out. There's no time to be lost. No, there's neither an axe or a hatchet
here. He's too cunning for that. But in one corner of the room is a
heavy iron bar. It hasn't done me any good. I've been too weak to use
it. Is your rifle outside, Jean? If he should come back before we can
get away, you'll need it. Two sturdy men and one poor excuse like myself
couldn't handle him. He's the strongest fellow I ever saw." His voice
rising he called warning to David. "Keep a sharp watch, old man. If you
see or hear anyone coming, give us the signal."

"I'm on the job," floated back David's reassuring response.

"Show to me the bar," ordered Jean with the brevity of one whose mind is
set on swift action.

Without replying, Tom limped a straight course in the dark to a corner
of the one-room shack. "I've looked at that bar so often and so
longingly I could find my way to it if I were blind," he commented with
grim wistfulness. "There's not much else in the room, except a bench and
a bough bed."

Following at his heels, Jean used one hand to train his light on the
bar. Soon the other hand had fastened itself firmly around it. "He very
strong," was his terse observation. "If you will 'old the light, I try
him." Raising his voice he shouted, "M'sieu' David, we hav' foun' very
strong piec' iron. Now we try smash open the door. You stan' by, ready.
Then soon we go 'way from here with M'sieu' Tom."

Limping ahead of the old hunter, Tom flashed the searchlight directly on
the heavy door. "There's the door, Jean," he said, his tones thrilling
with new hope. "Wait a minute until I limp out of your way. I'm not
going to risk further accident. Now; go ahead and strike hard!"

Jean needed no second bidding. Resolutely gripping the bar, he raised it
on high and dealt the stubborn obstruction to Tom's freedom a
reverberating blow. Three times he brought it down upon the opposing
portal. Half a dozen more swings of the bar and splinters began to fly
from it.

Outside the shack, David Nesbit's eyes and ears were busy obeying Tom's
warning instructions. Whom Tom feared and why he was afraid, his chum
had not the remotest idea. Every crashing blow which Jean dealt the
door, sent a thrill of joy to David's heart. He would have liked to
shout his jubilation, but refrained for fear his friends within the
shack would misinterpret his loud rejoicing as a danger signal.

For at least fifteen minutes Jean continued to batter the door, resting
briefl