Johnston McCulley

“ Togo cast off the mooring ropes and started the engine. He knew enough of motor boats to manipulate this one. When the engine was running smoothly he turned the nose of the craft down the stream, and threw on the power.
On the shore there was a flash of flame, and a bullet sang past Togo's head. He knew then that the launch was for use of Jones and Landren. Another shot came, and he heard a cry from the shore. Togo forced the motor boat to its extreme speed, got under cover as much as possible, and dashed down the stream. ”

“ Landren growled again, picked up the pail, and left the shack. Jones was finishing the last of the lunch. He glanced at Togo, and then lifted a piece of meat on a fork. In that instant, Togo slipped his wrists from the ropes.
Behind his back, Togo rubbed each wrist with the opposite hand until he fell the blood coursing through them. Jones turned his face away for an instant—and Togo sprang!
Togo knew ways of silencing men. He crashed against Jones and thrust out his hands. They gripped Jones by the throat, and the two thumbs were pressed in certain places. ”

“ Bertram Blaine heard him coming and whirled around. One shot he fired, but it failed to strike the mark. The next instant Togo's thumbs were pressed home, and Blaine gave a groan and crumpled up on the floor.
Togo threw the bolts of the door and hurled it open. A cloud of pungent gas rolled out. John Warwick, gasping, pale, ill, stumbled out with the cloud of gas, almost to collapse in Togo's arms.
“Sar! Sar!” Togo cried out.
“Good boy!” Warwick gasped. “Terrible stuff—gas! Been swallowing it for ages, it seems. Some people pay real money for the stuff. Just fancy! My word!” ”