He made a profound bow, and started as if to go.
“Thank fortune I am rid of him!” thought Bob.
But the youth was mistaken. Reaching the door, the lunatic suddenly turned, and, before Bob was aware, sprang straight for the youth’s throat.
The attack was so unexpected that Bob was borne over backward, the crazy man landing on his breast.
“Let up!” gasped Bob, desperately.
The crazy man did not reply, but tightened his grip on Bob’s throat, so that he was nearly choked to death.
In vain Bob struggled. He could not loosen that nervous hold the lunatic had taken, and now his head began to swim, and strange lights began to flicker before his eyes.
He tried to kick, but could not reach his opponent. Half a minute more passed, and poor Bob was on the point of giving himself up as lost.
Then the door of the studio opened, and Mr. Starleigh hurried in, followed by Mr. Martin.
“Hullo! what’s this?” cried the old photographer, surveying the strange scene in astonishment.