"It's the half-breed....
An' I'm goin' to cut you--first for Ellen Jorth--an' then for Gaston Isbel!" Jean gazed down into the gleaming eyes.

Then his right arm whipped the big blade.

It flashed.

It fell.

Low down, as far as Jean could reach, it entered Greaves's body.
All the heavy, muscular frame of Greaves seemed to contract and burst.
His spring was that of an animal in terror and agony.