The pendulum of chance had swung the other way, and things looked very dubious for the detectives—and for what was left of Helga Lund!
CHAPTER XXXIII.
A HUMAN WHEEL.
Chick had thrown himself to one side to ease the pressure on his back. Accordingly, he struck the floor on his left side.
Chester and Graves dropped heavily upon him before he had more than touched the boards, the former at his feet, the latter on his shoulders.
Their bony knees crushed him down, and Graves used his weight to try to pull Chick over on his back.
Nick’s assistant had twisted his left wrist out of Chester’s grasp as he fell, but the renegade physician had clung for dear life to the hand which held the automatic.
Chick allowed himself to be pulled over on his back—for a very good reason: His free arm had been under him as he lay on his side, and he wanted an opportunity to use it.
Graves grabbed at it at once, but Chick stretched it—all but the upper arm—out of his antagonist’s reach. Graves would have to lean far over Chick in order to reach the latter’s left wrist, and, in so doing, he would expose himself not a little. Or else he would be obliged to edge around on his knees, behind Chick’s head.
He chose to try the latter maneuver, but Chick feinted with his left arm. Graves dodged, and Chick’s hand darted in behind the other’s guard, grasping Graves firmly by the hair.
Almost at the same instant the young detective jerked his right foot loose and gave the startled Chester a tremendous kick in the stomach.