The pain gave me superhuman strength, and I
swung him sideways, the two of us tripping over the chair, and coming
down heavily on the deck. By some luck I landed on top, and, before he
recovered from the shock, had wrenched one arm free, locking my fingers
in his throat.
He squirmed under me like an eel, but could not break the grip, his face
purpling, until he lost all power. Fierce as the battle had been I
retained sufficient sense to loosen my death grip while the man still
breathed, lifting my head sufficiently to glance about. My own breath
came in sobs, and the perspiration almost blinded me.
"Bring me something to tie him with," I said brokenly. "Anything; yes,
that belt will do."
She tore it from the hook on the wall, and thrust it into my hands. With
a single movement I had it buckled securely about his arms, and was free
to sit up, and stare about. A cord from the portiere curtain draping the
bathroom entrance completed his lashings. With wicked eyes he stared up
at me, unable to move a muscle.
"By God, Craig!" he snarled, "you'll both wish you 'd killed me before ye
're done with this job."
I made no reply, using the corner of the desk to help me get to my feet.
"Do you hear!" he shouted. "What chance have you got to get away?"
"That is for me to decide," I answered.
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