Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1912-07-20
struck by the slaughtering hammer.
But his skull was thick and he did not


But his skull was thick and he did not
fall; and my own injury was, perhaps
as great az his. thought dimly that
I had broken some bone In my hand,
and noticed, in detached sort of way,
that my glove had split from finger
croch to wrist, SO that the back OF my
hand showed through like livid cash.
Then, like a flash. he had closed with
me. his left arm clapped about my
back and his leg locked behind mine in
the simple, old wrestling trick per-
fectly familiar to boys the world over.
l knew 1t too we'll to be much afraid
of it, and only Strengthened and stiff
ened against 1t, working my right arm
up until 1t was between us, until
got my hand fairly under his chin,
pushing his head up and backward.
When man is fighting for other
lives than his own. he fights not by
any particular code, except that
the instinct of tradition forbids him to
use his teeth; but fights, as best he
may to win, using whatever means
present the most potent possibilities.
/ hoped, once had pushed his head
backward far enough, to strike him
across the throat with the edge of my
hand, a short, chopping stroke, that
was the only thing recalled of for
gotten lessons In jiu jitsu; but Morrison
suddenly let 60 and the very pressure
of my hand upon his chin sent him
backward and away from me out OF
immediate striking distance. so that the
arms which struggled for the revolver
were stretched like rope between us.
But now there was no longer any ques-
ton Of his being able to wrench him
self away, for with the seconds Of
lighting my strength was coming back
to me again, and the power which
had never used but once before began
to glow through me like old brandy.
I do not mean that was certain of
him, but only certain that he could not
wrench his hand away. For the great,
sloping shoulders had not belied the
man. He was stronger than any one
had ever met, and now, as for the mo-
ment we looked in each others eyes,
as he saw In mine know not what joy
OF battle or leaping lust of longed-for
vengeance, and as saw his face grow
stern and set with realization, grow
white and tight.lipped as the face Of
a man who finds himself, In a moment,
breast to breast with death. l knew
that must fight warily and well. I
frightened still more the hand that
grasped his wrist, and still looking at
him, bent 1t slowly over, hoping by
the agony of the twist to loosen the
fingers that clenched the revolver
butt. saw the pain in his face; and
then the most dreadful and fearful
thing man can see, utter and abso-
lutte fear, the mad terror that Is more
dangerous than sheer courage, the
maniac strength Of the basic and ulti-
mate coward.
! threw my arm before my face In
stinctively as he leaped at me, jerking
and holding him away as best could
with the other, SO that his teeth snap
ped like dogs but a few inches from
my face Though for full minute |
held him struggling In the middle Of
the floor, tearing at me with his free
hand, striking with his lowered head,
kicking, scratching and biting. great
and horrible thing. man fallen sud
denly brute with all brute's vicious
unreasoning strength, yet, by what
grace I do not know, escaped unhurt;
and as his strength began to lessen, l
pushed him back and back, until had
him fair against the wall of the room,
with the open bars behind him, where
rested for moment, painting. Then
II pushed his hand backward and up
until the steel Of his weapon ratified
and grated against the blind bars Of the
window the revolver fell at last from
his fingers, striking the sill as it fell
and dropping out into the darkness.
flung aside his hand, then, and
stepped back pace or so, for I was
still foolish enough to want to fight
him fairly. But when he had little
recovered himself, saw his eyes flick
er to the door which had been bolted
behind him until they reached the cleo
trio push-button, which he had evident
" meant to ring when he wished the
door again unbolted; and, though 1t
had been only glance, l knew as we'll
as IL he had shouted 1t aloud that he
had had enough Of fighting, and that
his only thought was to get to that
bell. Nevertheless, l stood where I
was and watched quietly, getting my
breath again and gathering myself
together to meet any move that he
might maks. But when that move
came, 1t was not directly toward the
door, as 1 had expected, but suddenly
and obliquely toward the little iron
wash-stand in the corner. His hand
was fairly on the tin pitcher before I
reached him and struck him with all
my strength.
He threw up one arm In some kind
OF guard, while his other hand, now
grasping the handle OF the pitcher,
jerked It toward me, splashing little
cascade Of water on to the bare boards
of the floor. But though the blow
spent some OF it's force upon his arm,
yet It staggered him and carried him
back, so that, as followed 1t with my
other hand, caught him this time I'm.
guarded, full and fair on the point Of
the chin, shaking his head upon his
shoulders. His arms jerked up con-
vulsively and fell; and he crashed
back into the wall behind him; tottered
crumpled and fell sprawling to the
floor on his face. The heavy tin pitch
er clattered by his side and drenched
him with water, but he did not move;
and turned him over on his back.