and clapped it over Freckles' mouth,
while Black Jack twisted the boy's arms behind him and they rushed him
into his room. Almost before he realized that anything had happened, he
was trussed to a tree and securely gagged.

Then three of the men resumed work on the tree. The other followed
the path Freckles had worn to Little Chicken's tree, and presently
he reported that the wires were down and two teams with the loading
apparatus coming to take out the timber. All the time the saw was slowly
eating, eating into the big tree.

Wessner went to the trail and removed the wire. He picked up Freckles'
wheel, that did not seem to be injured, and leaned it against the bushes
so that if anyone did pass on the trail he would not see it doubled in
the swamp-grass.

Then he came and stood in front of Freckles and laughed in devilish
hate. To his own amazement, Freckles found himself looking fear in the
face, and marveled that he was not afraid. Four to one! The tree halfway
eaten through, the wagons coming up the inside road--he, bound and
gagged! The men with Black Jack and Wessner had belonged to McLean's
gang when last he had heard of them, but who those coming with the
wagons might be he could not guess.

If they secured that tree, McLean lost its value, lost his wager, and
lost his faith in him. The words of the Angel hammered in his ears. "Oh,
Freckles, do watch closely!"

The saw worked steadily.

When the tree was down and loaded, what would they do? Pull out, and
leave him there to report them? It was not to be hoped for. The place
always had been lawless. It could mean but one thing.

A mist swept before his eyes, while his head swam. Was it only last
night that he had worshiped the Angel in a delirium of happiness? And
now, what? Wessner, released from a turn at the saw, walked to the
flower bed, and tearing up a handful of rare ferns by the roots, started
toward Freckles. His intention was obvious. Black Jack stopped him, with
an oath.

"You see here, Dutchy," he bawled, "mebby you think you'll wash his face
with that, but you won't. A contract's a contract. We agreed to take out
these trees and leave him for you to dispose of whatever way you please,
provided you shut him up eternally on this deal. But I'll not see a tied
man tormented by a fellow that he can lick up the ground with, loose,
and that's flat. It raises my gorge to think what he'll get when we're
gone, but you needn't think you're free to begi