At the end of this race he took a long breath and waited. There would be a struggle, he knew that. The best man would win; there was no one to aid.
With a sharp intake of breath, he touched a button, a trap flew open. With a leap he cleared the opening and fell sprawling. His estimate of time had failed him. The skulking stranger had tripped over him and they had gone down together!
CHAPTER IV
A FIGHT IN THE NIGHT
Johnny Thompson was as nearly as possible a perfect physical being. Having been taught from childhood the necessity of physical well-being and muscular prowess to the business man as well as to the mechanic or professional athlete, he had kept himself fit and had never neglected an opportunity to learn some new trick or turn on the wrestling mat or gymnasium floor.
In the struggle that followed the collision there in the dark aisle of the factory neither Johnny nor the stranger had the advantage of anticipating attack. Both had been surprised.
Johnny soon learned that his antagonist was no ordinary person. Seizing the man by the feet, Johnny clamped on with a grip of iron. But to his utter surprise the man gave the sudden twist of a professional contortionist, and came up between his own knees, clawing at Johnny’s face like a cat.
Loosing his hold Johnny made a sudden grab for the other’s waist, but in that fraction of a second the man took a sudden double backward somersault, and leaping to his feet, dashed away.
Instantly Johnny was up and after him. He was dashing along at full speed, making a good gain at every leap, when of a sudden he banged into a perpendicular wall. The wall was rising. It lifted Johnny some four feet in air to dash him to the floor again.
“The fake wall!” he muttered, astonished. Had the other runner known of this trap and had he sprung it? Or had it been an accident?
There was not a moment to lose. Dashing back the way he had come, he rounded a pillar and was again in full pursuit.