With a start
the child glanced quickly up over her shoulder. Korak could see
her full face now. It was very beautiful in its sweet and innocent
childishness--all soft and lovely curves. He could see her great,
dark eyes. He looked for the happy love light that would follow
recognition; but it did not come. Instead, terror, stark, paralyzing
terror, was mirrored in her eyes, in the expression of her mouth,
in the tense, cowering attitude of her body. A grim smile curved
the thin, cruel lip of the Arab. The child essayed to crawl away;
but before she could get out of his reach the old man kicked her
brutally, sending her sprawling upon the grass. Then he followed
her up to seize and strike her as was his custom.
Above them, in the tree, a beast crouched where a moment before
had been a boy--a beast with dilating nostrils and bared fangs--a
beast that trembled with rage.
The Sheik was stooping to reach for the girl when The Killer dropped
to the ground at his side. His spear was still in his left hand
but he had forgotten it. Instead his right fist was clenched
and as The Sheik took a backward step, astonished by the sudden
materialization of this strange apparition apparently out of clear
air, the heavy fist landed full upon his mouth backed by the weight
of the young giant and the terrific power of his more than human
muscles.
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