Filled with rage and venom he had expected an easy triumph, and, instead, he was now fighting for his life.
Skelly struck again and again at the boy, but Harry, with instinctive wisdom, pressed his head close to the man's chin, and Skelly's blows at such short range lacked force behind them.

All the while Harry's youthful but powerful arms were pouring strength into the hands that grasped the man's throat.

The mountaineer choked and gasped, and, changing his aim from the head, struck Harry again and again in the chest.

Then he remembered to draw his pistol, but Harry, raising his knee, struck him violently on the wrist.

The pistol dropped to the ground, and Skelly, in the fierce struggle, was unable to regain it.
Neither had uttered a cry.