took an axe out
of the carpenter's hand. The sailors had disappeared in the direction
of the waggon. A moment later the two ex-officers were felling the
tree.

It was Winchester's whim to use an axe where he could. He delighted in
the pastime, and his tremendous physique enabled him to make such play
with the tool as could few men who were not experts. Under his
guidance, Anthony had proved an apt pupil, and the two, working
together, could send a soft-wood tree toppling in no time. So engaged;
they made a wonderful picture. Had any passed by at this moment, they
might have been pardoned for staring.

At his fourth stroke Anthony misjudged the angle, and his axe stuck.
As he leaned forward to lever it out of the wood, there was the whirr
of steel falling, and he flung himself back with a cry. The other had
struck without waiting for him to get clear.

As an error of judgment, the thing was inexplicable. A child of six
would have known better. And an axe was no pop-gun.

For a moment he stared at Winchester like a man in a dream.

His employer blinked back....

Then his eyes narrowed.

"_You're_ getting curious, are you?" he said thickly.

In spite of himself, Anthony started.

Loosely nursing his implement, the other took a step to one side.
There was not much in the movement, but it placed him between Lyveden
and the road.

Anthony kept his eyes riveted upon the powerful hands playing with the
haft of the axe....

Twenty paces away a saw was going. Raised above the din could be heard
the engineer's voice calling for the return of his pencil. A distant
clatter of timber told that the waggon was being unloaded.

Anthony moistened his lips.

For another pair of eyes he would have given anything. Any moment now
he would have to jump--one way or the other. It did not matter which.
The going was equally bad. But if he met an obstruction--caught his
foot in a root--fell among briers at the outset, he knew he was doomed.
The impulse to glance to one side was terrible. Yet he dared not take
his eyes from those terrible itching fingers. If only one of the
men----

The noise of the saw stopped, and a piece of wood fell with a thud.
Blake's voice was heard asking the whereabouts of his rule. The answer
was inaudible, but the next moment somebody started to move in the
direction of the fir. As they passed Patch, they chirruped.

In an instant the axe leapt to Winchester's shoulder, and Anthony