A SHOT FROM THE FOREST

Tom leaped back and the stick hit the ground instead of the mark that it was intended to reach.

Before the foreman could recover himself, Tom Gray was upon him, and a blow from the Overlander Rider's fist sent Peg Tatem reeling, but before Tom could follow up his advantage, the lumberman collected himself and began leaping around Tom, now striking with the club, then kicking out with the wooden leg. It was impossible to get close enough to the fellow to give him the knock-out blow that Captain Gray was hoping to land on his adversary.

Thus far neither side had made a move to interfere with the combatants, but a movement on the part of the lumberjacks, a gradual edging up, warned Hippy that his opportunity to get into the scrimmage was near at hand.

"Prepare to defend yourselves, girls," he said in a tone that carried to their ears only. "If the worst comes, shoot! Tom and I may get knocked out, for these fellows are tougher than the trees they cut."

"Don't worry, Hippy. We will take care of ourselves," said Grace calmly. "Trust us to defend ourselves."

"With what?" questioned Elfreda.

"There are plenty of good stout sticks on the ground. If you see that these jacks mean to attack us, each of you grab a club and let them have it on their heads. See! Joe is holding her club behind her."

The forest woman was waiting grimly for an opportunity to crack a lumberjack's head. That opportunity came sooner than she expected. Two jacks, having crept around behind the lean-tos, suddenly lifted the rear supports and turned the structures over into the fire.

"Beat it, ye varmint!" screamed the woman, making a rush for the men. One of them struck her, but fortunately for Joe it was a glancing blow, and merely turned her around facing away from them. Joe kept on turning until she was again facing the jeering lumbermen.

"Take that, ye varmint!" The forest woman's club descended on a lumberjack's head. "And ye, too!" she shrieked, hitting the other man across the bridge of his nose.

"Come on! Come on, and I'll wallop the whole pack of ye!"

"Steady, Joe," warned Grace Harlowe. "Don't lose your head."

Tom and Peg were still at it, the foreman growing more and more ferocious as the moments passed and knowing that he had the Overlander at a disadvantage, for Tom was fighting with his fists only, while Peg was using his stick and his wooden leg, and it were difficult for any person, no matter how skillful a boxer he might be, to get under those two dangerous guards. Once Tom succeeded in doing so. His blow knocked the foreman down, but Peg rolled away and was on his feet again with remarkable quickness, and went at his adversary determined to brain him.

"Ready, girls!" called Hippy.

"They are going to rush us," warned Grace. "When I say 'Clubs!' you girls grab sticks, keep together, and stand your ground. Don't run at them."

Each Overland girl carried an automatic revolver, and there were rifles within easy reach, but it was not their intention to use either, unless the necessity to do so became imperative. The rifles had been brought on this journey largely because the party hoped to do some hunting in the North Woods. The revolvers were, as on previous journeys into the wilder sections of their native country, a part of their regular equipment and for use in great emergencies only.

The lumberjacks with one accord rushed at the Overland Riders, uttering yells and jeers. They carried no weapons in their hands, but, as Grace knew to be their practice, each jack wore a lumberman's knife.

"Clubs!"

At the signal, each Overland girl snatched up a stick and stood her ground with set lips and a face from which most of the color had fled, realizing fully the seriousness of the situation.

Lieutenant Wingate waited until the lumberjacks were almost upon him, waited lounging indolently, his face wearing a grin.

"Oh, don't hurry, children," he admonished. "Save your wind for the flight to the rear." Suddenly, Hippy bent forward and when he rose his hand held a pine knot fully five feet long, the limb ablaze almost from end to end. Not more than two feet separated the burning part from his hands.

The limb was heavy, but Lieutenant Wingate was far from delicate, and when he swung the burning limb it had power and speed behind it. The limb burned and bruised the faces of three lumberjacks in its first swing. Hippy plunged at the mob and belabored them right and left with the blazing torch. More than one jack had to stop fighting long enough to put out the blaze that singed the hair off his head.

Other jacks had run around one end of the camp to rush it from that vantage point. Joe Shafto and her club met them, and so did the Overland girls. Without uttering a sound they belabored the ruffians, beating, whacking, prodding and swinging their clubs to good purpose.

"Help! Oh, help!" screamed Emma Dean.

A thrown club had hit her on the leg and felled her. Emma was out of the fight so far as further defense was concerned, holding her aching limb and moaning as she rocked back and forth.

Hippy turned for a quick glance in her direction.

"Look out, Hippy!" warned Nora, but her warning was too late. Several of the attackers, taking advantage of his attention being drawn away from them, leaped on him. They bore Hippy to the ground. He was mauled and thumped, but not for many seconds, because the girls rushed to his rescue and clubbed his attackers off. The jacks, returning, picked Lieutenant Wingate up and tossed him into the campfire.

Emma screamed at the sight, but Elfreda Briggs grabbed his protruding feet and hauled him out, while Grace and her companions beat back the jacks who had done the cruel thing. Elfreda put out the flames and assisted Hippy to his feet.

"Go in and fight!" urged J. Elfreda. "They're getting the best of us."

At that instant, Tom Gray, turning his head to see how it fared with the girls, was hit on the head by Peg Tatem's club and knocked unconscious. As it proved later, the blow was a light one and Tom was not seriously hurt.

The foreman, uttering an exultant yell, aimed a kick at Tom's head with his peg leg.

Grace Harlowe hurled her club at the foreman's head, but missed the mark.

Bang!

A bullet hit Peg's wooden leg, and the leg went out from under its owner like magic. Peg landed on the ground but he was up in an instant, raging and springing for Tom. A second bullet hit the wooden leg and split it.

The Overlanders were amazed.

"Who shot?" cried Anne.

"Don't know," panted Elfreda as she and Hippy charged two jacks who were trying to reach Emma.

Peg, frantic with rage, turned his attention to the others of the party, apparently believing that one of them had fired the shots. He raised his club to strike Grace who was bending over Tom.

Bang!

The club dropped from Peg's hand, and the arm fell to his side with a bullet hole through it.

The Club Dropped from Peg's Hand.

"I'm hit! Kill 'em!" he screamed. Grabbing up the stick with his left hand, the foreman again started for Grace, his eyes bloodshot, his lips purple.

Grace grabbed what was nearest to her hand, a pine knot, and hurled it at the ruffian. It hit him full in the face, and the sharp protuberances on the knot drew points of blood.

A blow from a lumberjack's fist, at this juncture, knocked Joe Shafto flat on her back. She was up with a bound.

"Henerey! Henere-e-e-e-e!" There was a wild note in her voice, a note of alarm and command. "Henere-e-e-e-e-e!"

They heard Henry sliding down a tree—heard his paws raking the bark as he slid. Joe heard it too.

"Sick 'em! Sick 'em! Sick 'em!" she screamed, giving Henry a violent prod with her club and driving the bear towards the lumberjacks. One of them struck the beast with a club, hitting Henry over the shoulders.

Henry made a pass at the man, bringing away a section of the fellow's coat in his claws which dug into the jack's flesh with their sharp points. The man howled and fled from the beast.

Alternately prodding the bear with her club, and cracking a lumberjack head wherever possible, the forest woman fought her way ahead, backed by Tom and Hippy.

Thus goaded, Henry rose on his hind legs and went through that party of rough-necks like one of his kind cuffing its way through a flock of grazing sheep. Henry bit where he could, but his greatest execution was done with his powerful paws.

The Overland Riders, though angry, weary and perspiring, unable to resist the humor of the ludicrous sight, broke into shouts of laughter.

"Henry has them on the run. Sail in!" bellowed Hippy. "Run, you ruffians, before I turn the rest of our menagerie on you!"

The lumberjacks were now giving ground rapidly, though Peg, wounded and, judging from his expression, suffering, was not further punished. When he saw his men running away, the foreman of Section Forty-three hopped off as best he could, shouting angry threats. The victorious Overlanders with the assistance of Henry chased the lumber outfit to the river, into which the jacks plunged and waded across with all speed.

"Don't you ever show your face in our camp again! Next time, if you do, it will be bullets, not clubs," Lieutenant Wingate shouted after the retreating attackers.

Henry was restrained from following the lumbermen across the river only by heroic measures. The forest woman headed him off and clubbed him back towards the camp, her clothing torn, her hair down her back, her face red and angry.

"Splendid!" cried Grace Harlowe, running to meet her. "You are wonderful."

"I say, Joseph, if that's your name, may I address you as 'Old Dear' without imperilling my life?" teased Hippy.

"Ye kin call me anything ye like. After the talk of them varmints anything would sound as sweet as the harps of Heving in a thunder storm."

"All right—Old Dear," answered Hippy solemnly. "I was going to tell you that you are the apple of my eye, but, being a peach, you can't very well be an apple, so we will let it go at 'Old Dear.'"

Joe glared through her spectacles. The sharp lines of the rugged face of the forest woman gradually melted into a smile, the first smile that any member of that party had ever seen there.

"Go on with ye!" she retorted laughing despite her attempt to be stern. "I ought to sick the bear on ye, but I ain't goin' to."