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DAVE PORTER IN THE FAR NORTH

will ki—kill, me!" gasped the unfortunate lad under the ruins.

"We'll not let them come down," answered Dave. "Keep perfectly still till I tell you to move."

Messmer did as directed, and Dave and the others inserted the loose log under one end of the ruins. A flat stone was used for the fulcrum, and they bore down slowly but steadily until the larger portion of the ruins was raised several inches.

"It's coming!" cried Dave. "Don't go too fast. Can you loosen yourself now, Messmer?"

"A little. Go a bit higher," was the reply.

They went up two inches more, but now the log began to crack, for the strain upon it was tremendous. Messmer heard the ominous sound, and, with a twist, loosened himself and began to crawl forth. Dave caught him by the arms.

"Out you come," he said, and gave a strong pull. And out Messmer did come, and a moment later the lever snapped in two and the ruins settled back into their former position.

"I—I think I've had a narrow escape," faltered the lucky youth, when he could speak. "Much obliged to you, Dave, for hauling me out."

"Talk about a mule kicking!" declared Henshaw. "He brought this cabin down quick enough."

"The old place was about ready to fall down,"