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"For the last time," said the man hoarsely.
There was something about the fellow's actions that told Ted he was
desperate, yet at the same time afraid of the act he was about to
commit.
The knife was about to descend when Ted cried out an alarm, the first he
had sounded.
He heard some one running in the hall. His assailant heard it, also, and
hesitated, looking around with frightened eyes.
"Yi-yipee!" It was Bud's voice, and Ted breathed a prayer of
thankfulness.
"I'll give it to you, anyhow," muttered the man, and again the knife
went up in the air.
But it did not make a strike, for at that moment Bud bounded into the
room, and, taking in the situation with a lightning glance, his foot
flew out, and the toe of his heavy boot struck the man on top of Ted
fairly in the ribs. There was a cracking sound, and with a groan the
fellow dropped the knife and struggled to his feet.
Rushing at Bud, he bowled that doughty individual over like a tenpin,
and dashed into the hall, along which he ran swiftly and lightly, for
so large a man.


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