The blade of the other sheathed itself in the shoulder of his antagonist, and in the next second each was tugging at the hilt of a knife in his opponent's shoulder.
The shirts of the desperate combatants were hanging in ribbons where the keen blades had been drawn in hopes of finding a human path and through the rents livid streaks showed in strong relief against the white flesh.
Weak from exertion and loss of blood, the fighters staggered together and with arms thrown about each other's necks, hung resting each upon the other.
"Break away!" thundered Jesse.
His voice seemed to rouse them suddenly—to renew the hate that for the moment had been allowed to slip like a mantle from the hearts of the two friends.
Their movements were slower now and less certain.
Finally each with a hand upon the other's shoulder began swinging the free arm to give it momentum and even then their blades did not reach.
"Thrust!" roared the blood-thirsty bandit chieftain.
Exerting a supreme effort a hand swung away from each body and returning empty hung listlessly at its owner's side.