"Oskar!" cried Jean, leaping from her chair at the moment that Wentworth hurled himself upon Hedin. Her cry was drowned in the swift impact of bodies and the sound of blows, and grunts, and heavy breathing. McNabb and Cameron drew back and the bodies, locked in a clench, toppled to the floor, overturning a chair. "Oh, stop them! Stop them!" shrieked the girl. "He'll kill him!" "Who'll kill who?" grinned McNabb, holding her back with one hand, without taking his eyes from the struggling, fighting figures that writhed almost at his feet, overturning boxes and bales in their struggles. "He'll kill Oskar! He's bigger----" "Not by a damn sight, he won't!" roared McNabb. "Look at um! Look at um! Oskar's on top! Give him hell, lad!" Jean had ceased her protest, and to her own intense surprise she found herself leaning forward, watching every move. She cried out with pain when Wentworth's fist brought the blood from Oskar's nose, and she applauded when Hedin's last three blows landed with vicious thuds against the engineer's upturned chin. Hedin rose to his feet and held the handkerchief to his bleeding nose. McNabb's hand gripped his shoulder. "Ye done fine, lad! Ye done fine!" he exclaimed. Dropping to his knees, Hedin slipped his hand into the unconscious man's pocket and withdrew a key which he tossed to one of the Company Indians who had come running in at the sound of battle. "Here, Joe Irish," he said, "go to the cabin and unlock the trunk that is there and bring back the coat of fur." A few moments later Hedin handed the garment to McNabb. "Here is your missing coat," he said, as Jean threw her arm about his shoulder. "Oskar, dear--" she whispered, and the next moment Hedin's arms were about her and she could feel the wild pounding of his heart against her breast. There was a movement on the floor near their feet, and releasing the girl Hedin reached swiftly down. McNabb's hand stayed him before he could seize hold of Wentworth, who was crawling toward the door. "Let him go, lad," advised the old man. "We've got the coat. An'--an'--we're all happy!" "But the money? He's got the three hundred and fifty thousand!" cried Hedin. McNabb grinned. "Suppose we just let Orcutt worry about that," he said. "I told you Oskar was innocent!" cried Jean triumphantly, as the door closed behind the slinking form of Wentworth. "I told you so from the first! I just knew he never took that coat!" McNabb's eyes were twinkling. "I knew it, too, lass," he answered. "That's why I bailed him out an' sent him up here with two hundred an' fifty thousand dollars in negotiable paper in his pocket to close this deal for me." "And you knew all the time," cried the girl, staring at her father in amazement, "when Orcutt was gloating over you back there, that you, and not he, owned the timber? And you let him go on and humiliate you to your face!"