Tug's relief found an echo in the sigh that escaped his companions. The
intended victim had promptly swung his body clear and the threatened
injury was averted. But his retaliation was instant. His great open hand
spread over the man's face, smothering it; and it seemed the sought-for
goal had been reached.

"Gouge! Gouge!"

The cry roared in hoarse, excited tones from every direction. Unanimity
displayed the general feeling. The man whose face had been smothered was
Arden Laval, the camp boss, the man they hated as only forest-men can
hate. The other was a giant youngster, not long a member of the camp,
the usual object for victimisation by such a man as the French Canadian
boss.

The demand remained unsatisfied. The fingers remained spread out over
the man's eyes, but the foul act was never perpetrated. The younger
man's efforts were directed towards a deeper, more significant purpose,
and perhaps less cruel. He could have blinded in a twinkling. But he
refrained. Instead, he pressed up mightily with a fore-arm crooked under
the back of the man's neck, his smothering hand pressed down with all
his enormous strength.

"The darn fool! Why in hell don't he--?"

Abe was interrupted by the excited voice of the man with the cant-hook.

"God A'mighty!" Tug cried. "Do you get it? Gouge? It ain't good enough
fer Master Bull. He's playin' bigger. He's playin' fer dollars while we
was reck'nin' cents. Look! It'll crack sure! His gorl-darn neck! He
means--!"

"To kill!"

Luke Gat's jubilation was dreadful to witness. His hard, be-whiskered
features were alight with fiendish joy. This youngster had gone beyond
all expectations. No less than the life of the greatest bully in the
lumber world would satisfy him.

"Say, the nerve! He'll break the life out o' the skunk," he exulted.
"The kid means crackin' his neck, sure as God!"

"Ken he do it?" Tug had thrust forward.

"Laval ain't the feller he was," mused Abe. "He shouldn't a let the boy
get that holt. It's goin' back. It certainly is."

The men stood hushed before the terrible significance of what they
beheld. In the abstract, a life-and-death struggle meant little enough
to them. Witnessing it, however, violently stirred their deepest
emotions. They hated the camp boss, the libertine, drunkard, bully,
Arden Laval, who only held his position by reason of his fighting
powers. They would be infinitely pleased to witness his end. All the
more sure was their delight