"Damn ye," said Thompson, between closely clamped teeth, "ye escaped me somehow last night, but ye won't do it now. Ye mont as well say yer prayers, an' say 'em quick, fer ye air a goner. I'll tear yer heart out an' hang it on a pole an' take it back to ther gal." Thompson raised himself a little higher until he stood on the tips of his toes, in order that the force of his blow might be felt more heavily. The knife started on its descending mission of murder. Wade shuddered, he felt it was his last moment on earth. The carelessness of falling to sleep bad given his enemy a great advantage. But no, Fate was to save him. A rifle shot rang out over the mountain stillness, the knife dropped to the ground, the band that had held it fell limp to one side. With a cursing snarl and a howl of intense pain Thompson quickly picked up the knife with his left hand and was about to plunge it into the drowsy form of Jack Wade. Just at this juncture old Peter Judson burst through the undergrowth and, in a commanding voice, cried out: "Drap that knife, Al Thompson, or ye air a dead man right thar!" Thompson, looking into the barrel of Peter's rifle, concluded that chances were against him, and allowed the knife to fall harmless at Wade's feet. "Ye'll not be after committin' murder on the mountain to-day," said Judson. "So ye're helpin' ther newcomer, Judson, air ye?" asked Thompson sullenly. "No, durn ye," replied Peter. "I'm helpin' you, ye fool. I'm seein' fair play, too. Ye hain't satisfied ter burn up all a feller's cabin, an' everything else ye kin git at, but ye want ter commit a dogged, dirty murder right hyar afore my eyes. Ye git, now, Thompson, an' git quick." Knowing that it would gain him nothing to argue with Judson, Thompson moved off, holding his crippled hand with the good one. Sending back a parting shot, he darted out of sight. "Ye'll regret that act, Peter Judson," he said. Giving each of them a sullen look, he was gone like a flash. "Ther dirty wolf!" exclaimed Peter, shaking his fist after the retreating form of Thompson. Turning to Wade he asked: "What made ye take sich a fool notion as this, boy?" Jack replied evasively. "You have saved me, Judson," he said, "and I reckon my life is in your hands. Do as you like. By my own foolishness I might have died twice, yea, thrice, in the last twenty-four hours, but you have saved me." "What one man does for another is not to be talked about," said Peter. "Jest ye don't be sich a fool any more. By yer foolishness, as ye call it, ye have got me in ther same boat 'long side o' ye. I 'low thar'll be no rest 'bout this hyar mountain till both of us is in our graves, fer I've waked up ther devil from ther deep o' hell this day shore." "I'm sorry to have caused you this trouble," said Wade regretfully. "It may have been better had that snarling wolf----"