ndicated the hovering near of
some great danger. "Isn't there a window in the cabin? Can't you climb
out of it?" he shouted desperately. Inwardly he marveled that stalwart
Tom Gray should be caught in such a trap.

"There are two windows, or rather holes in the cabin, but they are too
high up. I can't reach them. My leg was broken and it's not strong
enough yet to risk such a climb." This response was made in despairing
tones.

At the mention of windows, Jean had begun to circle the cabin. Turning
his flashlight on the strong-timbered walls of the hut, he soon made out
one of those windows. "M'sieu' David," he called, "come. You will lif'
me an' I will clim' in this hole. Then we 'urry an' get M'sieu' Tom out,
mebbe." Jean's "mebbe" indicated uncertainty. The situation did not look
hopeful and there was evidently no time for questions regarding the how,
when and why of the affair.

Helped by David, Jean's sinewy fingers soon clutched the lower part of
the primitive window. Being thin and wiry, he had no difficulty in
drawing himself up to it. With the skill of an acrobat he swung one leg
over the opening. The task of drawing himself through was much harder to
accomplish. But the will to do so was paramount. Emitting a jubilant
shout of accomplishment, he dropped, landing lightly on the cabin floor.

Before he could bring his searchlight into play, an indistinct form had
seized him in a feeble but affectionate grip. "Jean--good--old Jean!"
Tom's broken utterance held a sob of relief and thankfulness.

"Oh, M'sieu' Tom," Jean's own voice overran with emotion, "is it of a
truth that we hav' fin' you at las'?" Tears of joy were rolling down his
weather-beaten cheeks, as he added with sublime faith, "_Le bon Dieu_
hav' hear!"

In the overwhelming joy of reunion all else was for the moment
forgotten. David's stentorian tones asking, "Are you all right, Jean?"
brought back swift realization of the situation. "Can't you manage
between the two of you to do something to that door? I'll help all I can
from this side."

"Yes; all right," returned Jean. Then to Tom: "Hav' you not then the
axe, to chop him into splinter'? This very queer way to fin' you,
M'sieu' Tom. But now we not stop to ask question, we 'urry, get you out.
Go 'way an' then talk. It is to see that you are the prisoner."

"Prisoner!" Tom's exclamation vibrated with bitterness. "You can't
believe what I've been through. You're right about hurrying to get me