Hugo Van Diest made the mistake of his life when he abandoned mental force for violence. The hand he raised to strike Richard across the face never reached its mark; instead he felt himself go tottering backward across the room. There was not much force in the blow Richard struck, but the science was good and he put his weight into it. Van Diest took it on the point and as he measured his length on the floor he saw Richard make a dash for the door which had remained unlocked during the interview. Ezra P. Hipps caught him on the landing outside and put on a jiu-jitsu armlock which closed the argument and sent Richard staggering toward his bedroom beaten it is true, but absurdly enough triumphant. "Listen you," he gasped, his back against the panel. "You think I can be made to speak--you're wrong--You think I can be tortured and beaten and bullied into giving up the secret. You're wrong--wrong. There's something inside of me that'll lick you, lick you hollow. Do your damndest, my lads, my breaking point is outside your reach." And as a Parthian arrow he said "Blast you!" and banged the door. CHAPTER 29. INDIVIDUAL RESOURCE. A point of interest arises as to how long one determined girl armed with a revolver can hold up three desperate men also armed and further fortified by greed of gold. Your average tough is not greatly alarmed by a pistol in the hands of a woman. He banks on the theory that so long as she thinks she is aiming in his direction, he is moderately secure from harm. It is when she is pointing at some other object fear arises as to his safety and well being. In this particular instance, however, there was an unusually threatening quality in the demeanour of Jane. She trained her gun like any artilleryman and in a manner not lightly to be dismissed by the casual process of a rush. Added to which the position in which these adventurers found themselves--a compact mass in a single doorway--did not offer good opportunities for acts of individual or concerted heroism. They formed, as it were, a unified target, the bull's-eye of which was the centre of Alfred Bolt's immense corporation. To suppose that any marksman, however indifferent, could fail to register a hit upon so broad an invitation was to betray unreason. Dirk who had had previous experience in similar situations remarked with melancholy that the steely eyed Amazon who commanded their destinies kept carefully out of reach of his foot. This was a pity since he was contemplating trying the effect of kicking her on the knee-cap, a proceeding which if performed adroitly is often fruitful of happy results. Bolt, too, knew a very effective means of ramming his head into the solar plexus of an adversary, but this again was a form of attack dependent on proximity.