Page:The Whisper on the Stair by Lyon Mearson (1924).djvu/226

 “Yes, it’s me, you⸺ ⸺!” cursed the handless one, grating and sinister.

With a shock that shook the narrow hall the two big men thudded together, and Val remembered a distinct surprise at the great strength of the man with no hands. He felt no alarm, however, because how could Teck have a weapon? He had no hands in which to hold it.

That being the case, he disregarded the flailing arms of the big fellow and reached for his throat. He saw the other’s right arm come up suddenly, flicking up like the head of a rattlesnake, and he had no time to duck, even if he had wanted to.

It was a glancing blow on the head. That was all he knew. In front of him everything went black and silent, and he slumped down into a muscleless heap at Teck’s feet.

Val came out of it slowly. He saw a gleaming light, getting farther away, and now drawing closer. His head ached badly, and now the light began to come closer to him, and still closer, until finally it rested next to him, and he discovered it was the candle, lighted now, on the plain kitchen table in the living room, next to which he sat in the pine chair.

He tried to arise, and found that he could not. He was bound to the chair. For some moments he sat perfectly still, trying to piece together the happenings of the last few minutes. He found it difficult.

He remembered, of course, having put out his first assailant. He remembered recognizing Teck, and closing with him. He remembered the flick of the scoun-