"Back out! Back out!" shouted Matt, who was quickly made aware that he had committed a blunder. "Be in a hurry, or he'll get sich a start on us that we can't never ketch him. Hold up, there!" he went on, jumping to his feet and swinging his paddle around his head as if he were on the point of launching it at the object of his wrath. "Come back, or it'll be wuss fur you. You hear me, I reckon."
In the meantime Joe made good his landing, and looked over his shoulder to see the heavy paddle coming toward him, end over end. It struck the ground near him, and was immediately sent back where it came from with all the force that the boy's sinewy arm could give it. Flying wide of the mark for which it was intended, the broad blade hit Jake fairly in the face, giving him such a splitting headache that he could not take part in the pursuit that followed. This was another lucky thing for Joe. Jake was the best runner in the squatter's family, and although there is not the slightest doubt that he would have been soundly thrashed if he had succeeded in overtaking Joe, he
