“Dat our beesness.” The breed scowled as he took a step nearer. Bob glanced at Rex. The latter’s face was pale although he showed no other sign of fear. As for Jack he was leaning against a tree as nonchalantly as though nothing had happened or was likely to. “As for getting you wet,” Bob continued. “You have only yourselves to blame for that. You surely didn’t expect us to stand still and be beat up, did you?” “We no would have hurt then but now you geet beat up ver’ queek and ver’ bon; just soon we rest a leetle minute,” and the leader stepped back to where the others were standing. “I’m afraid he means it,” Bob said in low tones. “The question is had we better take it or fight?” “I’m going to fight,” Jack declared. “I’m not going to stand still and let any half-breed beat me without giving him something in return.” “I’m mighty sorry we got you into this, Rex,” Bob began, but Rex quickly interrupted him. “You needn’t be as far as that’s concerned. It won’t be the first beating I’ve taken and I flatter myself that I’m fairly good with my fists. I’ll bet I leave a mark on one of them before he gets me.” “Here they come,” Bob shouted at that moment. “Don’t let them get hold of you if you can help it.” The five men were coming with a rush, no doubt intending to finish the job in short order. The man who had done the talking was the first to reach them and he selected Bob for his onslaught. He rushed at the boy with a hoarse cry of rage and exultation combined. Bob stepped quickly forward to meet him, an act which seemed to disconcert the man for an instant. He nearly stopped but, seeing that the others were close behind him, he came on again. As he came within striking distance he swung a vicious blow at the boy’s head. Bob dodged the blow easily and succeeded in landing a glancing blow in return. As the man plunged past Bob turned but, before he could set himself for another blow, his feet were jerked out from under him and he came down in a heap in the soft snow. “Now I geet you bon,” the breed cried as he sprang forward. CHAPTER XIV LOG ROLLING “Here, now. What’s all the rough house about?” As the man who was about to jump on Bob heard the shout he turned and Bob sprang to his feet. A cry of joy burst from his lips as he looked about and saw a crowd of men coming toward them. “Jack Skeets!” he shouted as he recognized the foremost, a swarthy faced giant. “Bless my buttons if it ’ain’t Bob Golden,” and the big fellow came forward with a leap and grasped Bob by the hand. Meanwhile the five half-breeds had slunk back and were now making the best time possible in the direction from which they had come. Bob quickly introduced the big man to Rex as soon as he had shaken hands with Jack. “Rex, this Jack Skeets, the champion log roller of the Kennebec.”