Ruggle there broke into the silent evening a bellowing human voice,
nasal, raucous, at the highest pitch of pain. "Help! Help! Police!
Murder! Murder!" The gag was broken; and the tongue of terror was loose.
"Keep on!" gasped Turnbull. "One may be killed before they come." The
voice of the screaming shopkeeper was loud enough to drown not only the
noise of the swords but all other
noises around it,
but even through its rending din there seemed to be some other stir or
scurry. And Evan, in the very act of thrusting at Turnbull, saw
something in his eyes that made him drop his sword. The
