Then he clutched the reeling man by the arm and dragged him across to the window and bundled him out with as little ceremony as if he had been a sack of oats.
Blinded himself by this time and hardly knowing what he was doing, Jack managed to climb through the opening and drop down on top of the writhing figure on the ground.
Here Perk found them both as he came full tilt around the corner, realizing something not down on the bills as far as his knowledge went, must have taken place.
“Jack–what’s happened–are you bad hurt, buddy?” Perk demanded excitedly as he bent down over his chum.
“All right–only had to use the tear-gas again–be better right off–don’t let Kearns get away on your life!”
“Hot ziggetty! you jest bet I won’t old hoss!” whooped the delighted Perk as he squatted alongside the still writhing Oswald, his automatic held in readiness only waiting for Jack to recover enough to take things in charge.
“Look in the room–see if the papers are safe–in the fireplace–he started to burn the whole batch and beat us to the scratch–had to give him the whole works to save ’em!”
Thus enlightened, Perk stood up and took a look then burst out in a joyous shout that would have done credit to any cow-puncher on earth.
“It’s all dandy, Jack–papers safe an’ we got our man ditto. Mebbe now I’ll soon get a chance to treat my tummy to some decent grub, ’cause my ribs’re stickin’ to my backbone, I’m that empty.”
Before long Jack’s eyes ceased to sting and his vision once more became almost normal. By then, too, Kearns had come to his senses, with Perk keeping him subdued by means of prodding a weapon in his ribs.