She heard him come up to the door, and heard him fumbling with the key in the lock.
In very desperation she crouched above the door, holding the club.
The door flew open, and he started to enter the room.
She steeled her nerves and summoned all her strength. Then, quick as a flash, and before he could do anything, she brought the table-leg club down on his head with all her might.
The blow was a heavy one, and, without a moan or a groan, Panther Pete fell forward into the room, lying in a heap just where he fell.
The girl almost collapsed with horror at the deed she had done; but she saw that now was her time to escape, before this deed was discovered by his followers, or he returned to consciousness, if she had not killed him.
She feared she had killed him, he lay so still.
The thought held her, trembling, for a full minute on the ledge. Then she climbed down, stumbling against him as she half fell to the floor.
He moaned and moved, and this so frightened her that she sprang through the doorway to the outside.
She still held the club; but she was too frightened to stop and close the door, or put out the light. All she could do was to run; and she ran as fast as she could, with trembling limbs, straight away from the horror of that hut.