His assailant leaped through the air, clasped two strong hands round his neck, and fell into the road, still gripping for all he was worth.
The two struggled ignominiously, and John became aware that the stranger, who had released one hand grip, was groping for the precious pocket-book. For the first time John was able to aim a blow, then, with a violent twist, he drew himself uppermost, and plunged his knee heavily into the other's chest. In the dim light he observed that his opponent was young. John was already aware that he had met no mean antagonist, and he was taking no chances.
The downward blow he now delivered on the other man's countenance staggered him for a moment. He wrenched himself free and stood upright on his feet.
His enemy was prone, but only for a moment.
"You've got a good deal of spirit, my young friend," said John, through his teeth, "but you'll get nothing from me, except another punch like the last! Now, get up!"
"Thanks," returned the other.
He rose and began to dust his clothes carefully. John did not like the man's attitude. He was quite obviously preparing to make another attack.
"Now," commanded John, moving back a pace, "don't try that with me!"
He stepped back and reached for the Colt weapon that reposed in his pocket.
"I should hate to do anything drastic," he continued; "but if you make it a habit to leap at people in the dark, and to aim half-arm jolts at strangers, you must take the consequences."