“there is a jam forming in the rapids below.”
it was near noon the following day when this information was brought up the river. as the rapids were not considered very dangerous, save near the east shore, it had been arranged to cut the raft in two sections and run it through. now, however, on learning of the threatened jam, forest immediately gave orders to get the raft up to the bank and make it fast.
during the night a lot of logs had gathered in the rapids near the eastern shore, where the rocks rose close to the surface. had the collection been seen at the start a jam might have been prevented, but the messenger from down the river said it looked now as if there would be a jam, despite the efforts of the men.
“this will cause delay and expense, merriwell,” said fred forest, “but it will give you and your friends an opportunity to witness the breaking of a real jam.”
“it’s an opportunity we will not miss,” declared frank.
“oh, i don’t know,” grunted browning. “how far down the river is it?”
“five miles.”
“how do we get there?”
“walk.”
“then i don’t believe i’ll go.”
and it proved useless to urge him.
[205]
the others, however, were ready enough to go, and soon they were on their way.
“i don’t miss dot!” declared the fat dutch boy, as he puffed along with the others. “dot jam peen goin’ to take a look at me. i pet dot jam can broke me uf id tried.”
“i think you have had quite enough experience as river driver,” laughed frank. “you had better let some other person break the jam.”
“possibly you do not know the danger of breaking a jam?” put in the young lumberman.
“how vos id done?”
“with dynamite, sometimes.”
“and der odder dimes?”
“with an ax.”
“vale, i could use an ax.”
“the man who breaks a jam of logs with an ax stands about one chance in three of reaching the shore alive.”
“py chorch! i don’d toldt you dot!”
“and whole crews have been wiped out by the use of dynamite.”
“vale, i don’d belief dot jam vill broke me!”
forest spoke no more than the simple truth. before dynamite was used, one man would go out on the front of a jam and cut the key log with an ax. the moment the log began to bend, the chopper made a dash for the shore. about once in three times he reached the shore unharmed, but the chances were against him. many a good man has gone down under the logs, ground to a shapeless mass by the crashing timbers as they came[206] piling over each other, some of them whirling end over end.
in later years, as a rule, five or six men go out on the jam and cut a big hole into the heart of the tumbled timbers. then a cartridge is inserted, the fuse lighted, and a scramble for safety follows. men who have heard the old “rebel yell” in war timers declare the foreman’s cry of “shore! shore!” when uttered under a jam of logs, is the most terrifying sound their ears have ever heard.
diamond was as eager as anybody to see a jam. he felt that the sight of a breaking jam would fully repay him for the trip down the river on the raft.
hodge said nothing, but strode along with the others.
it was a hard tramp down the river, but they reached the jam before the men had been able to break it. in fact, it was afterward reported that sullivan had acted exactly as if he had no desire to break it, but was anxious to have the logs pile up in as nasty a manner as possible.
there was a big mountain of logs on the eastern shore, and when forest saw it he was angry, for more logs were coming down and blocking upon the others.
between the end of the jam and the western bank the water poured with express speed.
“why don’t you have the men keep those other logs from jamming in there, sullivan?” demanded forest. “they might be sent through the opening over yonder.”
“where be ther men ter send them through?” growled the boss.
[207]
“you have plenty of men here, if you will place them right.”
“mebby you know more about this than i do.”
“i don’t like your tone of voice, sir! put the men out on the jam and have them fend the logs off as fast as they come down, running them round the end.”
“all right,” muttered sullivan, and then he did as ordered.
for two hours the men worked like beavers, and, with the exception of a few logs, there was no great addition to the jam. at last, only an occasional stray log came down, and then forest told sullivan to prepare to break the jam.
“how be ye goin’ to do it?” asked the ugly foreman.
“with dynamite, of course.”
“we ain’t got no dynamite.”
“no dynamite? how is that?”
“well, i didn’t expect another jam after gettin’ down this way, and so i ain’t prepared.”
forest was thoroughly angry, and he gave sullivan the “dressing down” that the man deserved, ending by ordering him to go out and break the jam with an ax.
without a word, sullivan went. he picked out a log and cut it in two. when it cracked, he dropped the ax and hustled ashore. but the jam did not give way.
the foreman swore.
“you cut the wrong log,” said forest, grimly. “try it again, and don’t lose an ax unless the jam breaks.”
so sullivan went out again, but with no better success.
[208]
“i believe i could pick out the key log,” declared frank merriwell, who had been watching proceedings.
the foreman’s face grew purple, and he suppressed a torrent of angry words with an effort.
“we’ll have ter send to the nearest place fer dynamite,” he said. “that’s the only way ter do now.”
then forest gave orders for a man to be dispatched for the dynamite without delay.
the afternoon was slipping away, and it did not look as if the jam would be broken before dark. forest was impatient at the delay.
“i’d like to try a crack at it,” said frank, gazing out upon the mountain of logs. “i believe i could do it.”
“it would be suicide if you did,” said the young lumberman. “you could not get ashore.”
“oh, i don’t know. i’ll chance it.”
sullivan heard the words, and laughed scornfully.
“better let him try it, mr. forest,” he sneered. “there’s no danger that he’ll disturb anything, and he’ll never git hurt unless the jam starts of its own accord. he kin show what he knows in short order by goin’ out there.”
frank did not permit himself to be ruffled in the least, but cheerfully retorted:
“i might show what you didn’t know. so, for your sake, it is possible i hadn’t better try it.”
“rot!” growled the big foreman. “that’s a good way ter squeal. you’d make a holy show of yerself!”
“i’ll wager something that i can break that jam,” said frank.
[209]
“i’ll go you my pay fer ther drive ag’in a dollar that ye can’t,” exclaimed sullivan.
“done!” snapped frank. “forest, i want a pair of boots and an ax. i’ll have a crack at those logs.”
“not on your life!” exclaimed the young lumberman, turning pale. “i wouldn’t think of letting you try such a thing when expert drivers can’t crack the jam.”
frank smiled in a quiet manner.
“i don’t see how i can back out now, old man,” came calmly from his lips. “if i did, it would be the first time in my life, and that would spoil my record.”
“record be hanged!” cried forest. “those are my logs, and i say you can’t try such a foolish trick!”
“oh, he wouldn’t durst to try it, anyway,” sneered the foreman. “if ye let him alone, he’ll back out.”
the young lumberman turned angrily on sullivan, threatening to discharge him if he opened his mouth again. the foreman became quiet, but he gave merriwell a look that stirred all the blood in the latter’s body.
“forest,” said frank, with the same apparent calmness, although he was seething internally, “i never took water in my life, and you are no friend to me if you put me in such a bad light now.”
the drivers had gathered around, all of them hearing what had passed. forest saw some of them grinning in a manner that plainly said they doubted the earnestness of this quiet youth who appeared to desire attempting such a feat.
that was enough to anger forest more than ever. he opened his mouth to say something to the men, and then[210] he suddenly remembered the stories he had heard of the remarkable deeds of frank merriwell. he turned and surveyed frank steadily for some seconds, and when he next spoke it was to order some boots.
“here,” he said to one of the men, “your boots will fit him. take them off.”
the man did so at once. a few moments later merriwell was pulling the boots on.
both diamond and hodge knew it would be useless to attempt to change frank’s determination to go out on the jam, and they did not try.
diamond shook his head, but bart looked confident.
“he’ll do it,” declared hodge, speaking in jack’s ear.
“he may,” confessed the virginian, “but he is sure to be killed.”
“i don’t believe it.”
“he can’t escape. it takes a skillful river driver to do that.”
“he has been through too many dangers to be killed by a pile of logs.”
“the time comes for every man.”
“you are a fatalist.”
“yes.”
“then, if what you believe is true, he will not be killed unless it is his time to die. if it is his time, nothing can save him.”
“that is just the size of it.”
“then he may as well make the attempt.”
jack was not cold-blooded, but he seemed to have imbibed some of merriwell’s coolness now.
[211]
having drawn on the boots, frank took off his coat and vest and cast them aside, throwing his cap upon them.
“bring me an ax.”
one was quickly furnished him.
diamond longed to shake frank’s hand, but he knew merry would not like a scene, and so he refrained.
hans dunnerwust had not said a word, but his appearance seemed to indicate that he fully realized the danger frank was going into.
with the utmost deliberation, merriwell started out upon the jam, springing lightly from log to log, despite the heavy boots.
the crowd on shore watched him in silence.
twice frank, stopped to examine the formation of the jam, and sullivan, unable to keep still longer, sneered:
“he’s tryin’ ter make somebody believe he knows somethin’ about it. it’s more’n even chances he’ll cut one of his own feet open with that ax ther fust clip.”
“he’ll break that jam, whether he ever reaches shore or not,” said jack diamond, savagely.
“rot!” grunted sullivan.
at last frank stopped. he did not begin chopping at once, but again he seemed to be examining the formation of the jam. then he surveyed the distance to the shore.
“bah!” muttered the foreman. “he’s goin’ ter back out!”
then frank was seen to brace himself and swing the[212] ax in the air. in a moment the chips were flying before the lusty blows.
“vale,” grunted hans, “dot don’d look so much like he vos goin’ to back oudt, did id? you don’d knew so much as i thought i did, mister man.”
“well, he’s a fool ter chop on that log,” declared sullivan. “that ain’t ther key.”
“wait and see.”
the men on shore were surprised at the skill with which the lad swung the ax. he did not appear much like a novice, and, after that look toward the shore, he did not survey the distance again.
breathlessly the spectators watched the work go on.
“he must be pretty well through the log,” said some one.
then there was a thunderous crash, and the jam broke.
