strong, Dic was by no means the equal of Doug in the matter of
bulk, and in a grappling match Doug could soon have killed him. Dic
fully understood this, and, being more active than his huge foe,
endeavored to keep him at arm's length. In this he was successful for a
time; but at last the grapple came, and both men fell to the
ground--Doug Hill on top. Poor Rita was in a frenzy of terror. She could
not even scream. She could only press her hands to her heart and look.
When Dic and Doug fell to the ground, Patsy Clark, believing himself
safe, rose to a sitting posture, and Doug cried out to him:--

"Give me your knife, Patsy, give me your knife." Patsy at once responded
by placing his hunting-knife in Doug's left hand. Dic saw his imminent
danger and with his right hand clasped Doug's left wrist in a grasp
that could not be loosened. After several futile attempts to free his
wrist, Doug tossed the knife over to his right side. It fell a few
inches beyond his reach, and he tried to grasp it. Rita saw that very
soon he would reach the knife, and Dic's peril brought back her presence
of mind. Doug put forth terrific efforts to reach the knife, and,
despite Dic's resistance, soon had it in his grasp. In getting the
knife, however, Doug gave Dic an opportunity to throw him off, and he
did so, quickly springing to his feet. Doug was on his feet in a
twinkling, and rushed upon Dic with uplifted knife. Dic knew that he
could not withstand the rush, and thought his hour had come; but the
sharp crack of a rifle broke the forest silence, and the knife fell from
Doug's nerveless hand, his knees shook under him, his form quivered
spasmodically for a moment, and he plunged forward on his face. Dic
turned and saw Rita standing back of him, holding Doug's rifle to her
shoulder, a tiny curl of blue smoke issuing from the barrel. The girl's
face turned pale, the gun fell from her hands, her eyes closed, and she
would have fallen had not Dic caught her in his arms. He did not so much
as glance at Doug, but at once carried the unconscious Rita home with
all the speed he could make.

"Now for goodness' sake, what has she been doing?" cried Mrs. Bays, as
Dic entered the front door with his almost lifeless burden. "That girl
will be the death of me yet."

"She has fainted," replied Dic, "and I fear she's dead."

With a wild scream Mrs. Bays snatched Rita from Dic's arms in a frenzy
of grief that bore a touch of jealousy. In health and happi