The man's hand caught it, and his right hand shot forward and buried itself in the thick, soft mass of her hair.
It was then that something broke loose in Peter.

For this day, this hour, this minute the gods of destiny had given him birth.

All things in the world were blotted out for him except one--the six inches of naked shank between the bootlegger's trouser-leg and his shoe.

He dove in.
His white teeth, sharp as stiletto-points, sank into it.

And a wild and terrible yell came from Jed Hawkins as he loosed the girl's hair.