ld begin to pile up in a heap in a minute. The foreman leaped to
another log, turning as he did so to face the shore. That was when Uncle
Henry declared him wrong.

Turner was swinging his free arm, and above the roar of the river
and the thunder of the grinding and smashing logs they could hear him
shouting for somebody to bring him an axe. One of his men leaped to
obey. Nan and Mr. Sherwood did not notice just then who this second man
was who put himself in jeopardy, for both had their gaze on the foreman
and that which menaced him.

Shooting across on a slant was a huge log, all of three feet through at
the butt, and it was aimed for the timber on which Turner stood. He did
not see it. Smaller logs were already piling against the timber he had
left, and had he leaped back to the stranded one he would have been
comparatively safe.

Mr. Sherwood was quick to act in such an emergency as this; but he was
too far from the spot to give practical aid in saving Turner from the
result of his own heedlessness. He made a horn of his two hands and
shouted to the foreguard at the foot of the bluff:

"He's going into the water! Launch Fred Durgin's boat below the bend!
Get her! Quick, there!"

Old riverman that he was, Uncle Henry was pretty sure of what was about
to happen. The huge log came tearing on, butt first, a wave of troubled
water split by its on-rush. Turner was watching the person bringing him
the axe, and never once threw a glance over his shoulder.

Suddenly Nan cried out and seized Uncle Henry's arm. "Look! Oh, Uncle!
It's Rafe!" she gasped, pointing.

"Aye, I know it," said her uncle, wonderfully cool, Nan thought, and
casting a single glance at the figure flying over the bucking logs
toward the endangered foreman. "He'll do what he can."

Nan could not take her eyes from her cousin after that. It seemed to
be a race between Rafe and the charging log, to see which should first
reach the foreman. Rafe, reckless and harebrained as he was, flew over
the logs as sure-footed as a goat. Nan felt faint. Her cousin's peril
seemed far greater to her than that of the foreman.

A step might plunge Rafe into the foaming stream! When a log rolled
under him she cried out under her breath and clamped her teeth down on
to her lower lip until the blood almost came.

"He'll be killed! He'll be killed!" she kept repeating in her own mind.
But Uncle Henry stood like a rock and seemingly gave no more attention
to his son th