To be sure only at the head and reaching back a distance of some thirty feet were the logs piled up to any extent. Back of them the logs had been brought to a stop more gently and had not “climbed.” But it was bad enough and both boys looked sober as they waited for Jean, who was rapidly making his way across the logs toward them. “I tink we hav’ one mess, oui,” he declared, as he joined them. “I know it,” Bob agreed. “What are you going to do?” “Mebby one log hold ’em,” he said, as he waved his hand to the rest of the crew who were still some distance away. “We find heem an’ geet heem loose, all the logs go mebby. No find heem we hav’ use der powder.” As soon as the rest of the crew came up, they started for the middle of the river. “She one ver’ bad jam,” Jean declared, as they reached the very front of the drive. For an hour they all worked, first at one log and then at another, hoping to locate one which would prove to be the “key.” Several times they thought they had hit it as, a log being pried loose, they were conscious of a quiver in the mass. But each time it was a false alarm, and at the end of the hour Jean declared that it was no use to try any longer. He called to Bob, who at the moment was a little to his right, and as soon as he came to his side he said: “I tink we put ’bout three sticks right dar,” pointing to a place where several logs were closely massed together, “mebby she start, hey?” “You’re the doctor,” Bob said, shaking his head. “But it looks to me as though nothing short of an earthquake would start them.” “Well, we try heem,” Jean said, as he started back toward the rear of the drive. He was back in a few minutes, carrying the dynamite together with a battery outfit which he had gotten from the big scow, which always accompanies the drive, loaded with supplies. “Now we feex heem,” Jean declared, and in a short time the three sticks of dynamite had been placed where Jean thought they would do the most good. Soon the wires were connected and laid over the logs to the shore, and all was ready to close the circuit. “Let her go,” Jean shouted, and Bob pressed the button. But, to their surprise, nothing happened. Again and again he closed the circuit, but with no result. “Guess we got a bum connection somewhere,” he declared, as he began to inspect the wire. “Every connection’s all right now,” he declared a few minutes later, after he had examined the last one. But again nothing happened when he pressed the button. “Must be the batteries are dead,” Jack volunteered. “Shouldn’t wonder,” Bob agreed, as he began to examine the cells. “They look like old ones.” “I go see eef Bill got more,” Jean said, and started back on a run. “Heem no more have, but I got one bon piece fuse he had. I feex heem ver’ queek,” Jean said, as he returned a few minutes later.