about to be wrecked by two worthless, cruel enemies.
Then Ralph closed his eyes. He set his lips firmly, and silently prayed that his wicked inquisitors would not dare carry out fully their announced programme.
"I'm ready," sounded Bemis' heartless tones.
"So am I," chorused Ike. "You'll wish you'd minded your own business and let us alone, Ralph Fairbanks."
Bemis began to put the pressure on the vile instrument of torture. Ralph's breath came quick. He felt his fingers compress.
Chug!
Ralph strained his hearing at the new sound. He opened his eyes with a thrill.
The pressure on his hand was relaxed. The "nutcracker," released by Bemis with strange suddenness, dangled at Ralph's finger tips for an instant. Then it dropped harmless to the carpet with a dull clang.
Ralph saw something cleave the air directly in front of him. It was a human fist. It met the broad, astonished face of Mort Bemis squarely.
That shuddering, sickening sound echoed out. It reminded Ralph of the noise made by a boy playing with a big lump of clay, and spatting it violently against a wooden fence.
