“There is a jam forming in the rapids below.”

It was near noon the following day when this information was brought up the river. As the rapids were not considered very dangerous, save near the east shore, it had been arranged to cut the raft in two sections and run it through. Now, however, on learning of the threatened jam, Forest immediately gave orders to get the raft up to the bank and make it fast.

During the night a lot of logs had gathered in the rapids near the eastern shore, where the rocks rose close to the surface. Had the collection been seen at the start a jam might have been prevented, but the messenger from down the river said it looked now as if there would be a jam, despite the efforts of the men.

“This will cause delay and expense, Merriwell,” said Fred Forest, “but it will give you and your friends an opportunity to witness the breaking of a real jam.”

“It’s an opportunity we will not miss,” declared Frank.

“Oh, I don’t know,” grunted Browning. “How far down the river is it?”

“Five miles.”

“How do we get there?”

“Walk.”

“Then I don’t believe I’ll go.”

And it proved useless to urge him.

[205]

The others, however, were ready enough to go, and soon they were on their way.

“I don’t miss dot!” declared the fat Dutch boy, as he puffed along with the others. “Dot jam peen goin’ to take a look at me. I pet dot jam can broke me uf id tried.”

“I think you have had quite enough experience as river driver,” laughed Frank. “You had better let some other person break the jam.”

“Possibly you do not know the danger of breaking a jam?” put in the young lumberman.

“How vos id done?”

“With dynamite, sometimes.”

“And der odder dimes?”

“With an ax.”

“Vale, I could use an ax.”

“The man who breaks a jam of logs with an ax stands about one chance in three of reaching the shore alive.”

“Py Chorch! I don’d toldt you dot!”

“And whole crews have been wiped out by the use of dynamite.”

“Vale, I don’d belief dot jam vill broke me!”

Forest spoke no more than the simple truth. Before dynamite was used, one man would go out on the front of a jam and cut the key log with an ax. The moment the log began to bend, the chopper made a dash for the shore. About once in three times he reached the shore unharmed, but the chances were against him. Many a good man has gone down under the logs, ground to a shapeless mass by the crashing timbers as they came[206] piling over each other, some of them whirling end over end.

In later years, as a rule, five or six men go out on the jam and cut a big hole into the heart of the tumbled timbers. Then a cartridge is inserted, the fuse lighted, and a scramble for safety follows. Men who have heard the old “rebel yell” in war timers declare the foreman’s cry of “Shore! Shore!” when uttered under a jam of logs, is the most terrifying sound their ears have ever heard.

Diamond was as eager as anybody to see a jam. He felt that the sight of a breaking jam would fully repay him for the trip down the river on the raft.

Hodge said nothing, but strode along with the others.

It was a hard tramp down the river, but they reached the jam before the men had been able to break it. In fact, it was afterward reported that Sullivan had acted exactly as if he had no desire to break it, but was anxious to have the logs pile up in as nasty a manner as possible.

There was a big mountain of logs on the eastern shore, and when Forest saw it he was angry, for more logs were coming down and blocking upon the others.

Between the end of the jam and the western bank the water poured with express speed.

“Why don’t you have the men keep those other logs from jamming in there, Sullivan?” demanded Forest. “They might be sent through the opening over yonder.”

“Where be ther men ter send them through?” growled the boss.

[207]

“You have plenty of men here, if you will place them right.”

“Mebby you know more about this than I do.”

“I don’t like your tone of voice, sir! Put the men out on the jam and have them fend the logs off as fast as they come down, running them round the end.”

“All right,” muttered Sullivan, and then he did as ordered.

For two hours the men worked like beavers, and, with the exception of a few logs, there was no great addition to the jam. At last, only an occasional stray log came down, and then Forest told Sullivan to prepare to break the jam.

“How be ye goin’ to do it?” asked the ugly foreman.

“With dynamite, of course.”

“We ain’t got no dynamite.”

“No dynamite? How is that?”

“Well, I didn’t expect another jam after gettin’ down this way, and so I ain’t prepared.”

Forest was thoroughly angry, and he gave Sullivan the “dressing down” that the man deserved, ending by ordering him to go out and break the jam with an ax.

Without a word, Sullivan went. He picked out a log and cut it in two. When it cracked, he dropped the ax and hustled ashore. But the jam did not give way.

The foreman swore.

“You cut the wrong log,” said Forest, grimly. “Try it again, and don’t lose an ax unless the jam breaks.”

So Sullivan went out again, but with no better success.

[208]

“I believe I could pick out the key log,” declared Frank Merriwell, who had been watching proceedings.

The foreman’s face grew purple, and he suppressed a torrent of angry words with an effort.

“We’ll have ter send to the nearest place fer dynamite,” he said. “That’s the only way ter do now.”

Then Forest gave orders for a man to be dispatched for the dynamite without delay.

The afternoon was slipping away, and it did not look as if the jam would be broken before dark. Forest was impatient at the delay.

“I’d like to try a crack at it,” said Frank,............