“We’ve got to camp pretty soon,” Bob announced a little later, as it began to get dark.

“What do you suppose those fellows will do when we stop?” Rex asked anxiously.

“I reckon they’ll stop too,” Jack replied dryly.

“I don’t like it at all,” Bob shook his head.

“Him heap bad,” Kernertok agreed.

“Well, we might as well land as soon as we come to a good place,” Bob declared. “They evidently intend to keep it up.”

“Don’t you think the four of us could handle them in a rough and tumble?” Rex asked, as they paddled slowly along close to the shore.

“That all depends,” Bob replied slowly. “So far as brute strength is concerned any one of them could probably handle two of us, but as a rule they don’t know much about either boxing or wrestling.”

“And it’s a mighty good thing they don’t,” Jack broke in. “If some of those fellows were properly trained they’d be world beaters.”
150

Just as Jack spoke Bob saw a good place to land, and a moment later the canoe was pulled up on the bank. When they landed the other canoe was about a hundred feet behind them, and they all waited anxiously to see what the half-breeds would do. They were not left long in doubt, for no sooner did the men see their intention than they headed for the same place, and, a few minutes later, landed only a little distance below.

“Let me do the talking,” Bob said a moment later, as he saw that they were coming toward them. “And don’t let them see that we have revolvers, unless I give the word.”

The man who had done all the talking before was in the lead, and as soon as he came near enough for the boys to see his face clearly, it was evident that his temper had not improved.

“You no go back, non?” he snapped.

“It would be useless to deny it,” Bob answered with a smile, which seemed to madden the man still more.

“You know me, oui?” he asked.

Bob looked at the man closely for a full minute before speaking.

“No. I don’t remember that I ever saw you before to-day.”

“My name Jacques Harbaugh.”

“Well?”
151

“You know mine broder, Pierre, oui.”

It was a statement rather than a question.

“I have met him, yes.”

“And you send heem to jail, you an’ dat oder kid dar.”

“Not guilty. He went to prison because he was smuggling whiskey.”

“But you catch heem.”

“I don’t deny that we were instrumental in having him arrested,” Bob replied firmly.

“An’ you beeg sneak.”

“As you please about that. We all have a right to our opinion.”

“Me Jacques Harbaugh. Me beeg fighter. No mans ever leek me.”

“Interesting, if true,” Bob smiled.

“Me geeve you one beeg licking, oui.”

“That’s as may be,” Bob shrugged his shoulders.

“Me show you ver’ queek.”

“One moment,” Bob held up his hand and the man stopped. “We are all armed and know how to protect ourselves. But we don’t want any more trouble than is absolutely necessary. So if you must have a fight I’ll fight you on the condition that the others keep hands off. How about it?”
152

The big half-breed looked at Bob, as Jack afterward declared, in much the same way that Goliath must have looked at David when the latter came out with his little sling. He stepped back and spoke with his companions for a moment and Bob could see that they were laughing as though at a huge joke.

“All right. We fight. Them no touch.”

“Will they keep their word?” Rex whispered to Jack.

“No telling.”

“Can Bob handle that big brute?”

“I’ve seen him handle as big a proposition and get away with it, but you never can tell. If this guy happens to know much about boxing, it’ll go hard, but, as he said, not many of them do.”

Meanwhile Bob and the half-breed had been stripping off their coats.

“Me spoil dat face in one leetle minute,” Jacques taunted, as he stepped forward.

“Well, it’s all ready for the spoiling,” Bob laughed in a way that seemed to exasperate the half-breed, for he suddenly sprang forward and aimed a vicious blow at Bob’s face.

So sudden was the movement that it all but caught the boy off his guard and he felt the wind as the man’s fist shot by within an inch of his nose. The man recovered his balance before Bob had time to get in a blow.

“Nearly got me the first time,” he declared with a smile.
153

“For goodness sake be careful,” Jack cautioned.

He, as well as Bob, knew that should one of those sledge-hammer blows land where it was aimed the fight would stop automatically. The continuance depended on Bob’s ability to dodge them.

But he was on his guard now and Jack knew that he would not be caught napping a second time. The man rushed again, almost at once and, from the way he handled himself, Jack saw that he possessed little if any knowledge of scientific boxing.

“Bob can handle him all right, barring an accident,” he whispered to Rex.

This time the man had struck with even more force than at first, and the momentum carried him off his balance. Before he could recover, Bob’s right fist had landed just back of his right ear. A loud grunt, more of astonishment than of pain, followed the blow. The bully stepped back a pace and glanced at his followers as if to ask what it was all about.

“Go on an’ beat heem up,” cried one of them. “Heem’s only a kid.”

As if ashamed of his indecision the man rushed back to the attack, and for a time Bob had all he could to do to protect himself from the avalanche of blows which were showered at him. The man’s two arms were working like piston rods, and so rapidly that the boy had no time to even attempt to get in a blow.
154

“Hope he won’t be able to keep that up very long,” Jack whispered. “In that kind of fighting there’s always a possibility of a blow landing and one of those punches, if it is struck fair, would pretty near stop a train of cars.”

“Him not got heap much wind,” Kernertok declared, as he caught the sound of the man’s quick breathing.

“Why you no heet heem?” one of the other breeds shouted.

The man paused an instant.

“Why you no stand still an’ fight?” he sneered.

“This suits me,” Bob laughed. “Remember this is your fight.”

Again the man rushed and once more he had his hands full to protect himself. But he knew that the harder the man worked the sooner would come the time when he could force the fighting. “Safety first,” he thought, as he dodged about.

“Bob’s tiring him out,” Jack whispered, as he listened to the heavy breathing.

But the next second he gave a gasp of fear. In backing away from a vicious rush Bob’s heel had struck a root, and before he could recover his balance, a blow had caught him on the chin and over he went.

A shout of encouragement came from the two half-breeds.
155

“Bon boy, Jacques! Jump on heem queek. You got heem.”

But fortunately Bob’s chin had been too far away to catch more than a small fraction of the force of the blow, and he was not even dazed. However, the breed was quick to take advantage of his opportunity, and before Bob could scramble to his feet he was upon him.

Bob knew that his only chance now depended on his ability to prevent the man from getting a hold. It required quick work, for the breed proved to be better at wrestling than at boxing. Throwing himself upon the boy he wrapped his arms about him in a hold that Bob had all he could do to break. It was fortunate indeed for him that he knew nearly all the important holds. Once the man got a grip on his neck, but it was quickly broken and, exerting all his strength and skill, Bob managed to roll the man over until he was on top. In another second he was on his feet.

“Good boy, Bob!” Jack shouted, jumping about in his excitement.

“Heap some boy,” Kernertok grunted.

“I’ll say he is,” Rex agreed.
156

The breed, angered anew at the failure of his attempt, got more slowly to his feet, and for a moment stood scowling at Bob. He was breathing hard, and it was evident to the boy that he was not in the best of physical condition. The easy life of the summer had softened his muscles, and twenty or more pounds of surplus fat had shortened his wind.

“Me geet you this time,” he shouted, as he started toward him.

Evidently realizing that he was not in Bob’s class when it came to boxing, he had decided to change his tactics and made a lunge at him with outstretched arms. Bob had little difficulty in eluding the grasp, and succeeded in placing a stiff punch on his nose. The breed started back with a grunt of pain and surprise, as the red blood gushed from his nostrils.

“First blood for Bob!” Jack shouted.

“Me keel you for dat,” the man shouted, now maddened beyond control.

“Look out for his foot!” Jack shouted.

But Bob was on the watch for just that move, and as the breed kicked, he stepped back and caught the foot as it was at its highest point. The man fell on his back, the wind knocked entirely out of his body.

At that moment one of the other breeds stepped forward.

“You keep out of this,” Jack said sternly, as he drew his automatic from his pocket.

On seeing the gun the breed stepped quickly back.

“This was to be a fair fight with no interference,” Jack told him.
157

For a minute or two the fighter lay writhing on the ground in an effort to regain his breath. As he struggled to his feet a look of astonishment mingled with one of fear was on his face. He could not understand why Bob had not finished him when he had him helpless.

“Had enough?” Bob asked pleasantly.

The man glanced at his companions and then at the automatic in Jack’s hand.

“I’ll put the gun back,” Jack said quickly, as he caught the glance. “There will be no use made of it so long as your friends play fair.”

“How about it?” Bob asked again.

The man still hesitated.

“Take your time. I’m in no hurry.”

But the fall had knocked the fight as well as the wind out of the bully, and muttering something which the boys failed to catch, he slouched off toward his canoe, followed by the other two.

“Did he hurt you any?” Jack asked anxiously, as soon as they were out of hearing.

“Nary a scratch,” Bob laughed, as he drew on his coat.

“Well, you’ve got about the biggest nerve I ever saw,” Rex declared, as he held out his hand.
158

“It’s not so much nerve as you think,” Bob explained. “You see, these fellows don’t know how to use their strength when it comes to fighting along scientific lines. Most all of them rely entirely on their strength, and a fellow who knows the rules can handle them easily enough.”

“It listens good the way you say it,” Rex declared, shaking his head, “but excuse me, and I know a little about boxing myself.”

“You could handle one of them,” Bob assured him, but Rex again shook his head.

“Just the same I hope we’ve seen the last of them,” he said, as he watched the three men shove off their canoe and paddle slowly away up the river.

“That is a consummation devoutly to be desired,” Bob said slowly, “but I’m very much afraid that—”

“That the consummation won’t be consummated,” Jack interrupted.

“Don’t you know that it is very impolite for small boys to interrupt their elders,” Bob turned to his brother with a look of mock severity on his face. “How many times have I told you that children should be seen and not heard?”

“You mean you think they’ll come back?” Rex asked anxiously.

“Mebby,” Bob nodded.

“To-night?”

“Quien Sabe?”
159

“Seems to me there are several loose ends to this problem,” Jack declared some time later, as supper, having been finished, they sat around the camp fire.

“Meaning?” Rex asked.

“Well, in the first place we’re not at all sure that the guy we’re after is within a thousand miles of here. Then there’s that funny business of the big tracks, the likes of which no mortal man ever saw before, and the stealing of the rifle. And now those breeds are to be reckoned with. The big question is whether they just happened to meet us or had been after us.”

“Is that all?” Bob smiled.

“I should think that was enough.”

“Mebby.”

“Mebby what?” Jack asked.

“Oh, just mebby,” Bob laughed.

“Well, it seems that eternal vigilance is the price of safety up here on this trip, so I suppose it means that we keep watch again to-night, eh?” Rex asked, as he threw more wood on the fire.

“Right you are, son,” Bob replied.

But the night passed without incident, so far as they were aware. Again they watched by twos, but in spite of all their care the now familiar tracks were once more to be seen on the bank of the river in the morning.

“What-do-you-know-about-that?” Jack asked, as he gazed at the imprints. “I’d take my oath that nothing moved round here while I was on watch.”
160

“How’s Sicum?” Bob turned to the Indian as he asked the question.

“Sicum, him big fool dog yet.”

“But he’s getting better, isn’t he?”

“Some, but heap slow.”

“Suppose he’d track that thing?”

Kernertok shook his head: “We try um. Here, Sicum, you smell um track.”

But the dog only whined, and with his tail between his legs, slunk away from the tracks.

“Never mind, old fellow. We understand that it isn’t your fault,” and Bob, kneeling down, took the dog’s head between his hands and looked into his eyes.

The dog whined and eagerly licked his hand, as if fully appreciating the sympathy.

“He’ll come around in time,” Bob assured them. “Remember, he saved our lives once,” he added with a glance toward Jack.

“And he deserves our thanks and care if he never does another thing so long as he lives,” Jack declared, but Kernertok only shook his head sadly.

It was midafternoon when Rex, who at the time, was paddling in the bow, lifted his paddle and asked:

“What’s that roaring noise?”

“Him heap big falls,” Kernertok replied.

“Can we shoot them?”

“No. Have mak’ carry.”
161

The boys noticed that for some time the current had been growing swifter as the river narrowed. The banks on either side were very steep and from ten to thirty feet high.

“We land right round this curve,” Kernertok told them, as they approached a sharp bend in the river. “No other place before falls.”

“Which side?” Rex shouted.

“Right.”

As the canoe swept around the bend it was traveling at a speed of some fifteen miles or more an hour. The roar of the falls could now be plainly heard. Rex caught sight of the landing place, a narrow strip of sand between two large rocks, and dug his paddle into the water to turn the bow toward it. How it happened, he could never tell, but the paddle slipped from his hands just as he had the canoe headed for the shore. He made a frantic effort to recover it, nearly upsetting the boat, but the swift water whirled it away.

So quickly did it happen that the canoe swung around parallel with the shore before Jack, who was in the stern, realized what had happened.

“Dig into her, Jack boy,” Bob shouted.

But even as he spoke they all heard a loud snap above the rush of the water. Bob turned his head, his heart in his throat. Jack’s face was as white as chalk, as he held up the end of the broken paddle.
162

“God help us!” Bob groaned.

The canoe w............