ed against the jawbone.

His head jerking as he received John's punch, the thug reeled back,
throwing up his hand to cover his face. John rushed at him and sank his
bruised right fist into his middle. As the fist clouted against his
abdomen the bruiser grunted and, doubling over, grabbed John in his
arms. John lifted his left arm as they clenched and pushed his elbow
against the other's throat. Pulling himself out of the clinch as the
"basher's" hold weakened when the elbow pressed against his neck, John
whirled and stopped with his back against the wall. He danced lightly
from side to side to confuse the thug, who stood panting before him.

Louie, only stunned by the blow with the bottle, pulled himself to his
hands and knees. John saw that his face was smeared crimson from the cut
on his head. Realizing that the "basher" in front of him was "stalling"
for time, waiting until Louie was on his feet again John darted to one
side and seized a chair, swinging it up over his shoulder. His hand with
its broken knuckle was puffed and painful and it hurt to bend the
fingers to grasp the chair.

Louie was on his feet, poised for a leap. John threw the chair at the
"basher" before him and dashed to the other side of the room.

"I'll get him, Joe," Louie gasped, wiping the blood from his eyes and
taking a firmer grip on the black-jack. As Louie rushed at him John
seized the heavy water pitcher on a table near him and hurled it. With a
snarl on his lips, Louie ducked and the pitcher broke against the wall
behind him. Louie was smarter than Joe had been. He "led" with his left
hand and as the blow was warded off he swung the black-jack with his
right. John jerked back his head, but the club grazed his cheek, tearing
open the flesh. Before he could recover, Joe's brass knuckles crashed
against his forehead, opening another cut.

John wabbled to his feet. His brain was numbed and he was blinded by the
blood from the laceration over his eyes. Feebly he lifted his arms to
protect his head. Joe pulled his arms down from his face and Louie drew
back his black-jack for the knockout blow. As he was about to strike,
John, with the last flickering move of instinctive self-protection, sank
to the floor. With a curse, Louie lifted his foot to kick the prone
figure beneath him.

John nerved himself for the blow that was to knock him insensible. He
knew it was the end. He heard a scuffle of feet and dimly, through the
blood from his wounds