lay across the other's arm. From the side
pocket of his coat, where it evidently had been hurriedly thrust,
dangled a watch chain which the young man recognized as belonging to
the dead reporter.

Suddenly the atrocity of the situation dawned upon him. He had heard of
such things, of the ghouls who haunt the scenes of great disaster,
preying upon the bodies of the dead--robbing the helpless.

With a curse he seized the wirebound railway lantern. At the sound the
man looked up--it was the cigar salesman. The young man swung the
weapon with all his might. It cut the air in a descending arc, but the
other avoided the blow and the heavy lantern crashed against the wall
and went out.

Without an instant's hesitation he dived through the opening and met
the fiend as he was rising to his feet. Together they rolled among the
wreckage. While no match for his antagonist in size, the pickpocket was
tough and wiry and apparently uninjured. He fought viciously, with the
violence of desperation.

The athlete could hear the voice of the elderly man, who with his free
hand had torn the gag from his mouth, roaring encouragement. He
received a stinging blow on the cheek from which the warm blood gushed
instantly. Knucks, he thought, the cur!

Suddenly his groping hand came in contact with the other's throat just
above the rim of his collar. Instantly his fingers closed about
yielding flesh, their ends biting deep between the muscles.

As the clutch tightened the man redoubled his efforts. His body writhed
and he lashed out furiously with hands and feet. Blows rained upon the
young man's head but he burrowed close, shielding his face--and always
his grip tightened--the finger ends drawing closer and closer together.

He was only half-conscious now and the blows ceased to hurt. He
experienced a sense of falling from a great height. His subconscious
mind concentrated upon one idea--to maintain his hold. He must grip
tighter and ever tighter.

The other ceased to struggle and lay limp beneath his body, but of this
he knew nothing. The muscles of his arms were rigid, the clamped
fingers, nearly together now, were locked, and all the world was a
blank.

CHAPTER VIII

NEW FRIENDS

William Carmody opened his eyes to a sense of drowsy contentment and
well-being. That the elegantly appointed room over which his glance
traveled was not his room, disturbed him not at all.

He realized that his head was heavily bandaged and t