hine guns. They had
seen their men fall to the scythe-like mowing of a cruel weapon of
which its victims had no understanding. Then, when the machine guns had
been silenced, they had witnessed the rage with which these hard-living
jacks had meted out their ideas of just punishment upon the murderers of
their comrades.

The wanton inhumanity of the whole thing had sickened them both. Both
knew and were indifferent to the roughness of the fierce northland. But
the ordeal through which they had passed was something far beyond the
darkest vision of conflict they had ever contemplated.

Neither had been present to witness the shooting of Father Adam. But
both had been there within minutes of the beginning of the battle which
it had started. From the power house Bat had discovered the thing
happening, just as Bull had seen from the window of his office the
leaping flames which had threatened the mill. It had been largely due to
their timely leadership that ultimate victory had been snatched. But the
work of it had been terrible.

Now they had returned to their quarters, their night's work completed.
Down below comrade was attending to comrade in such fashion as lay to
hand, and those beyond earthly aid were being disposed to their last
rest. Thus these men had been left free to succour the wounded creature
whose timely lead had made possible the defeat that had been inflicted.

Bat had but one concern just now. Father Adam. The man whose secret he
held. The man who counted for everything in his rugged life. He raised
his blood-shot eyes to his companion's face.

"If--Father Adam--passes, I'm done with Sachigo, Bull," he declared
almost desperately. "It 'ud break me to death. You can't know the thing
that feller means to me. You know him for the sort of missioner all
these folks guess he is. That's how he'd have you know him. And it goes
with me all the time. But I know him just as he is."

Bull nodded. He made no reply. He knew the lumberman was well-nigh
beside himself, and he gazed back into the hot eyes and wondered.

But Bat had nothing more to say. He even felt he had said more than he
had any right to say. So he turned again to the window.

A few moments later the door communicating with the house was
unceremoniously thrust open. The two men looked round. It was a youngish
man dressed in the overalls of an engineer who hurried in. He was alert
and full of business; a condition which he seemed to appreciate.

"