Toppy stood and looked down at his vanquished foe. The convulsive rise
and fall of his breast as he panted for breath told how desperately and
savagely he had fought. Now as he stood victorious and looked down upon
the man he had conquered, the chivalry innate in him began to stir with
respect and even pity for the man whom he had beaten. He looked at
Reivers' bloody face as, the head turned on one side, it lay nuzzled
helplessly against the soft ground. A wave of revulsion, the aftermath
of his fury, passed over him, and he drew his hand slowly across his
eyes as if to shut out the sight of the havoc that his fists had
wrought.
And now happened the inevitable. Toppy had not foreseen it, never had
dreamed it possible. But now the men who had watched cried aloud their
hatred of the big man who lay before them. The king-man, their master,
was down! Upright, they would have quailed before his mere look. But now
he was down! The man who had mastered them, broken them, tortured them,
lay helpless there before them. The courage and hate of slaves suddenly
in power over their master flamed through them. This was their chance;
they had him now.
"We got him! Kill him! Come on! Finish him!" they roared, and threw
themselves like a pack of wolves upon the prostrate man. Even as they
rushed Reivers raised his head in returning consciousness; then he went
down under a shower of heavily booted feet.
With a bellow of command Toppy flung himself forward. He knew quite well
that this was what Reivers deserved; he had even at times hoped that the
men some time would have the opportunity for such revenge. But now he
discovered that he couldn't stand by and see it done. It wasn't in him.
Reivers was down, fairly beaten in a hard fight. He was helpless.
Toppy's rage suddenly swerved from Reivers to the men who were trying to
kick the life out of him.
"Back! Get back there, I say!" he ordered.
He reached in and threw men right and left. He knocked others down. One
he picked up and used as a battering-ram, and so he fought his way in
and cleared the rabble away from Reivers. Reivers with more than human
tenaciousness had retained a glimmer of consciousness. He saw Toppy
standing astride of him fighting for his life. And in that beaten,
desperate moment Reivers laughed once more.
"You're a ---- fool, Treplin," said he. "You'd better let them finish the
job."
Toppy dragged him to his feet. A gleam of mastery flashed over the
Snow-Burner as he felt himself standing upright. He swung to face the
men.
"Out of the way there, you scum!" he ordered, in his old manner. The men
laughed in reply. The spell had been broken. The men had seen the
Snow-Burner knocked down and beaten. They had seen that Toppy was his
master. They had kicked him; they had had him under them. No longer did
he stand apart and above them. They cursed him and swarmed in, striking,
kicking, hauling, and dragged him to the ground.
"Give him to us, bahss!" they cried. "Let us kill him, bahss!"
Some of them hung back. They did not wish to run contrary to the wishes
of Toppy, their "bahss" and champion. Toppy once more got Reivers on his
feet and dragged him toward the gate. A knife or two gleamed in the
crowd.
"Run for the gate!" cried Toppy. Reivers tottered a few steps and fell.
Over him Toppy stormed, fought, commanded, but the mob pressed
constantly closer. Then, suddenly, they stopped striking. They began to
break. Toppy, looking around for the reason, saw Campbell and a guard
running toward them--Campbell with his big revolver, the guard with his
gun at a ready. With a last tremendous effort he picked Reivers up in
his arms and ran to meet them. He heard the guard fire once, heard
Campbell ordering the men to stand back; then he staggered out of the
stockade and dropped his heavy burden on the ground. Behind him Campbell
and the guard slammed shut the gate, and within the cries and curses of
the men rose in one awful wail, the cry of a blood-mob cheated of its
prey.
Reivers rose slowly, first to his hands and knees, then to his feet. He
looked at Toppy, and the only expression upon his face was a sneer.
"You ---- fool!" he laughed. "You poor weak sister! You'll be sorry before
morning that you didn't let the men finish that job!"
He turned, and without another word went staggering away to the building
where he and the guards lived.