"Gassharamminy! Shoot him, can't you, while I hold him!" As he made that appeal the German convulsed his whole body like an earthquake, wrenched the knife loose at last, and as Coutlass changed position to guard against a new terrific stab rolled him over, freed himself and stood with upraised hand to give the finishing blow.

Then suddenly he saw us and his jaw dropped, the beastly mess that had been his well-kept beard dropping an inch and showing where the Greeks fist had broken the front teeth.

But that was only for a second--a second that gave Coutlass time to rise to his knees, and dodge the descending blow.
I made up my mind then it was time to shoot the German, whatever the crimes of the Greek might be; but Coutlass had not grown slower of wit from loss of blood.

As he dodged he rolled sidewise and seized my rifle, jerking it from my hand.

He jerked too quickly.