As he staggered back, Dorothy felt herself seized from behind. A quick twist and pull sent her antagonist hurtling off to the right. It was not for nothing she had put in long hours mastering the complicated throws and holds of jiu jitsu, that strenuous art of Japanese wrestling.
She freed herself in time to see Bill crash his fist into the face of a third man.
“Come on!” he yelled, and they raced for the line of trees.
But their troubles were not over yet. Straight ahead and directly in their path, another dark figure was leaping toward them. There was no time to dodge—to swerve. Bill dove at the man, stopping him short and bringing him to the ground with a clean tackle just above his knees. The force of contact was terrific. For the fraction of a second neither the tackler nor his opponent moved. Then as Dorothy, trembling with excitement, bent over them, Bill scrambled to his feet.
“Are you hurt, Bill?” The girl’s voice was breathless with concern.
“No—only winded—” he gasped. “Be all right—in a minute.”
Dorothy gripped him by the arm and they trotted forward again, gradually increasing their speed as Bill regained his breath. From behind them came the calls and angry shouts of their pursuers.
All at once, the inky black blur of the woods loomed before them.
“Keep along the edge of this pasture toward the wood road,” Dorothy whispered quickly. “I’m going to start a false trail. Maybe we can fool them. You get your breath—join you in a minute or two.”
She sprang into the underbrush, crashing over low bushes, snapping dead twigs and branches under foot with all the clatter of a terrified cow in a cane brake. Then the noise stopped as suddenly as it started, and Bill was surprised to hear her light footsteps at his heels.