“Pretty nigh got me, Ned,” laughed “Shorty,” feebly. “Guess I’d have gone if it hadn’t been for these lads. They ran out there and got me.”
The lumbermen had gathered about their injured comrade, and as he spoke they turned to the boys. They slapped them affectionately on the back and praised them for their bravery. Then they gave three mighty cheers which roared and echoed up and down the river for a mile.
“Well, let’s sail into it!” yelled Crawford.
His crew went to work with a will, and Ed and George stood by, interested witnesses of the determined onslaught. They saw daring chances taken by reckless men, and several miraculous escapes. The foreman himself led in the perilous work. He it was who, when the pile of logs began to creak and give and totter, stood calmly below them until the last of his crew had jumped to safety. Then, as the jam crumbled and broke, he, too, leaped from under the crash and ran nimbly across the tops of plunging logs to shore.
When the obstacle had been overcome, Crawford despatched a man up the river to the telephone-box, with orders for the crew above to resume operations. It was important that no time should be lost in getting the logs through while the high water lasted. Much against his wishes, “Shorty” was ordered to camp, and a new man was left on watch at the dangerous turn of the river.
Assisted by the boys, Ben paddled the canoe upstream, following in the wake of the bateau. The men in the latter struck up a familiar river song, and the music came drifting back over the water.
“I should think they would be too tired to sing, after what they’ve just been through,” said George.
“They’ve forgotten about it long ago; it’s all part of the day’s work,” laughed Ben.
The boat soon drew away in advance of the canoe. When the occupants of the latter disembarked at the camp, the larger craft had already landed “Shorty” and disappeared up the river.
That night was a gala one in the bunk-house. The whole crew of “lumber-jacks,” having learned of the boys’ gallant rescue of Brundage, came into camp to do them honor. Men arrived from far down the river to have a “look at the youngsters” who had made good. The merrymaking was shared by all, and there was a general thanksgiving because “Shorty,” the best jam-breaker in the country, had been spared to his crew. Nor was Charley, the cook, to be outdone. When the fun had reached its height, he marched solemnly to the door of the bunk-house and, waving his arm toward the “grub-shanty,” invited them all over for a surprise party.