The footsteps drew nearer and nearer. A key grated in the lock. It clicked. The bolt was raised. Slowly the door swung on its hinges.
Like a flash, Ross slipped from his hiding-place and darted through the doorway. The only human within sight was Garfin. Like a mad thunderbolt Ross bore down upon him.
Taken by surprise, Garfin barely had time to fire before Ross was upon him. Too startled to take definite aim, his bullet went wild. With a force that was terrific Ross struck him with the full impact of his body. The two went down in a tangled heap. Garfin’s gun was knocked from his grasp and went spinning a dozen feet away.
Garfin was not without courage of a kind, but all his life he had depended on a gun to enforce his arguments. Physical combat had not been one of his long suits, and now he found himself no match for his younger antagonist.
Stan Ross was far from a weakling physically. Long months afoot in the desert had made him as hard as nails. Not so long ago he had been known as a football player of some note. Now he used that knowledge of rough-and-tumble combat to the fullest extent.
Taking Garfin by surprise, Ross had the initial advantage, and when the two went down he was on top. Striking, kicking, using the crushing force of his body, he went at the gunman in a demoniacal storm. For an instant it looked as though he would beat his enemy into insensibility before he could offer any material resistance.
But Garfin was fighting for his life and he knew it. He was not to be vanquished so easily. In a moment the two men were threshing and rolling on the ground in a fierce struggle.
Youth, however, was not to be denied. Those sledge-hammer blows were having a telling effect. Garfin was weakening. Gradually Ross was wearing him down.
Ross sought the throat of his enemy. Garfin’s breath came in gasps. His eyes were bulging. Gradually Ross brought his knee up until it pressed into Garfin’s stomach. A final effort would end the struggle. Slowly Garfin’s head bent backward. Then—
A crashing, blinding blow caught Ross on his head. For a brief instant a million fires flamed before his eyes. Then utter blackness.