Jeekie erected himself also, and even as the knife began
to fall, with one hand he caught the arm that drove it and with the
other the murderer's throat. The Mungana fought like a wild-cat, but
Jeekie was too strong for him. His fingers held the man's windpipe like
a vise. He choked and weakened; the knife fell from his hand. He sank to
the ground and lay there helpless, whereon Jeekie knelt upon his chest
and, possessing himself of the knife, held it within an inch of his
heart.
It was at this juncture that Alan woke up and asked sleepily what was
the matter.
"Nothing, Major," answered Jeekie in low and cheerful tones. "Snake
just going to bite you and I catch him, that all," and he gave an extra
squeeze to the Mungana's throat, who turned black in the face and rolled
his eyes.
"Be careful, Jeekie, or you will kill the man," exclaimed Alan,
recognizing the Mungana and taking in the situation.
"Why not, Major? He want kill you, and me too afterwards. Good riddance
of bad rubbish, as Book say."
"I am not so sure, Jeekie. Give him air and let me think. Tell him that
if he makes any noise, he dies."
Jeekie obeyed, and the Mungana's darkening eyes grew bright again as he
drew his breath in great sobs.
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