Alexis was upon them in a trice, Hal and Chester close behind him. Rapidly the huge club of the giant rose and fell, once, twice, thrice–even to five times, and with each crushing blow a man went down with a crushed skull. The others drew back.
The two lads now ranged themselves on either side of Alexis, and together they charged the foe. There was no escape for the bandits, now backed into a corner; but they fought back with a desperation born of despair. Three minutes later there was not a man standing on his feet.
Alexis rested the end of his club upon the ground, and leaning on it, wiped the perspiration from his brow. Then, after a brief rest, he led the way to the entrance to the cavern, barred by the great rock.
“Here,” said Chester, “I am afraid, is where we stop. We do not know how to open it.”
Alexis pushed the lads aside and examined the rock. Then, without a word, he dropped his club and put his shoulder to the boulder that barred the exit. The first attempt made no impression. Taking a deep breath, the giant tried again. Putting every ounce of his herculean strength into this final effort, he exerted himself to the utmost.
Slowly the huge rock began to move. Slowly it began to swing outward. Then, more rapidly, until, as the catch was released, it swung away back on its hinges. Alexis, unable to recover his balance, fell forward on his face. He was up in a moment, however, and the three darted from the cavern.
For half a mile they sprinted, seeking to put as great a distance as possible between themselves and the cavern before pausing for breath. Then, suddenly, Alexis toppled over on the ground.
Hal dropped to his knees and gently raised the giant’s head.
“Quick, Chester! Some water!” he cried.
Chester darted away, and soon returned with water in his cap. This Hal sprinkled over the giant’s face. His efforts were rewarded at length. The color slowly returned, and Alexis heaved a deep sigh. Consciousness was returning.