to see a more repulsive
spectacle; but when next I saw them, they were crouching again, and the
American was silent, undoubtedly suffering from his wound, which bled
freely. Presently he made another spring at Tovotsky, who ducked down,
but got a slit across his shoulder, whereon he set up a howl of pain,
and ran round and round the ring; while the other followed him, making
lunges terrible to see, but doing no more mischief. The effort took the
breath out of both of them, and they paused at last, panting like dogs,
and drinking spirits which their friends brought them. When they
resumed again, it was by mutual agreement, rushing at each other and
gripping. Each man then had got hold of the right hand of his
antagonist, so that the deadly knives were powerless, while the pair
struggled, trying to "back-heel" each other. Round and round they went,
bumping against their fellows in the circle, straining their muscles so
that they cracked, uttering fierce cries in the agony of the struggle
for life. But the American had the strength of it, and he forced
Tovotsky's hand back upon him, stabbing him with his own knife again
and again, so that the man's breast was covered with wounds, and he
seemed like soon to faint from weakness. It might have been that he
would have died where he stood, but by some terrible effort he forced
himself free; and with the howl of a wild beast, he thrust his own
knife to the hilt in the American's side. It broke at the handle; but
the long blade was left embedded in the flesh, and the force of the
blow was so overwhelming that Skinner drew himself straight up with
death written in his protruding eyes and distorted features. Yet he had
strength to seek vengeance, for his antagonist had now no weapon left
to him, which the American saw, and ran after him with a scream of
rage; when Tovotsky fled, breaking the ring, and scudding round the
great room like a maniac. There Skinner followed him, crying with pain
at every movement, almost foaming at the mouth as his wiry enemy eluded
him. At last the Russian approached the door, his opponent being within
a few feet of him, but the smaller man fell headlong through the
curtain, and at that the death-agony came upon Skinner. He stopped as
though held in a vice, hurled his knife at the Russian, and fell down
dead. The men gave a great shout, and rushed from the place to find the
other; but they brought him in dead as he had fallen, and far from
being moved at