The rough man has all this time been stealing up, as nearly as he could to the girl, and now throws his arm about her neck. "Shall I brain him--be a murderer, indeed?" All the Indian is again aroused, and John Logan seems more terrible, and more determined to save her than to defend his own life. "Stand back!" shouts the Girl to Dosson. She attempts to throw him off, but his powerful arm is about her neck. "Forty-nine! Help!" but the old man is unconscious. John Logan is about to start from his corner. "Take that, you brute! and that!" and Stumps whirls his club and thunders against the ribs of the ruffian. "You devil! you brat! what do you mean?" Mad with disappointment and pain, he throws the girl from him, and turns upon the boy. He clutches him by the back of the neck as he starts to escape, and bears him to the ground. "Look 'ere, do you know what I'm going to do with you? I'm going to break your back across my knee! yes, I am!" and he glares about terribly. Carrie shrinks back to the side of Forty-nine. "Oh! Help! He will murder him! He will kill him!" "No, I won't murder you, you brat, but I'll chuck you out in that snow and let you cool off, while I have your sister all to myself. Come here; give me your ear!" and the great, strong ruffian seizes his ear and fairly carries him along by it toward the door. "Give me your ear!" "Oh, sister, sister! He will kill me!" howls Stumps. "Forty-nine! save us! We will be murdered!" "Come, I say, give me your ear!" thunders the brute, as he fairly draws the boy still toward the door. "Stop that, or die!" The frenzied girl, failing to arouse Forty-nine, has caught up the gun from the corner, and brought the muzzle to the ruffian's breast. He totters back, and throws up his arms. "Go back there and sit down, or I will kill you!" "Give me your ear! Come!" roars Stumps. It is now his turn. "Give me your ear!" He reaches up and takes that red organ in his hand, and nearly wrenches it from the brute's head, as he leads him back, with many twists and gyrations, slowly to a low seat at the other side of the cabin. Still holding the gun in level, and in dangerous proximity to the man's breast, Carrie cries: "Now if you attempt to move you are a dead man!" "Give me your ear!" and Stumps wrenches it again, as he sits the man firmly on his low stool, with his red face making mad distortions from the pain. "John Logan, come!" calls the girl. "No, don't you start, Gar Dosson. Don't you lift a finger; if you do, you die!" The curtains are parted, and John Logan starts forth. "Go, go! There's not a moment to lose. The sheriff will be here; they are coming! Quick! Go at once! I hear--I hear them coming!" The man springs to the door; the latch is lifted; a moment more and he will be free--safe, at least for the night. Out into the friendly darkness, where man and beast, where pursuer and pursued, are equal, and equally helpless.