But one man did break through the circle of guards and the lads let him pass. He was Mr. Herrick. Tears of joy coursed down his good natured face when he saw that Dacy was still alive, and before the scouts could restrain him he seized the prostrate man's hand and squeezed it while he murmured:
"Dacy, Dacy, thank goodness you are still alive. I was afraid you had sacrificed your life to save that little girl of mine."
Then turning toward Bruce, he said, "Scouts, I don't know how to thank you for this. I—"
"Don't try to thank us, Mr. Herrick," said Bruce, "but you can help us put him onto the side car. I think we should get to a doctor's right away, for there may be some broken bones or internal injuries."
And a few moments later the life guard's motorcycle was carrying its first patient to the emergency hospital.
CHAPTER XIV
WHEN THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENED
Whack—"Nine-hundred-en-ten;" whack—"nine-hundred-en-'leven," whack, "Zare ees almoost une tousan trees what you boys mus' cut awraty. What you zink of zat?" said Paul Nez, the big French-Canadian lumber cruiser, as he hacked a blaze into a six-inch poplar and left his short hatchet wedged fast while he felt through his pockets for a handkerchief.
"Et will take you all ze Wintair for ze work mebbe, huh?" he continued, as he blew his nose with a loud blast.
"George! I shouldn't wonder if it would take us a couple of months at least," said Bruce Clifford as he sat down upon a stump and pushed his hat back upon his head.