m the danger spot they went, round the bend to the footpath,
along the trail for fifty yards. Then the horse stopped. "Come on here!
Get up!" urged the big foreman, as he strained at the coat sleeve. But
the horse stood perfectly still, and refused to be coaxed further. "I'll
bet Jack o' Lantern is around here somewhere. Jack o'--oh, Jack o'!" he
shouted, for Tom Moran's throat was choked. He could not call the boy's
name.

"Jack o' Lantern--where are you?" reiterated Alick Duncan. But there was
no reply.

Meanwhile "Old Mack" had been snooping around the hollows at one side of
the trail, and Jacky's father was peering about the ledges opposite.
Presently he stopped, leaned over, and with love-sharpened eyesight, saw
a little, dark heap far below lying in the snow. "There's something
here, boys," he called brokenly.

Alick Duncan sprang to the ledge, looked over, made a strange sound with
his throat, and with an icy fear in his great heart, that never had
known fear before, he laid his big hand on Tom Moran's shoulder and
said, "Stay here, Tom. I'll go. It will be better for _me_ to go." And
slipping over the ledge, he dropped down beside the unconscious boy.
In another minute he was rubbing the cold hands, rousing the dormant
senses. Presently Jacky spoke, and with a shout of delight the big
foreman lifted the boy in his huge arms, and, struggling up the uneven
ledge, he shouted, "He's all O.K., Tom--just kind of laid out, but
still in the fight."

With the familiar voice in his ears, Jacky's senses returned, for,
lifting his head, he cried, "Oh, Mr. Duncan, did Grey-Boy take the
lantern to the danger-spot?"

"Bet your boots he did, son," said Tom Moran, stretching down his arms
to help the big foreman lift his burden. "We found him standing still
and firm as a flag pole, with that light hoisted under his chin."

"Thank goodness!" sighed the boy. "Oh, I was _so_ afraid he'd go home
with it, instead of to the river." Then, with a little gasp, "Mr.
Duncan, I told you once Grey had as much sense as a man. He saved you."

"No, Jack o' Lantern," said the big foreman gently, as he wrapped his
great coat around the half-frozen boy, "no, siree, it was you, and your
quick wits, that did it. Old Grey got the lantern habit, but it would
have done no good had you not had sense enough to sling the light around
his neck; and you leaving yourself to freeze here without a coat--bless
you, youngster! The mill hands and this big