that brave Baptiste had rescued him from, flashed into his mind, and
springing to his feet he cried,--

"Hurry--hurry! Mr. Johnston is in Deep Gully, and he can't move. The
bridge broke under us, and he was almost killed. Oh, hurry, won't you, or
the wolves will be after him!"

The men looked at one another in astonishment and horror.

"Deep Gully!" they exclaimed. "That's five miles off. We must go at
once."

And immediately all was bustle and excitement as they prepared to go out
into the night. As lumbermen always sleep in their clothes, they did not
take long to dress, and in a wonderfully short space of time the
teamsters had a sleigh with a pair of horses at the door, upon which
eight of the men, armed with guns and axes, sprang, and off they went
along the road as fast as the horses could gallop. Frank wanted to
accompany them, but Baptiste would not allow him.

"No, no, _mon cher._ You must stay wid me. You tired out. They get him
all right, and bring him safe home."

And he was fair to lie back, so tortured with anxiety for the foreman
that he could hardly appreciate the blessing of rest, although his own
exertions had been tremendous.

Not sparing the horses, the rescuers sped over the road, ever now and
then discharging a gun, in order to let Johnston know of their approach
and keep his courage up. In less than half-an-hour they reached the