With a sudden turn of his wrist he almost brought Bennett to his knees. Both men clung so tightly to each other’s left wrists, however, that little advantage was to be gained by sudden twists. It was the steady pressure of steel against steel that would finally gain the day. One arm must be stronger than the other--one foot more skilful--one eye more true. “This is a bad end for you, Boyd Bennett!” began Cody again. He was scarcely panting himself; but the other was breathing hard, gnashing his teeth, rolling his eyes, like a veritable madman. He screamed with rage at this remark of the scout’s, and the froth flew from his lips. If ever a man was mad, Boyd Bennett was that person. “And all for what?” quoth the scout. “What did you make by it? The girl would have nothing to do with you. Had you remained in Oak Heart’s camp you might have finished me. But _not_ that way!” guarding himself from a furious lunge of the other’s knife. “No, no, my boy! You made a grave error. Back there you had some power. You might have had the upper hand over me. Now _I_ have it!” “Not yet!” roared Bennett. “Oh, yes, I have! I’m only playing with you, I tell you. When I am ready I’ll put you where the dogs won’t bite you! Ah! how’s that?” Boyd had made a furious lunge; and his hand had slipped on Cody’s wrist. Quick as lightning the scout slipped aside, broke from the death-grapple, and slit the point of his knife up Bennett’s upper arm, making a deep, ugly wound. The blood fairly spurted from the severed artery. It was then but a matter of a few minutes before Bennett would be helpless, unless he managed to finish Cody first. They circled about each other again, watchful as cats. Once or twice they tried to grapple, but it amounted to nothing. Bennett’s wound was troubling him sorely. The blood was running in a stream from the point of his elbow. “Say your prayers--if you have any to say, you scoundrel!” exclaimed the scout sternly. “For you pay for your murders and atrocities here and now! If you have killed that poor girl by your brutal treatment, you pay for it in short order.” Bennett leaped in at him. The scout gave back a bit, and suddenly his foot slipped on a wet slab of rock. He fell to one knee. With a yell of delight, the wounded bandit flung himself upon him. It was not the scout’s finish, however. Cody had a wealth of reserve force yet. He flung himself forward to meet Bennett’s charge, caught his left wrist and the weight of the man’s body upon his left shoulder. The scoundrel’s stroke overreached, and the pit of his stomach came in heavy contact with his antagonist’s shoulder-bone. That antagonist rose up suddenly and pitched Bennett clear over him. The man landed on his head and shoulders, but, as though made of India rubber, he bounded to his feet and faced Cody again.