“Don’t you worry, Jean,” Bob gibed. “Jack is going out after he eats his supper and push ’em off for you.” Jean glanced at the speaker, a puzzled expression on his face. He always had difficulty in deciding whether or not Bob was serious. But as he caught the twinkle in the boy’s eyes, a broad grin spread over his face. “I tink mebby I better hurry an’ go down der river and tell ’em to clear der way, oui,” he said soberly. “Never mind, Jean,” Jack assured him. “They’ll have to take their chances down below.” “What seems to be the main trouble,” Bob asked seriously. “Can’t you find the key log?” “Oui, we find heem all right, one, two, three, many time, but when we find heem and blow heem out, heem no key log one time,” Jean declared with a seriousness which made them all laugh. It was dark before they had finished supper, and Mr. Golden and the three boys went at once to their rooms on the second floor, where they sat for some time discussing the situation. “Mr. Donahue promised that he would have his crew up here by noon tomorrow,” Mr. Golden told them. “But,” he added, with a shake of his head, “you know as well as I do how much dependence can be placed on what he promises.” “You bet we do,” Jack said. “I’ll believe it when I see them and not before. But it seems to me that there must be a key log there that’s holding these logs. Oh, I know that Jean forgets more about log jams every night than I ever knew,” he hastened to add, as he saw that Bob was about to speak. “But you know, ‘fools rush in where angels fear to tread,’ and I might be lucky enough to find it even when he can’t. Anyhow, I’m going to have one good look for it in the morning, and I may surprise you all.” “Here’s hoping,” Bob smiled, as he began to pull off his clothes. The boys were tired from their long trip and by nine o’clock they were sound asleep. “They certainly are wedged in good and tight.” It was the next morning. They had eaten an early breakfast and, accompanied by their father, the boys had hastened out to the jam. Jean and his small crew were already at work with their peavies prying out a log here and there. But, as Rex declared, it seemed like a hopeless task where there were so many thousands of them. Bob and Jack had put on their calked boots, but Rex and Mr. Golden were wearing their ordinary shoes. “They sure are,” Bob answered his brother’s remark, “But it’ll be all right just as soon as Jack gets his eyes on that key log,” and he gave Rex a sly wink. “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never harm me,” Jack laughed as he moved out toward the middle of the river.