They were hissing and roaring at him this time. They had hitherto been
silent, and he seemed to hear at first a low murmuring whisper, as if
they consulted together as to the best way to attack him. Then the
whisper grew to a louder swishing sound like the noise Mag had made as
her body hurtled from side to side on falling down the shaft. It grew
louder and louder, like the wind coming through far-off trees, gradually
swelling to a roar. The eyes grew in numbers and got larger with the
noise; and finally, with terror clutching at his heart and an oath upon
his lips, he turned to run back, only to find that they had all merged
into two wide, horribly glaring fiery eyes which were bearing down upon
him with the speed and noise of an express train. They were on him
before he could turn, as if they now realized that he was fully at their
mercy, and with the courage of desperation he flung himself bodily upon
them and went down crushed beneath the heavy mass of a motor driven with
reckless speed by a young man rushing to catch a train.
Walker was down before the young man realized what had happened and the
hoot of the horn had merely spurred Black Jock to the last desperate
leap to death, the lights of the motor having taken on the shape of all
the pursuing eyes that had followed him that night.
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