At first the stupefied, half-awakened man struggled as if in delirium,
scarcely realizing the danger. He was aware of suffering, of horror,
of suffocation. Then the brain flashed into life, and he grappled
fiercely with his dread antagonist. Murphy snapped like a mad dog, his
lips snarling curses; but Hampton fought silently, desperately, his
brain clearing as he succeeded in wrenching those claws from his
lacerated throat, and forced his way up on to one knee. He felt no
hatred toward this crazed man striving to kill him; he understood what
had loosed such a raging devil. But this was no time to exhibit mercy;
Murphy bit and clawed, and Hampton could only dash in upon him in the
effort to force him back. He worked his way, inch by inch, to his
feet, his slender figure rigid as steel, and closed in upon the other;
but Murphy writhed out of his grasp, as a snake might. The younger man
realized now to the full his peril, and his hand slipped down to the
gun upon his hip. There was a sudden glint in the faint starlight as
he struck, and the stunned maniac went down quivering, and lay
motionless on the hard ground.
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