution against surprise and had carefully placed the key
in his vest pocket.
Locke weighed each detail of his plan and then, bracing his feet firmly
against the wall, he suddenly shot his lower limbs forward and, like the
closing of a pair of giant shears, he wrapped his legs about the neck of
the emissary and immediately exerted enormous pressure with his knees.
The emissary, taken totally by surprise, struggled to break the hold,
and Locke's thumbs were almost wrenched from their sockets. But he held
on grimly. Soon the thug's struggles subsided, Locke released him, and
he slipped to the floor.
Locke was wearing a low-cut shoe. Strange that a man's life may hinge on
such a slight detail, but this fact enabled him to work off his right
shoe and his sock. He extended his bare foot, and with his toes searched
the pocket of the emissary for the key to the door. Finally he found it.
Locke held the key as firmly as he might between his toes and,
projecting his body by a muscular effort far away from the wall, he
managed to insert the key in the lock.
Pages:
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94