fro the contestants swayed and reeled. The madman’s arms were like coils of steel as he wound them about his adversary’s body. His eyes glowed like red-hot coals. His teeth ground together in his insensate rage, and blood-curdling yells poured from his frothing lips. North had at times heard of the terrible strength of crazy men and their marvellous endurance. But he knew it now only too well. Possessed of great strength himself, and with finely developed muscles, he was weak compared with his raging brute antagonist. He felt his strength weakening in the terrible grip, and a sickening feeling of helplessness swept upon him. The thought of being overpowered by such a demon was maddening. He could not subdue him by mere physical force, that was quite evident, so in extremity desperate means must be used. At the first opportunity he drew back his right arm and struck his opponent a smashing blow on the left jaw. The effect was instantaneous. The encircling arms relaxed, the gripping fingers loosened their strangling hold, the tense body sagged, and then dropped in a heap upon the floor.
North staggered back weak and faint after the fray, and leaned for a few seconds against the wall. He was well aware, however, that the madman might speedily recover and rush again to the attack. Such a thing must be prevented. He looked around for a rope or strap, but seeing nothing, he seized one of the grey blankets upon the bunk and quickly tore off a long narrow strip. Turning over the prostrate man, he securely fastened his hands behind his back. With another strip he also tied his feet together. This done, he threw over him a couple of blankets, and left him upon the floor.
“Lie there, you brute,” he said. “It’s too good a
