Bob Galvin’s hand swung suddenly upward. It struck Hodgson’s wrist. The revolver flew across the room.
Galvin leaped upon the old man. They grappled.
The odds seemed greatly in Bob’s favor, but he encountered a surprise. Hodgson’s feebleness lay only in his legs.
The old man’s grip was ferocious. He wrestled bravely with his young adversary. They fell to the floor. Hodgson was on top.
IT seemed that the old servant was due to overpower his opponent. Bob had one hand free, but he could not use it to advantage. He stretched his arm wildly and his fingers encountered the barrel of the revolver.
Bob picked up the weapon. With a quick twist, he freed himself for the instant. In so doing, he laid himself open to a new attack by Hodgson.
As the old man flung himself forward, Bob’s arm swung. The butt of the revolver struck Hodgson’s head. The servant sank with a groan.
With cruel viciousness, Bob swung again. He rose to his knees and battered the helpless man’s head with the revolver.
There was no limit to his fury. Hodgson was dead from the fourth blow, but Galvin kept on and on until Hodgson’s head had become a terrible sight.
Then, an ugly leer spreading over his face, Bob arose and looked down at his handiwork.