"Hold!" Mason shouted this word as if he possessed the fire of a Forest or an Edwin Booth.
Involuntarily the giant became motionless. It was only for a few seconds, however, and the deadly knife would have descended after all.
A pistol crack rang out with startling distinctness, awakening the echoes of this subterranean place. The boy trailer had fired; his prey had been tracked down, and the closing scene of the tragedy drew near.
Red Goliath dropped his blade with a howl, and clapped his hand up to his left shoulder, where the lodging-place of the bullet could be seen by the blood that wet his flannel shirt.
Two inches from his heart; not a bad shot, considering the excitement consequent upon the termination of the chase, and the dim light afforded by the cracks above, and yet it came very near costing the boy his life.
After shooting, in his eagerness to prevent the monster from doing Adele any harm in his dying moments (thinking his shot fatal), Mason sprang forward and presented his revolver.
It was a bad move on his part. Although agile beyond all calculation, his excitement made him less cautious than was his custom.
Red Goliath gave a singular cry when the boy appeared, for he recognized him at once, even though the young gentleman he had seen in New Orleans was now clad in the fanciful garb of a hunter.
In spite of his astonishment, the man did not lose his presence of mind an iota.
He saw the leveled revolver, and gave it a knock that sent the weapon spinning to the other end of the cavern, and the next instant the boy was clasped by the giant's one useful arm.