With one lashing out of a foot that sent Enright hurtling
against the farther wall, he cracked Lacy's head against a corner of
the desk, and closed in deadly struggle with the third man, whom he now
recognised as Beaton.
Before the latter could comprehend what had happened the miner was on
top, and a clenched fist was driven into his face with all the force of
a sledge-hammer. But barroom fighting was no novelty to the gunman,
nor had he any scruples as to the methods employed. With teeth sunk in
his opponent's arm, and fingers gouging at his eyes, the fellow
struggled like a mad dog; yet, in spite of every effort to restrain
him, Westcott, now filled with the fierce rage of battle, broke free,
fairly tearing himself from Beaton's desperate clutch, and pinning him
helplessly against the wall.
At the same instant Lacy, who had regained his feet, leaped upon him
from behind, striking with all his force, the violence of the blow,
even though a grazing one, driving the miner's head into the face of
the gunman.
Both went down together, but Westcott was on his feet again before Lacy
could act, closing with the latter.
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