“I must, I must,” he said aloud, as he took the logs with flying leaps.
The end of the fuse had disappeared as he reached the spot, and he knew that only an inch or two remained. Quickly he shoved his hand between the two logs, and grabbing hold of the fuse he gave it a sharp jerk and flung it far out into the water. As it went flying through the air, he could see that less than two inches remained.
A strange feeling of weakness stole over him as he realized how near he had been to death, and he sank down on a log and buried his face in his arms.
In another minute Jack had his arms about him, and the tears running down his cheeks was imploring him to look up. Bob had not fainted and after a moment his strength began to come back and he got slowly to his feet.
“It was close, awful close, Jack boy,” he whispered. “But thank God I made it in time.”
“And it was the bravest thing I ever saw,” Jack declared.
Then, as if by one impulse, the brothers knelt there on the logs, and, with arms about each other, they thanked God for His goodness.
“But we must see to Jean,” Bob cried, as he sprang to his feet.
They found the Frenchman still tugging to get his foot free.
“Just a minute, old fellow, and we’ll have you out,” Bob said, as he bent to examine the log which held the man prisoner. “Catch hold here, Jack, and when I give the word lift as hard as you can.”