Reaping the Whirlwind

The end came suddenly.

During a deadly grapple--with first one man, then the other, on
top--Donald called into play the last of his nervous reserve force, and,
with a mighty effort, broke free, and flung Judd face downward on the
ground. The latter's right arm was extended, and, grasping the sweaty
wrist, he drew it up and back, at the same instant crowding his knee
into the spine of the prostrate man.

Judd cursed and wriggled frantically; but only succeeded in grinding his
battered face into the torn turf. It was some seconds before the
conqueror could gain breath enough to speak. At last he panted out, "Now
I've got you. If you move I'll dislocate your shoulder like _this_!" An
involuntary shriek of agony was wrung from the defeated man's bleeding
lips.

"I'll let you up when ..."

"Oh, ooooh!" came a startled, terrified cry from above him. Donald
lifted his eyes, and saw Rose standing on the bank where he had stood.

For an instant he remained as though turned to stone, staring at the
girl with growing dismay. Finally he got slowly to his feet,
instinctively gave partial aid to Judd as he too struggled up, his
burning eyes also fixed on Smiles. It seemed as though the two
dishevelled, dirt-covered and bleeding men typified the brute in nature,
and stood arraigned there before the spirit of divine justice, for the
slender girl's white dress, and no less white face, against the
background of dark green, made her appear almost like an ethereal being.