No sooner had he seen his precarious situation than he started back, when
Fret Offut flung a heavy slug at his feet. The effect was startling, for
the concussion on the floor sent the menacing bar overhead downward with
fearful force.

Jack succeeded in dodging the blow so far that he escaped the full weight
of the falling iron, which struck the floor endwise with a heavy thud. But
before he could get beyond its reach the massive bar tipped over, falling
in such way as to strike him in the side of the head, and felling him
senseless to the floor.

In a moment Furniss and Offut were bending over him with anxious looks on
their grimy countenances.

"Is he killed?" asked the younger of the twain.

Jack answered the question himself by opening his eyes, though he was
still too bewildered to attempt to rise.

"What did you do that for?" he demanded.

"Do what?" questioned Fret Offut. "You know well enough. You fixed that
bar so it would hit me."

"Hear the boy talk!" came from Furniss. "It is true. If I get the chance--"

"Stop, you shan't get us into trouble," yelled the man, in a rage.

"Not much," put in Offut. "Let's teach him a lesson he won't forget!"