At it they went.
Barry Brown was a terrible man in just such a rumpus.
He was possessed of magnificent muscle, was active, wiry, quick as a cat upon his feet, and seemingly as sharp-eyed, and moreover, he appeared to really love to strike his awful blows.
Captain Jerry Prime was not exactly a slouch when it came to a hand-to-hand conflict.
In fact, he was pretty much the same sort of screamer as Barry Brown, on a very much reduced scale, and these two screamers recognized the fact that they were well-matched antagonists.
With mutual howls of delight, they made for each other.
Prime made a quick clip at the head of his opponent with his pistol, but the detective caught it squarely on his arm, and made a counter blow with his bowie.
Crack went a pistol, and the bullet grazed the forehead of the captain, knocking him down just in time to escape the deadly thrust of Barry Brown’s knife.
All this time Harry Hale and Gorse had been contending fiercely with their many foes, sticking closely together, and trying to reach the stairway.
They were both wounded; although their injuries were but slight, they could not ward off every blow aimed at them by their furious enemies, and their chance of escape seemed small.