flash of light. Presently Goodine cried out,--

"Why don't yer _fight_, like a man, stidder skippin' out o' the road
like a flea?"

"'Cause I don't want to hurt you," laughed Reddin.

But that little boastful laugh delayed his movements, and Goodine was
upon him. Two or three terrible short-arm blows were exchanged, and then
the two men grappled.

"Let 'em be," ordered McElvey. "They'd better wrastle than fight."

For a second or two, nay, for perhaps a whole minute, it looked to the
spectators as if Reddin must be crushed helpless in Bill's tremendous
embrace. Then it began to dawn on them that Reddin had captured the more
deadly hold. Then the dim rumors of Reddin's marvellous strength began
to gather credence, as it was seen how his grip seemed to dominate that
of his great opponent.

For several minutes the straining antagonists swayed about the ring.
Then suddenly Reddin straightened himself, and Bill's hold slipped for
an instant. Before he could recover it Reddin had stooped, secured a
lower grip, and in a moment hurled his adversary clear over his
shoulder. A roar of applause went up from the spectators; and Goodine,
after trying to rise, lay still and groaned, "I'm licked, Jim. I've had
enough."

The boss soon pronounced that Bill's shoulder was dislocated, and that
he'd have to go back to the settlements to be doctored. This being the
case, Laurette said to him benevolently, after her horse was harnessed
to the pung, "I'm sorry I can't ask you to drive me home, though you
_did_ cut out the logs, Bill. But I reckon it'll be the next best thing
fur you if _I_ drive _you_ home. An' Jim Reddin'll come along, maybe, to
kind of look after the both of us."

To which proposition poor Bill grinned a rather ghastly assent.

An Experience of Jabez Batterpole.

One February afternoon a tremendous snow-storm was raging about the camp
on the Upper Keswick. The air was so thick with driving flakes that one
could scarcely see five feet ahead of him. It fell dark in the woods by
the middle of the afternoon, and the chopping and the hauling came to an
end. Lamps were soon lighted in camp, and the lumbermen, in their
steaming homespuns, gathered about the roaring stove to sing, smoke,
swap yarns and munch gingerbread. The wind screamed round the gables of
the camp, rattled at the door and windows, and roared among the
tree-tops like the breaking of great waves on an angry coast. From the
stables close by cam