But before he could complete his sentence, the escaped convict ducked and threw his body sidewise, the long arms were already above his head and he left them where they were. Their abnormal length helped to bridge the distance between him and Nick as he flung himself at the detective.
Nick guessed the nature of the move, as if by instinct, and when he fired, which he did immediately, it was with depressed muzzle. He had allowed, in other words, for the swift descent of Grantley’s body.
In spite of that, however, the bullet merely plowed a furrow across the criminal’s shoulder and back, as he dropped. It did not disable him in the least, and, before Nick could fire again, Grantley’s peculiar dive ended with a vicious impact against his legs, and claw-like hands gripped him about the knees in an effort to pull him down.
The convict’s daring act broke the spell which had held his companions. Without waiting to see whether Grantley’s move was to prove successful or not, the three of them threw themselves bodily upon Chick, while the latter’s attention was diverted for a moment by his chief’s peril.
Doctor Chester, who had been looking for something of the sort from Grantley, was the first to pounce upon Nick’s assistant. He gripped Chick’s right wrist and began to twist it in an attempt to loosen the hold on the weapon.
“Help Grantley, Willard,” he directed, at the same time, between his clenched teeth. “Graves and I can handle this fellow, I guess.”
Willard started for Nick, while Graves shifted his attack, and, edging around behind Chick, seized him by the shoulders. At the same moment he placed one knee in the small of the young detective’s back.
There could be only one result:
Chick was bent painfully back until his spine felt as if it was about to crack in two; then, in his efforts to relieve the strain, he lost his footing and went down, with Chester on top of him, and still clinging doggedly to his wrists.
A few feet away Nick was being hard pressed by two other rascals.