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Buck, Charles Neville, 1879-1930

"A Pagan of the Hills"

Now caught unexpectedly into helplessness she still writhed and
twisted, fighting with savage knee-blows until she had freed her right
hand and then she struck out with no feminine uncertainty. The fellow
reeled back, and Alexander followed him up with lightning speed.
She had become a fury animated by a single purpose. She meant to
unmask her assailant and register his face for a future reprisal of
death. The man, recognizing that at all costs he must defeat that
recognition, was compelled to throw both elbows across his face and to
bear without further retaliation the blows she rained upon him--all
blows that were soundly effective.
The thing happened quickly and for an instant the other three stood
looking on in astonishment--even, at first, with amusement. But as the
fellow backed across the tiny brook he tripped and he fell sprawling
and his out-thrown hand carried down and extinguished one of the
lanterns from its precarious niche on a small shelf of rock.
Alexander, making most of her brief moment, leaped across the body that
had gone down and recovered from its place on top of the saddle-bags
the pistol that had been taken from her at the time of her capture.


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