ood trickled from his
cut lips and the swollen veins rose on his forehead. This, however,
was going further than the others considered admissible, and there was
a protesting shout, while one sturdy fellow cautiously slid along the
wall to get in behind the man who had the axe.

Still, for a second or two, which might have proved fatal to him,
Nasmyth had only his own resources to depend upon, and he did the one
thing that was possible. The Canadian axe-haft is long, and he sprang
straight in at the man. As he did so, the big blade came down, and
flashed by a hand's breadth behind his shoulders. He felt a burning
pain on the outside of his thigh, but that did not seem to matter, and
he was clutching at his opponent's throat when he was bodily flung
aside. Then, as he fell against the log wall, he had a momentary
glimpse of Jake bent backwards in Mattawa's arms. There was a brief
floundering scuffle as the two men reeled towards the black opening in
the wall, and after that a splash in the darkness outside, and Mattawa
stepped back into the room alone.

"The d---- hog is in the flume," he said.

That did not appear to trouble any of the others. The sluice was not
deep, and, though it was certainly running hard, it was scarcely
likely that a stalwart Bushman would suffer greatly from being washed
along it.

"Guess it will cool him off," said one of them. "If it doesn't, and he
comes back to make a fuss, we'll heave him in again."

Then they turned and looked at Nasmyth, who sat down somewhat limply
on a cider keg. The blood, which was running down his leg, made a
little pool at his feet. Mattawa, who crossed over to him, asked for a
knife, and when a man produced one, he slit Nasmyth's trousers up to
the hip. Then he nodded.

"Boys," he said, "one of you will slip out kind of quiet and bring Mr.
Gordon along. Two more of you will stand in the door there and not let
anybody in."

They obeyed him, and Mattawa looked down at Nasmyth again.

"I guess the thing's not serious," he commented.

"Well," said Nasmyth ruefully, "in one way, I think it is. You see,
store clothes are dear, and this is the only pair of trousers I've
got."

There was a little laugh from the others, and he knew he had done
wisely, when they clumsily expressed their satisfaction at his escape.
He had, at least, discredited Jake, and it was evident that if the man
made any more assertions of a similar nature, which was very unlikely,
no one wo