He flung out his arm before Quade had fully recovered, and blind luck carried the keen edge of the knife across his enemy's pouchy cheek.

The blood came in a spurt, and with a terrible cry Quade leaped back toward the pile of saddles and panniers.

Before Aldous could follow his advantage the other had dropped his knife and had snatched up a four-foot length of a tepee pole.

For a moment he hesitated while the blood ran in a hot flood down his thick neck.

Then with a bellow of rage he rushed upon Aldous.
It was no time for knife-work now.