Jack and Frank regarded each other with distaste and even horror in their eyes.

“Has to be done, though,” said Jack, as if in answer to a remark of Frank’s.

Frank nodded.

“I know.”

“What are you two chumps talking about?” asked Bob.

“Those four men we shot down, you know,” Frank explained.

“Think you—”

Bob’s question went uncompleted.

“I don’t know,” Frank replied. “We shot straight. It was your life and ours against theirs.”

“Well, come on. I know how you feel, but I expect that’s the first thing to be attended to. If any of them is no more than wounded, it will be up to us to do what we can for him.”

“Right, Bob,” said Jack.

“Come on,” Frank said shortly, starting down the hillside, in the direction of their successful, though impromptu, ambuscade.

“Go easy,” warned Bob. “If they’re able to shoot, they’ll take a crack at us.”

Bob’s advice was followed, and the trio approached the spot warily. But precaution was needless, or, while still some distance away, they could see the four bodies outstretched motionless where they had fallen. Frank’s face went white, and he shuddered. Jack was pale. Big Bob, although he had had no hand in the affray, had to take a grip on himself, in order to force his laggard steps to continue. Though many were the affairs of danger in which they had been, the boys had never before shot to kill nor had death been brought so close to them.

Frank stopped. He was trembling violently.

“I—I can’t look at them,” he gasped.

Bob threw an arm over his shoulders.

“You and Jack stay here,” he ordered, gruffly. “I had no hand in this. I’m the fellow to attend to it. Wait for me.”

At that Frank protested, and started to proceed. But Bob shoved him back, kindly but firmly.

“The pair of you have been through enough,” he said. “Do as I say. Wait here.”

And with quick, firm step, keeping himself to the task, he plunged on through the trees. For a moment or two both Frank and Jack watched him fascinatedly, then Frank sank down to a sitting position, elbows propped on his knees, his face in his hands. Jack faced about, and stared unseeing through the trees.

Presently, Bob’s solid, crunching footsteps could be heard approaching, and they looked up. His face was grave, but unflinching.

“Look here, fellows,” he said, firmly, “may as well face the facts. All four were killed instantly. Drilled through the—— But why discuss it? The fact is, they’re dead. They were rascals of the first water, and, as you say, it was their lives or ours. Self-preservation is the first law of Nature. Now, what are we going to do about it? We haven’t any tools to dig with.”

Frank shook himself into alertness.

“Let’s get the axes—our outfit has some—and cut off some spruce boughs and cover them over. Then we can roll some stones on top.”

As quickly as possible, without speaking during the task, and working feverishly, the three carried out Frank’s idea. Then, back at camp, they sat down and brewed a pot of coffee. The hot, scalding liquid steadied their shaken nerves.

“Guess we better try to get in touch with your father, Jack,” suggested Bob, at length.

“How long have they been gone?”

Bob looked at his watch.

“Three hours. Seems like a lifetime.”

“Things have certainly happened fast,” said Frank. “Thank goodness, that party missed our radio. If they had destroyed it, we would have been out of luck.”

“More luck than I deserve,” said Bob, savagely. “Think of going to sleep on the job. If I had been awake, they never would have been able to land.”

“Forget it, Bob. You certainly have nothing to reproach yourself with.”

“Oh, that’s nonsense,” said the big fellow. “I’m always getting you into trouble.”

Frank smiled.

“Yes, and then getting us out again,” he said.

“Well, let’s try the radio, anyway,” suggested Jack. “They’ve been gone three hours. With the best of luck they can’t have made more than eight or ten miles, considering the detour they planned to take, and everything.”

“Couldn’t have gotten that far away in a straight line,” said Frank.

“No, I guess not. But what if they aren’t prepared for a call from us?”

“Oh, with that improved ring set of yours, your father will be proceeding fully equipped to hear from you,” said Frank. “He need only wear the headphone, and I seem to remember he said on leaving that he would keep it on most of the time.”

Jack nodded. The improvement in the ring set, spoken of by Frank, had done away with the necessity for the umbrella aerial.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll call Dad on 200 meters. If he gets the message we ought to hear from him shortly, for he’ll at once unlimber the field transmitting set and call us back.”

While Jack sent out a terse description of the fight and its outcome, Frank and Bob decided to steady their nerves by fishing and went down to the lakeside. They had reasonable success and had pulled out a number of fish when Jack joined them.

“Send out your message, Jack?” Frank inquired.

“Yes, and heard from Father in reply, too.”

“What? Why, great guns, how long have we been here? Surely, you can’t have had time to hear from your father?”

“But, I have,” affirmed Jack. “You’ve been here more than an hour.”

Bob and Frank looked at each other. In all that time, neither had spoken a word. They had just dozed over their lines, pulling in an occasional fish. Frank laughed.

“I guess we went to sleep with our eyes open,” he confessed. “Well, what did your father say?”

“They made a long trek up the lake before crossing over, and are not very far away—somewhere up in that direction—on the other shore, there,” said Jack, pointing. “Dad was worried as the deuce at my story, and they’re coming back.”

“Coming back? Why? It’s all over now.”

“That’s what I told him, Frank. But he’s coming back, anyway. They’re going to get back to the lake, and come straight down to the island. Ought to be here in a couple of hours or less.”

“May as well wait dinner for them, in that case,” observed Bob. “Or what meal is it? Breakfast, lunch, or dinner? I’m sure I don’t know. This perpetual sunshine has me all turned around. I don’t know whether it’s day or night.”

“Same here,” confessed Frank. “I do know, though, that I’m beginning to get up an appetite.” Then a thought, a thought which his somnolent daydreaming over the fishing lines had driven away for the time, crossed his mind, and he paled. “I don’t know though”—catching his breath—“whether I’ll ever want to eat again.”

Jack looked at him sharply. So did Bob. The big fellows noted with apprehension the twisted, stricken look on their slighter chum’s face, and the haunted appearance of his eyes. To Bob’s keen eyes, moreover, two hectic spots glowing brightly in the dark tan of Frank’s cheeks were apparent.

“Look here, old man,” said Bob, anxiously, “you want to quit thinking about that or you’ll be sick.”

“Sick?” Frank tried to force a laugh. “I’m the healthiest invalid ever you saw.”

“No, Frank, I mean it. Put that thought out of your mind, or you will be sick. Why—”laying a hand on his brow—“you’ve got a fever right now.”

Jack was worried, too.

“Great guns, Frank, you must take Bob’s advice. What if you came down sick? We’d be in a pretty fix.”

“Oh, you fellows make me tired,” said Frank, irritatedly. “I’m all right.”

But Bob’s worry was not routed. He took his chum by an arm and started marching him toward camp.

“I’m going to give you a dose of calomel and make you lie down,” he said. “Come on.”

“Calomel? Have a heart.”

“Yes, calomel,” said Bob, firmly. “That’s what you need, that and a nap.”

Picking up the fish, Jack followed. And at the camp, despite Frank’s vehement protests, he was made to swallow a liberal dose of calomel, and then to lie down on a couch of spruce boughs, over him the little tent belonging to Mr. Hampton to provide shade from the northern sun. Jack and Bob sat down, some distance away, and started cleaning the fish. They talked together in low tones. Presently, after several glances toward the motionless figure, Bob arose and tiptoed close to it. On his return, he nodded, smiling slightly, at Jack.

“Asleep,” he said. “Didn’t want to do it, but overworked Nature was too much for him. I’m a little bit worried. His nerves got a severe shock. But I guess he’ll be all right when he wakes up.”

Then he glanced more keenly at Jack.

“Look here, you’ve been through the same experience. I had a nap. Now you’re going to take one. Sleep will be good medicine for you, too. We don’t want two sick ones on our hands.”

Jack didn’t protest, but also turned in beside Frank, and in a few minutes was sound asleep. As Bob had said, overworked Nature claimed her dues.