walked close to the wall on the down-river side, so that his form might not be outlined against the opening of the bridge, and he was conscious that he was as completely concealed, since he had advanced a rod into the darkness, as were his companions. It was a question of endurance, and in that his training gave him the advantage.
Softly there came out of the darkness a noise as of the moving of a tired leg. Inch by inch Trafford crept close to the board wall, until now it was at his back, with one of the heavy timbers protecting his left arm. His right was free for defence. The sound indicated a man within a few feet of him on his left.
Suddenly there was the sharp swish of a club in the air, and the thud of contact with a living body, followed by a loud cry of pain and
"Sacré; c'est moi, Pierre!"
"Mon dieu! Où est le chien?"
Two men rushed past toward the Millbank end, with a jabber of Canadian French, from which Trafford learned that the assailed feared that his shoulder was broken.
