After what seemed an eternity she floundered out upon
the mainland, and when she reached the top of the bank she
saw to her delight that Byrne was still on his feet, fighting.
Foster and Norris were pushing their man back--they were
in no danger.
Quickly she ran toward Byrne and the samurai. She saw
a wicked smile upon the brown face of the little warrior, and
then she saw his gleaming sword twist in a sudden feint, and
as Byrne lunged out awkwardly to parry the expected blow
the keen edge swerved and came down upon his head.
She was an instant too late to save, but just in time to
avenge--scarcely had the samurai's sword touched the mucker
than the point of Oda Yorimoto's short sword, wielded by the
fair hand of Barbara Harding, plunged into his heart. With
a shriek he collapsed beside the body of his victim.
Barbara Harding threw herself beside Byrne. Apparently life
was extinct. With a little cry of horror the girl put her ear
close to the man's lips. She could hear nothing.
"Come back! Come back!" she wailed. "Forgive me that
cruel laugh. O Billy! Billy! I love you!" and the daughter of
old Anthony Harding, multimillionaire and scion of the oldest
aristocracy that America boasts, took the head of the Grand
Avenue mucker in her arms and covered the white, bloody
face with kisses--and in the midst of it Billy Byrne opened his
eyes.
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