Half man and half tiger that he was, the Black Minorca, as self-appointed leader, reached Bryce first.  The cholo was a squat, powerful little man, with more bounce to him than a rubber ball; leading his men by a dozen yards, he hesitated not an instant but dodged under the blow Bryce lashed out at him and came up inside the latter’s guard, feeling for Bryce’s throat.  Instead he met Bryce’s knee in his abdomen, and forthwith he folded up like an accordion.

The next instant Bryce had stooped, caught him by the slack of the trousers and the scruff of the neck and thrown him, as he had thrown Rondeau, into the midst of the men advancing to his aid.  Three of them went down backward; and Bryce, charging over them, stretched two more with well-placed blows from left and right, and continued on across the clearing, running at top speed, for he realized that for all the desperation of his fight and the losses already inflicted on his assailants, the odds against him were insurmountable.

Seeing him running away, the Laguna Grande woods-men took heart and hope and pursued him.  Straight for the loading donkey at the log-landing Bryce ran.  Beside the donkey stood a neat tier of firewood; in the chopping block, where the donkey-fireman had driven it prior to abandoning his post to view the contest between Bryce and Jules Rondeau, was a double-bitted axe.  Bryce jerked it loose, swung it, whirled on his pursuers, and rushed them.  Like turkeys scattering before the raid of a coyote they fled in divers directions and from a safe distance turned to gaze apprehensively upon this demon they had been ordered to bring in.

Bryce lowered the axe, removed his hat, and mopped his moist brow.  From the centre of the clearing men were crawling or staggering to safety—­with the exception of the Black Minorca, who lay moaning softly.  Colonel Pennington, seeing his fondest hopes expire, lost his head completely.

“Get off my property, you savage,” he shrilled.

“Don’t be a nut, Colonel,” Bryce returned soothingly.  “I’ll get off—­ when I get good and ready, and not a second sooner.  In fact, I was trying to get off as rapidly as I could when you sent your men to bring me back.  Prithee why, old thing?  Didst crave more conversation with me, or didst want thy camp cleaned out?”

He started toward Pennington, who backed hastily away.  Shirley stood her ground, bending upon Bryce, as he approached her, a cold and disapproving glance.  “I’ll get you yet,” the Colonel declared from the shelter of an old stump behind which he had taken refuge.

“Barking dogs never bite, Colonel.  And that reminds me:  I’ve heard enough from you.  One more cheep out of you, my friend, and I’ll go up to my own logging-camp, return here with a crew of bluenoses and wild Irish and run your wops, bohunks, and cholos out of the county.  I don’t fancy the class of labour you’re importing into this county, anyhow.”