isk," added Brick. "Let it go."

"Don't worry about me," cried Hamp. "That's an easy jump. Don't you
fellows try to follow me, though."

Before his companions could prevent him, he dashed forward, rifle in
hand. He sped swiftly over the first stretch of ice. With an agile leap,
he cleared the gap of rushing water, and landed on firm ice beyond.

Suddenly Sparwick crashed through the fringe of bushes. He was attired
only in a red flannel shirt. His face was blue with cold, and his beard
was a frozen mass of icicles. He glared at the daring lad, and uttered a
hoarse cry. In one hand he held a great clod of frozen snow. He drew it
back and let fly.

The whole thing was so sudden that Hamp did not have time to lift or use
his rifle. The heavy missile struck him forcibly on the breast. He
reeled to one side and slipped on the smooth ice. With a piercing cry,
he plunged into the swift water.

Sparwick instantly vanished behind the bushes. Well for him that he did
so. Had he lingered but a moment Brick or Jerry would have shot him in
their wrath.

Finding the ruffian out of reach, the two boys turned their eyes
anxiously on the open channel.

Hamp's head and shoulders bobbed to the surface half-a-dozen feet below
where he had fallen in. He still retained his hold on the rifle. He made
a gallant struggle for life, and succeeded in reaching the rim of ice
nearest his companions. He threw the rifle forward, and clung tight.

"Help! help!" he cried. "I'm nearly played out, boys. I'll have to let
go."

But Brick and Jerry were prompt to the rescue. With great strides they
crossed the ice, and soon had Hamp safely beside them. They dragged him
over to the bank, and dropped him in a clump of bushes. He was blue and
speechless with cold.

"Bring the sleds here, Brick," cried Jerry. "Quick, while I make a fire.
Hamp must have dry clothes and blankets right away."

Brick dashed off at full speed. When he returned, a moment later, Jerry
had heaped up a pile of brush and twigs. Hamp was taking off his
dripping clothes as fast as his numbed fingers would allow.

Just as Jerry scraped a match, a crunching noise was heard back from the
stream. It grew nearer and louder. The boys stopped their occupations,
and glanced in the direction of the sound. A moment later the bushes
parted and two men emerged.

The foremost was an old acquaintance, Mr. Silas Raikes. His companion
was a sinister-looking fellow, with a heavy black beard