Explore "The Law of the Land" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The intruder had no time to look about him, he had hardly set foot on the solid oak floor before a figure loomed up before him, and a strong, sinewy hand gripped him by the throat. Utterly taken by surprise, Clarkson reeled back and fell heavily upon a pile of some sort carpet material with which the floor was more or less covered.
He felt now as if he was fighting for his life; he struggled to get that tight grip from his throat. Already the blood was beginning to rush to his head, and his heart commenced to beat like a hammer. It was time for a desperate effort, and he made it. His knee came up suddenly, there was a grunt from his antagonist, and the iron grip relaxed. Clarkson rolled over and over till he came under a window, where the light of the moon streamed in. Then, as his antagonist followed him, he saw his face for the first time.