an ax that lay handy and swung it round his head.
It came down with a crash on the plate, and the hash was scattered
over the withered redwood twigs. Then, while a growl expressive of
astonishment as well as anger went up, the chopper scraped up part of
the stew with red soil and fir twigs mixed in it.

"He has got to eat it, and then I'll tend to you. You'll see that they
don't get away, boys," he said.

Weston clearly had no intention of attempting to do so, and the cook
would have found it hopeless, for the rest closed round the stump in a
contracting ring. While they knew that Cassidy had been summoned to
Stirling's car, they were unaware that there were other spectators of
the little drama. Two young women had, however, just emerged from
among the towering firs that hemmed in the muskeg. One was attired
elaborately in light garments and a big hat that appeared very much
out of place in that aisle of tremendous forest, but there was a
difference between her and her companion. The latter knew the bush,
and was dressed simply in a close-fitting robe of gray. She held
herself well, and there was something that suggested quiet
imperiousness in her attitude and expression. This was, perhaps, not
altogether unnatural, for hitherto when Ida Stirling desired anything
that her father's money could obtain her wish was gratified. She laid
her hand warningly on her companion's arm, and drew her back into the
shadow of the firs.

"I really don't think we need go away," she said. "They won't notice
us, and you will probably see something that is supposed to be
characteristically western, though I'm not sure that it really is."

The meaning of the scene was tolerably plain to both of them. The
little cleared space formed a natural amphitheater walled in by somber
ranks of pines; and, standing higher, they could see over the heads of
the clustering men. There was no difficulty in identifying the victim,
the persecutor and the champion, for Weston stood stripped to blue
shirt and trousers, with the big ax in his hand and his head thrown
back a trifle, gazing with curiously steady eyes at the expectant
faces before him. Then as two or three of the men drew in closer he
raised his free hand.

"This thing lies between Jake and me, and I'm open to deal with him,"
he said. "Still, I've got the ax here if more of you stand in."

The man scarcely raised his voice, but it was clear that he was
quietly and dangerously resolute. Indee