me at the moment, so I stayed quiet, making pretence
that the unconsciousness was still upon me, whenever any of them turned
in my direction.

Through my half-opened eyelids, I fancied I recognised the leader of
the crowd as a black-haired, beady-eyed, surly dog of a logger who had
come in several times from Camp No. 2 to help with the taking up of
their supplies,--but of his identity I was not quite certain.

As my scattered senses began to collect, I hoped against hope that
these men would keep up their drinking bout until not one of them would
be able to stand. But, while they drank long and drank deeply, they
were too wise by far to overdo it.

Then I got to wondering what they were badgering old Jake about, for I
could hear him growl and curse, his gag having fallen to the floor.

"Go to hell and take the trunk, the booze and the whole caboose with
you, if you want to. I don't want none of it. I ain't hoggin' booze
any more."

"Ho, ho! Hear that," yelled the big, black-haired individual, "he
ain't boozin'! The old swiller ain't boozin' and him keeps a keg o'
whisky under his nose.

"Ain't boozin' with common ginks like us,--that's what he means.

"Come on! We'll show him whether he ain't boozin' or not."

He got a cupful of the raw spirits and stuck it to Jake's mouth. But
Jake shook his head.

"Come on! Drink it up or I'll sling it down your gullet."

Still Jake refused.

Then my blood ran cold, and boiled again. The veins stood out on my
forehead with rage.

The foul-mouthed creature hit my old helper full across the mouth and a
trickle of blood immediately began to flow down over Jake's chin.

I struggled silently with my ropes, but they were taut and merely cut
into my flesh. But I made the discovery then, that my captors had
failed to take into account that the bed to which they had tied me had
been put up by Jake and, at that, not any too securely.

I felt that if I threw all my weight away from the stanchion to which I
was bound, I might be able to pull the whole thing out bodily. But I
knew that this was not the moment for such an attempt.

They were five men to one; they had sticks and clubs, maybe revolvers,
so what chance would I have?

I decided to bear with the goading of Jake as long as it were possible.

"Guess you'll drink it now,--you old, white-livered miser," cried the
dark man.

He dashed some of the liquor in Jake's face. Jake opened his mouth and
gasped. Th