Bill Broome so I can judge."

Meanwhile the two friends were making straight for the noise of the
fracas, and when they had gone about two hundred yards they were
surprised by the dash of a big, gaunt, snarling yellow hound, who made a
leap for Jim with teeth wide spread. Now James was unarmed, not his
usual practice, but he was not in the habit of taking lunch at a
restaurant armed to the teeth so that when this chase started he was not
armed, else the venture would have come to an end long ago.

However, he did have his long, sharp-edged poniard with him. This he
could carry inconspicuously in a belt around his waist. He slipped it
from its sheath and met the charge of the hound squarely on his bent
knee. He was bent back by the fury of the hound's rush, but he got in a
thrust with a deadly precision that left the dog done for on the ground.

The engineer was not so lucky as Jim, he had no weapon of any kind and a
small limb of a tree that he had hurriedly picked up proved no defense
against the attack of a huge black brute, true of mongrel breed, but
none the less ugly. He had knocked prostrate the engineer, who was not a
large man, and was raving for his throat with cruel jaws, being held off
for the moment only, by Berwick's clever use of the stick he had
retained in his clutch when felled.

Jim was quick to see his friend's need. He dared not waste one single
second, but with a low rush, he grappled with the brute, and by a sudden
surge of his really great strength he thrust the beast to one side and
for a moment they struggled fiercely on even terms, Jim's hand gripping
the animal's throat, while the red, dripping jaws were striving to close
on Jim's shoulder.

Exerting all his strength he managed to twist the beast off his balance
and before it could recover had sent the death thrust home. The rest of
the pack of smaller dogs evidently did not dare to come on and for a
moment Jim rested panting, covered with sweat and blood.

"You certainly saved my neck that time, Jim," acknowledged John Berwick.
"I guess it is hanging I'm reserved for."

"If you are ready we will move on; I'm afraid that trail will get cold,"
said Jim.

"I'm with you," declared the engineer, "but I rather hope that we will
soon be out of these woods."

"Here's a little stream," remarked Jim, after they had gone a few yards,
"guess I had better remove the signs of the late murder."

"You can see where those fellows crossed," remarke