d. Fred struck out at him with his bludgeon. The blow missed
the fellow's head, and fell on his arm. Down clattered the rifle,
discharging as it fell. The trapper made a frantic leap aside, and
disappeared into the bushes.

As Fred snatched up the rifle, he caught a glimpse of the third
trapper, the wiry half-breed, hastening up the path.

"Halt! Hands up!" shouted Horace, raising the repeater.

The man stopped, fired a wild shot, turned and bolted back toward the
landing. Fred and his brother rushed after him; they reached the
landing just in time to see him leap into the birch canoe, which still
held the fox cage, shove off, and digging his paddle furiously into the
water, shoot down the stream.

"After him! The canoe! Quick!" shouted Horace.

They dashed back. The man that Fred had struck was nowhere to be seen.
Macgregor had pinned his antagonist to the ground, and seemed to have
him well subdued.

"Never mind him, Mac!" Fred cried. "Pick up that canoe in a hurry!
One of the scoundrels has got away with the foxes!"

All three of them seized the canoe and rushed it down to the landing.
There they found the shore strewn with articles of camp outfit where
the men had unloaded the canoes.

"Load it in, boys!" cried Horace. "Take what we need. We're not
coming back."

They pitched an armful or two of supplies into the canoe. Fred's
shotgun was there, and several other articles that the boys recognized
as their own. The rest was a fair exchange for the outfit that they
had abandoned in their tent.

They shoved the canoe off. The half-breed had gained a long lead by
this time. He was nearly a quarter of a mile ahead, paddling
frantically; he did not even stop to fire at the boys. But there were
three paddles in pursuit, and the boys began to gain on him noticeably.
More than two miles flashed by, and then the roar of rapids sounded
ahead.

"Got him!" panted Mac. "He'll have to land now."

Round another bend shot the birch canoe, with the Peterboro three
hundred yards behind, and now the broken water came in sight. It was a
long, rock-staked chute, and the boys thought it would be suicidal to
try to run it. But the half-breed kept straight on in mid-channel.

"He's going to try to run through!" Horace cried. "He'll drown himself
and the foxes!"

The boys yelled at him; but the next instant the man's canoe had shot
into the broken water. For a moment they lost sight of him in a cloud