He of the straight back and curly hair had been a strong young fellow, but, taken unawares, the contest was bound to go against him. Once, it seemed, he had brought Budd to his knees; once he had nearly hurled him from the rocking car; but his knapsack must have hampered him, and his musket and heavy cartridge box. The bounty jumper fought in silence and with desperate method, gaining advantage every moment; while one hand pinioned a phantom forearm, the other closed with murderous clutch upon a ghostly throat. Meanwhile the professor stood by with folded arms watching critically, one would have thought impartially. It was over presently, and Budd stood breathing hard. Then-- "Jump for your life!" commanded the professor. Without an instant's hesitation, Budd crept to the cañon's brink and peered below. "All right!" he whispered. "Good-by, Dutch! We're free!" And with a last grasp of the aspen tree he swung himself across the edge and dropped. The boys were mad enough to find no supper ready when they came from timber line; but not surprised, for Budd was never one to give long notice when he changed his habitation. And if somewhere on a high shelf in an Eastern university--not Charbridge, by the way--there is still a cube of red rock labeled "North Fork Cañon," it is the only memorial left of the man without a pension. THE END End of Project Gutenberg's On the Lightship, by Herman Knickerbocker Vielé