'What's the use of doin' that? Ef they kill us, that'll be the end on't; but ef they put thar claws on us, they've got us sure, and can have a good time toastin' us while they yelp and dance around.' All shuddered at the fearful picture drawn by the hunter. 'Jerusalem! don't I wish I was to hum in Connecticut!' 'And it's myself that would be plaised to be sitting in the parlor at Ballyduff wid me own Bridget Moghlaghigbogh, listenin' while she breathed swate vows, after making her supper upon praties and inions.' 'I think I'd ruther be hyar,' was the commentary of the trapper upon the expressed wish of the Irishman. 'Why can't yees touch up the staammau, and make him hop owver them shtones?' asked Mickey, turning toward the boy, whom, it was noted, appeared to be in deep reverie again. Not until he was addressed several times did he look up. Then he merely shook his head, to signify that the thing was impossible. 'Any fool might know better than that.' remarked the Yankee, 'for if he could jump over, where would be the wagon?' 'That 'ud foller, av coorse.' 'No; there's no way of getting the steam man out of here. He is a gone case, sure, and it looks as though we were ditto. Jerusalem! I wish all the gold was back in Wolf Ravine, and we war a thousand miles from this place.' 'Wishing'll do no good; there's only one chance I see, and that ain't no chance at all.' All, including the boy, eagerly looked up to hear the explanation. 'Some distance from hyar is some timbers, and in thar the reds have left their animals. Ef we start on a run for the timbers, git thar ahead of the Ingins, mount thar hosses and put, thar'll be some chance. Yer can see what chance thar is fur that.' It looked as hopeless as the charge of the Light Brigade. Young Brainerd now spoke. 'It was I who got you into trouble, and it is I, that, with the blessing of Heaven, am going to get you out of it.' The three now looked eagerly at him. 'Is there no danger of the Indians firing upon us?' he asked of the hunter. 'Not unless we try to run away.' 'All right; it is time to begin.' The boy's first proceeding was to kindle a fire in the boiler of the steam man. When it was fairly blazing, he continued to heap in wood, until a fervent heat was produced such as it had never experienced before. Still he threw in wood, and kept the water low in the boiler, until there was a most prodigious pressure of steam, making its escape at half a dozen orifices. When all the wood was thrown in that it could contain, and portions of the iron sheeting could be seen becoming red-hot, he ceased this, and began trying the steam. 'How much can he hold?' inquired Hopkins. 'One hundred and fifty pounds.' 'How much is on now?' 'One hundred and forty-eight, and rising.' 'Good heavens! it will blow up!' was the exclamation, as the three shrunk back, appalled at the danger. 'Not for a few minutes; have you the gold secured, and the guns, so as to be ready to run?'