slapped the boy in the face, and as instantly as a reflex action
Angus lashed back with a blow clean and swift as the kick of a colt, and
nearly as powerful.

The logger recovered from his surprise, and with a roar sprang and
caught him. Strong for a boy, Angus was as yet no match for such an
adversary. The weight of the man, apart from fighting experience, made
the issue undoubted. But suddenly the Swede was twisted, wrenched loose,
and sent staggering ten feet. Straight down the length of the room the
big tie-maker shot, landing with a terrific crash, and lay groaning.

"Let the kid alone!" a deep voice commanded.

Angus' rescuer was Gavin French, the eldest of the brothers. The largest
of a family of big men, Gavin stood three inches over six feet in his
stockings, and tapered from shoulders to heels. He was long of limb,
long of sinew, and so beautifully built that at first sight his real
bulk and weight were not apparent. His hair, reddish gold, was so wavy
that it almost curled, his eye a clear blue, but as hard as newly-cut
ice. He nodded to Angus.

"All right, Mackay; I won't let him hurt you."

Gavin French surveyed his handiwork with cold satisfaction.

"Give the boys a drink," he said. And when the drink had been disposed
of he walked out without a second glance at his late adversary who was
sitting up. Angus followed him.

"Thanks for handling him," he said. "He was too strong for me."

The cold blue eyes rested on him appraisingly.

"You'll be all right when you're older. Better keep out of trouble till
then."

"He struck me," Angus said, "and no man will ever do that without
getting back the best I have, no matter how big he is. That was my
father's way."

Gavin French made no reply. He nodded, and turning abruptly left Angus
alone.

This episode, trivial in itself, gave Angus food for thought. For long
months the sight of the big Swede hurtling through the air was before
his eyes, and he admired and envied the mighty strength of Gavin French.
By contrast his own seemed puny, insignificant. He set himself
deliberately to increase it.

The second fall after Adam Mackay's death the school which Jean and
Turkey attended had a new teacher. Jean fell in love with her from the
start, and even Turkey, who had regarded teachers as his natural
enemies, was inclined to make an exception. Jean brought this paragon to
the ranch over Sunday. Alice Page was a clear-eyed young woman of
twenty-four, brown