continue it at intervals, until he had kicked the life out of the
deformed body.

He drew his foot back for another blow. But the blow remained
undelivered. There was a rush of horse's hoofs, a clatter as they
ceased, the sound of running feet, and a smashing blow took the
torturer on the side of the jaw. He dropped like a log beside his
victim. The whole thing was the work of an instant. So swift had come
the avenging blow that, in the darkness, he had no time to realize its
coming.

Jim Thorpe stood over his man waiting for him to rise, or show some
sign of life. But there was neither movement nor apparent life in
him. In the avenger's heart there was a wild hope that the man was
dead. He had hit him with such a feeling in his frenzy of passion. But
he knew he had only knocked the brute out.

As Will remained still where he had fallen, Jim turned away with a
sigh. It would have been difficult to interpret his sigh. Maybe it was
the sigh of a man who suddenly relaxes himself from a tremendous
physical effort; maybe it was at the thought that his momentary desire
had been accomplished; maybe it was for the poor lad whose terrible
cries were still ringing in his ears.

Thinking only of Elia, he now dropped on his knees beside him. There
was sufficient light from the stars to show him the lad's pallid
upturned face and staring, agonized eyes. In a second his arms were
about his misformed body, and he tenderly raised him up and spoke to
him.

"Look up, laddie," he said gently. "You aren't hurt too bad, are you?
I got here quick as I could. Say, he hasn't smashed you, has he? God!
if he has!" He looked round at the fallen man with blazing eyes, as
the thought flashed through his mind.

But suddenly he felt Elia's body writhe, and he turned to him again
with eager words of encouragement.

"Buck up, laddie," he said, without much conviction. "Guess you aren't
smashed as bad as you think. It's Jim. I'll look after you. He won't
hit you again. I've fixed him."

Elia's staring eyes suddenly lost their tension. He moved his head and
tried to free his arms. Jim picked him up and set him on his feet, and
noted that he breathed more freely. Yes, he had been in time.

Elia steadied himself for a moment against his arm. He was silent, and
still breathing hard. His body was racked with fierce pain, but his
poor distorted mind was suffering greater. Jim waited patiently. He
understood. It was the awful shock that the boy, in