It was the work of but a moment to substitute the fuse for the wire, and the boys from their position on the bank soon saw the Frenchman strike a match and apply the light to the end of the fuse which was about a foot long. Instantly it began to sputter, and turning quickly Jean started for the bank. He had made but three or four steps, however, when, to their horror, they saw him stumble and fall. A log had rolled beneath his feet. “Make it snappy,” Bob shouted at the top of his voice. “His foot’s caught,” Jack yelled, and Bob saw that what his brother had said was true. They could see that the Frenchman was making Herculean efforts to free himself. “He may not be able to do it in time,” Bob gasped, as he started on the run across the logs. The boy knew that the fuse would burn but a short minute, and that if he failed to reach it in time, he as well as Jean would probably be killed. But the man was in the greatest danger and the boy never hesitated. As he jumped from log to log he breathed a prayer that he might get there in time. He could see the fuse sputtering fiercely and growing rapidly shorter. How heavy his feet felt. It seemed like some hideous nightmare. He could hear Jack shouting for him to come back, but he paid no heed to the commands. But one thought filled his mind. He must get to that fuse before the fire reached the dynamite. “I must, I must,” he said aloud, as he took the logs with flying leaps. The end of the fuse had disappeared as he reached the spot, and he knew that only an inch or two remained. Quickly he shoved his hand between the two logs, and grabbing hold of the fuse he gave it a sharp jerk and flung it far out into the water. As it went flying through the air, he could see that less than two inches remained. A strange feeling of weakness stole over him as he realized how near he had been to death, and he sank down on a log and buried his face in his arms. In another minute Jack had his arms about him, and the tears running down his cheeks was imploring him to look up. Bob had not fainted and after a moment his strength began to come back and he got slowly to his feet. “It was close, awful close, Jack boy,” he whispered. “But thank God I made it in time.” “And it was the bravest thing I ever saw,” Jack declared. Then, as if by one impulse, the brothers knelt there on the logs, and, with arms about each other, they thanked God for His goodness. “But we must see to Jean,” Bob cried, as he sprang to his feet. They found the Frenchman still tugging to get his foot free. “Just a minute, old fellow, and we’ll have you out,” Bob said, as he bent to examine the log which held the man prisoner. “Catch hold here, Jack, and when I give the word lift as hard as you can.” It was a hard lift, but by exerting all their strength they were able to move the log enough to permit Jean to pull his foot out. Fortunately, except for a little skin rubbed off in his efforts to get the foot free, the man was uninjured.