Twice Lefty made enormous efforts, but then he was done. About his body the limbs of Donnegan were twisted, tightening with incredible force; just as hot iron bands sink resistlessly into place. The strangle-hold cut away life at its source. Once he strove to bury his teeth in the arm of Donnegan. Once, as the horror caught at him, he strove to shriek for help. All he succeeded in doing was in raising an awful, sobbing whisper. Then, looking death in the face, Lefty plunged into the great darkness. 4 When he wakened, he jumped at a stride into the full possession of his faculties. He had been placed near the open door, and the rush of night air had done its work in reviving him. But Lefty, drawn back to life, felt only a vague wonder that his life had not been taken. Perhaps he was being reserved by the victor for an Indian death of torment. He felt cautiously and found that not only were his hands free, but his revolver had not been taken from him. A familiar weight was on his chest--the very knife had been returned to its sheath. Had Donnegan returned these things to show how perfectly he despised his enemy? "He's gone!" groaned the tramp, sitting up quickly. "He's here," said a voice that cut easily through the roar of the train. "Waiting for you, Lefty." The tramp was staggered again. But then, who had ever been able to fathom the ways of Donnegan? "Donnegan!" he cried with a sudden recklessness. "Yes?" "You're a fool!" "Yes?" "For not finishing the job." Donnegan began to laugh. In the uproar of the train it was impossible really to hear the sound, but Lefty caught the pulse of it. He fingered his bruised throat; swallowing was a painful effort. And an indescribable feeling came over him as he realized that he sat armed to the teeth within a yard of the man he wanted to kill, and yet he was as effectively rendered helpless as though iron shackles had been locked on his wrists and legs. The night light came through the doorway, and he could make out the slender outline of Donnegan and again he caught the faint luster of that red hair; and out of the shadowy form a singular power emanated and sapped his strength at the root. Yet he went on viciously: "Sooner or later, Donnegan, I'll get you!" The red head of Donnegan moved, and Lefty Joe knew that the younger man was laughing again. "Why are you after me?" he asked at length. It was another blow in the face of Lefty. He sat for a time blinking with owlish stupidity. "Why?" he echoed. And he spoke his astonishment from the heart. "Why am I after you?" he said again. "Why, confound you, ain't you Donnegan?" "Yes." "Don't the whole road know that I'm after you and you after me?" "The whole road is crazy. I'm not after you." Lefty choked. "Maybe I been dreaming. Maybe you didn't bust up the gang? Maybe you didn't clean up on Suds and Kennebec?" "Suds? Kennebec? I sort of remember meeting them."