He saw the figures ahead of him halt and turn as they heard his voice and the glare behind him shone full upon them, the face of the man agape with inflamed surprise—Hawk Kennedy's, and the other, wide-eyed as at the sight of an apparition—Beth's.
Only thirty paces separated them when Hawk Kennedy fired. Peter heard Beth's scream and saw her strike at the man's arm, but furiously he swung her in front of him and fired again. But her struggles and the uncertain light sent the bullet wide. Peter did not dare to shoot for the man was using her as a shield, but he did not hesitate and ran in, trusting to luck and Beth's struggles. One bullet struck him somewhere as Beth seemed to stumble and crumple to the ground, but he went on unspent and catapulted into his man with a rush that sent them both sprawling into the smoldering foliage. Blinded by the smoke, but mad with fury, Peter struck and clutched, and Hawk's last shot went upward for Peter wrenched his wrist and then struck him full on the head with his own weapon.
He felt the man relax and slip down into the dust and smoke, where he lay motionless.
Peter drew himself up to arm's length, wondering at the feebleness of his muscles and the trouble with his breathing.
"Beth!" he gasped, frantically, searching the smoking ground for her.
"Peter—thank God!" Her voice was just at his ear and an arm went around his neck.
"Beth! Beth! You've got to get out of this."
"Come, Peter—there's time——"
Just then a branch crashed down just beside them, showering them with sparks.
"Come, Peter—come!" she cried.