“And that’s often the hardest work of all,” Stebbins declared. “That brother of yours is a very brave lad.”
“I’ll tell the world he is, and then some,” Jack agreed.
“He doesn’t know the meaning of fear,” Rex added.
“And to think that it was my weakness that’s the cause of it all,” Stebbins groaned.
Outside it was as dark as the proverbial pocket. For a moment Bob stood still and listened. A slight murmur as the tree tops swayed in the light wind was all the sound that reached his ears. Careful to make not the slightest noise, he crept around the corner of the cabin, keeping close to it until he reached the back. Here again he paused to listen. No sound came, and after a moment he continued. Perhaps fifteen minutes had passed when he once more stood by the front door.
Again and again he made the circuit, stopping every few feet to listen. Once he thought he heard a sound as of some object moving a little in front of him, but as he paused to listen, he decided that it had been only his imagination. Nearly an hour had passed since he had come out, and he had passed around the cabin many times, when, as he crept around the front right-hand corner, his foot struck something. Stooping down he felt about with his hand. A small pile of what felt like birch bark was lying close up against the corner.
“Now I wonder if that’s been there all the time,” he thought, as he straightened up. “I’ll just camp around this corner for a while,” he decided, as he sat down and leaned his back against the logs.
It seemed to him that he had sat there a long time, and he was thinking that he had better make another round of the cabin, when his sharp ears caught a slight sound. Instantly he was all attention, trying to pierce the darkness. He could, however, see nothing, but in a moment he again heard the same noise. Someone was creeping slowly and carefully toward the cabin. He crouched ready for a sudden spring. Suddenly he heard a scraping sound and instantly a match flared up. And then he sprang.
Bob was not more than four feet from the man, and he landed fairly on his shoulders. With a grunt of surprise the man went over backward, with Bob on top, trying his best to get a hold on his throat. After the first grunt, neither made a sound, save for their heavy breathing. Over and over they rolled, each trying in vain to get a decisive hold on the other. Once Bob secured a half Nelson, but the great strength of his antagonist served to break it. A moment later the man got a hold on Bob’s throat, and for an instant he thought he was done for, but, exerting all his strength, he managed to free one hand, and grasping the other’s wrist, he tore his hand away, just in time to save his breath. The man was breathing heavily, and Bob was encouraged to believe that he would get the better of him shortly, provided his friends did not come to his assistance.
The end came sooner than he had dared hope for. Feeling his chance, Bob succeeded in getting a hold, which he had learned some years previous, from a Jap friend at college. The hold was such that the man’s right arm was forced back from the elbow and he was helpless to free himself. Slowly, inch by inch, Bob bent the arm back, until finally he heard the bone snap. With a sharp cry of pain the man struggled to his feet as Bob released his hold and in an instant was lost in the darkness. Bob, fearing that he would be back with the others, quickly ran to the front door of the cabin and calling softly, was at once admitted.