ountered the cold panes of a window and then found
the entrance to the room above the kitchen.

He stopped--it was barely possible that the sound he heard had echoed
from here. He revolved the wisdom of a match, but--he had progressed
very well so far--decided negatively. One aspect of the situation
troubled him greatly--the absence of any sound or warning from Millie.
It was highly improbable that his entrance to the house had been
unnoticed. The contrary was probable--that his sudden appearance had
driven Nicholas above.

Woolfolk started forward more hurriedly, urged by his increasing
apprehension, when his foot went into the opening of a depressed step
and flung him sharply forward. In his instinctive effort to avoid
falling the pistol dropped clattering into the darkness. A sudden
choked cry sounded beside him, and a heavy, enveloping body fell on
his back. This sent him reeling against the wall, where he felt the
muscles of an unwieldly arm tighten about his neck.

John Woolfolk threw himself back, when a wrist heavily struck his
shoulder and a jarring blow fell upon the wall. The hand, he knew, had
held a knife, for he could feel it groping desperately over the
plaster, and he put all his strength into an effort to drag his
assailant into the middle of the floor.

It was impossible now to recover his pistol, but he would make it
difficult for Nicholas to get the knife. The struggle in that way was
equalized. He turned in the gripping arms about him and the men were
chest to chest. Neither spoke; each fought solely to get the other
prostrate, while Nicholas developed a secondary pressure toward the
blade buried in the wall. This Woolfolk successfully blocked. In the
supreme effort to bring the struggle to a decisive end neither dealt
the other minor injuries. There were no blows--nothing but the
straining pull of arms, the sudden weight of bodies, the cunning
twisting of legs. They fought swiftly, whirling and staggering from
place to place.

The hot breath of an invisible gaping mouth beat upon Woolfolk's
cheek. He was an exceptionally powerful man. His spare body had been
hardened by its years of exposure to the elements, in the constant
labor he had expended on the ketch, the long contests with adverse
winds and seas, and he had little doubt of his issuing successful from
the present crisis. Iscah Nicholas, though his strength was beyond
question, was heavy and slow. Yet he was struggling with surprising