aning toward
Black Duncan, he roared at him above the din.

"Mr. Ross, Mr. Ross, it is no win! Listen to me!" he panted. "What are
two inches in a hundred and twenty feet? A stretching of the tape will
do it. No, no! Listen to me! You must listen to me as you are a man! I
will not have it! You can beat me easily in the throw! At best it is a
tie and nothing else will I have to-day. At least let us throw again!"
he pleaded. But to this Ross would not listen for a moment.

"The lad has made his win," he said to the judges, "and his win he must
have."

But Mack declared that nothing under heaven would make him change his
mind. Finally the judges, too, agreed that in view of the possibility of
a mistake in measuring with the tape, it would be only right and fair
to count the result a tie. Black Duncan listened respectfully to the
judges' decision.

"You are asking me a good deal, Mack," he said at length, "but you are a
gallant lad and I am an older man and--"

"Aye! And a better!" shouted Mack.

"And so I will agree."

Once more the field was cleared. And now there fell upon the crowding
people a hush as if they stood in the presence of death itself.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" said the M.P.P. "Do you realise that you are
looking upon a truly great contest, a contest great enough to be of
national, yes, of international, importance?"

"You bet your sweet life!" cried the irrepressible Fatty. "We're going
some. 'What's the matter with our Mack?'" he shouted.

"'HE'S--ALL--RIGHT!'" came back the chant from the surrounding hills in
hundreds of voices.

"And what's the matter with Duncan Ross?" cried Mack, waving a hand
above his head.

Again the assurance of perfect rightness came back in a mighty roar
from the hills. But it was hushed into immediate silence, a silence
breathless and overwhelming, for Black Duncan had taken once more his
place with the hammer in his hand.

"Oh, I do wish they would hurry!" gasped Isa, her hands pressed hard
upon her heart.

"My heart is rather weak, too," said the M.P.P. "I fear I cannot last
much longer. Ah! There he goes, thank God!"

"Amen!" fervently responds little Mrs. Freeman, who, in the intensity
of her excitement, is standing on a chair holding tight by her husband's
coat collar.

Not a sound breaks the silence as Black Duncan takes his swing. It is a
crucial moment in his career. Only by one man in Canada has he ever been
beaten, and with the powers of his antago