“Bless my buttons if it ’ain’t Bob Golden,” and the big fellow came forward with a leap and grasped Bob by the hand.
Meanwhile the five half-breeds had slunk back and were now making the best time possible in the direction from which they had come.
Bob quickly introduced the big man to Rex as soon as he had shaken hands with Jack.
“Rex, this Jack Skeets, the champion log roller of the Kennebec.”
“I am certainly glad to make your acquaintance, sir,” Rex declared as he grasped his hand. “And you certainly came in the nick of time.”
“Sure did, Jack,” Bob agreed.
“What were those fellows trying to do to ye and why?”
As the rest of the crew drew closer, Bob told of their adventures of the night.
“The brutes,” Skeets said when he had finished. “But let ’em go now. We’re on our way up to the camp and we’ll tend to ’em when we get there,” and he explained that he was in charge of the crew that was to occupy that camp for the season.
There were about thirty in the crew and after a short rest they all started for the camp. It was just after seven o’clock when they arrived. They found Jean much disturbed over their absence and about to start out to look for them. The boys quickly told him what had happened and the Frenchman’s eyes flashed with anger as he listened.