“Keep off, Patsy!” cried Chick. “Don’t come into this, or you’ll spoil it. Don’t you see that?”
“Gee! I can see it, all right. But it’s mighty tough on me. I’ve been shut out of this whole circus. When this is over, I’m a goat if I don’t go out and hit a policeman. I’ve got to get action somehow.”
Nick Carter saw that he had Ched Ramar giving way now, and he determined to make an end of the struggle without further waste of time. The fight had been conducted very quietly. It had not even disturbed the two maids, asleep upstairs, and there was no reason to suppose the fracas had been heard on the street.
“You think you have me, I suppose?” hissed Ched Ramar, as he fought with all the energy he had left.
Nick Carter did not answer. He knew that the cunning Indian was trying to make him talk, and thus divert his attention. Instead, he gave his enemy a sudden and harder twist that took him an inch farther back.
There was an inarticulate ejaculation of rage from the Indian, and his black eyes glowed fiercely through his glasses. He stopped for a second the onward rush of his assailant. Then, as he was obliged to give way, he jerked up his arms and tried to bring the edge of the scimitar across Nick Carter’s face.
The attempt failed, but it brought the battle to an abrupt end.
As Nick Carter leaped aside to avoid the scimitar, he kicked the feet of Ched Ramar from under him. Back[Pg 41] went the Indian, crashing against the gigantic image of Buddha behind him.
For a moment the enormous idol rocked on its pedestal. Then, as it lost its balance, down it came, pedestal and all, toward the two fighters!
One corner of the pedestal struck Nick Carter on the shoulder and laid him out flat on his back.