Helped by David, Jean's sinewy fingers soon clutched the lower part of the primitive window. Being thin and wiry, he had no difficulty in drawing himself up to it. With the skill of an acrobat he swung one leg over the opening. The task of drawing himself through was much harder to accomplish. But the will to do so was paramount. Emitting a jubilant shout of accomplishment, he dropped, landing lightly on the cabin floor. Before he could bring his searchlight into play, an indistinct form had seized him in a feeble but affectionate grip. "Jean--good--old Jean!" Tom's broken utterance held a sob of relief and thankfulness. "Oh, M'sieu' Tom," Jean's own voice overran with emotion, "is it of a truth that we hav' fin' you at las'?" Tears of joy were rolling down his weather-beaten cheeks, as he added with sublime faith, "_Le bon Dieu_ hav' hear!" In the overwhelming joy of reunion all else was for the moment forgotten. David's stentorian tones asking, "Are you all right, Jean?" brought back swift realization of the situation. "Can't you manage between the two of you to do something to that door? I'll help all I can from this side." "Yes; all right," returned Jean. Then to Tom: "Hav' you not then the axe, to chop him into splinter'? This very queer way to fin' you, M'sieu' Tom. But now we not stop to ask question, we 'urry, get you out. Go 'way an' then talk. It is to see that you are the prisoner." "Prisoner!" Tom's exclamation vibrated with bitterness. "You can't believe what I've been through. You're right about hurrying to get me out. There's no time to be lost. No, there's neither an axe or a hatchet here. He's too cunning for that. But in one corner of the room is a heavy iron bar. It hasn't done me any good. I've been too weak to use it. Is your rifle outside, Jean? If he should come back before we can get away, you'll need it. Two sturdy men and one poor excuse like myself couldn't handle him. He's the strongest fellow I ever saw." His voice rising he called warning to David. "Keep a sharp watch, old man. If you see or hear anyone coming, give us the signal." "I'm on the job," floated back David's reassuring response. "Show to me the bar," ordered Jean with the brevity of one whose mind is set on swift action. Without replying, Tom limped a straight course in the dark to a corner of the one-room shack. "I've looked at that bar so often and so longingly I could find my way to it if I were blind," he commented with grim wistfulness. "There's not much else in the room, except a bench and a bough bed." Following at his heels, Jean used one hand to train his light on the bar. Soon the other hand had fastened itself firmly around it. "He very strong," was his terse observation. "If you will 'old the light, I try him." Raising his voice he shouted, "M'sieu' David, we hav' foun' very strong piec' iron. Now we try smash open the door. You stan' by, ready. Then soon we go 'way from here with M'sieu' Tom."