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right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; } +.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } +.toc-pageref { float: right } +.pgmonospaced { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } +</style> +<meta content="Project Gutenberg EPUB-Maker v0.03 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" name="generator"/> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Boss of Wind River, by A. M. Chisholm + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Boss of Wind River + +Author: A. M. Chisholm + +Release Date: December 28, 2010 [EBook #34775] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOSS OF WIND RIVER *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div class="document" id="the-boss-of-wind-river"> +<div class="figure align-center"> +<img alt="images/cover.jpg" src="images/cover.jpg"/> +</div> +<h1 class="title document-title level-1">The Boss of Wind River</h1> +<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> +<div class="figure align-center" id="the-girl-caught-joes-arm-its-going-out-joe-its-going-out-oh-see-it-pull"> +<img alt="images/illus-fpc.jpg" src="images/illus-fpc.jpg"/> +<p class="caption">The girl caught Joe’s arm. “It’s going out,<br />Joe! It’s going out! Oh, see it pull!”</p> +</div> +<hr class="docutils"/> +<p class="align-center larger bold">THE BOSS OF WIND RIVER</p> +<p class="align-center">BY</p> +<p class="align-center larger">A. M. CHISHOLM</p> +<div class="align-center line-block"> +<div class="line"><br/></div> +<div class="line"><br/></div> +<div class="line"><br/></div> +<div class="line"><br/></div> +<div class="line">ILLUSTRATED</div> +<div class="line"><br/></div> +<div class="line">GROSSET & DUNLAP</div> +<div class="line">PUBLISHERS :: NEW YORK</div> +</div> +<div class="align-center smaller line-block"> +<div class="line"><br/></div> +<div class="line"><br/></div> +<div class="line"><br/></div> +<div class="line">ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION</div> +<div class="line">TO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN</div> +<div class="line"><br/></div> +<div class="line">COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY</div> +<div class="line">COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY STREET & SMITH</div> +<div class="line"><br/></div> +<div class="line"><br/></div> +<div class="line"><br/></div> +</div> +<p class="bold">ILLUSTRATIONS</p> +<p><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#the-girl-caught-joes-arm-its-going-out-joe-its-going-out-oh-see-it-pull">The girl caught Joe’s arm. “It’s going out, Joe! It’s going out! Oh, see it pull!”</a></p> +<p><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#miss-crooks-came-down-the-walk-to-meet-him-im-so-glad-to-see-you-joe-ive-been-looking-for-you-for-days">Miss Crooks came down the walk to meet him ... “I’m so glad to see you, Joe. I’ve been looking for you for days”</a></p> +<p><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#haggarty-and-rough-shan-locked-in-a-deadly-grip-fought-like-bulldogs">Haggarty and Rough Shan, locked in a deadly grip, fought like bulldogs</a></p> +<p><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#theres-the-line-cross-it-to-night-or-try-to-scrap-with-mccanes-crew-before-i-tell-you-to-and-ill-shut-down">“There’s the line. Cross it to-night or try to scrap with McCane’s crew before I tell you to, and I’ll shut down”</a></p> +<div class="section" id="i"> +<h2 class="title section-title level-2">I</h2> +<p>As young Joe Kent entered the office of +the Kent Lumber Company at nine +o’clock he was conscious of a sudden +pause in the morning’s work. He felt rather +than saw that the eyes of every employee were +fixed upon him with an interest he had never before +excited. And the quality of this interest, +as he felt it, was curiously composite. In it +there was a new respect, but mingled with misgivings; +a sympathy repressed by the respect; +a very dubious weighing of him, a comparison, +a sizing up—a sort of mental shake of the head, +as if the chances were in favour of his proving +decidedly light in the balance; and running +through it all was a waiting expectancy, frankly +tinged with curiosity.</p> +<p>Kent nodded a somewhat embarrassed, comprehensive +good morning, and as he did so a +thick-set, grizzled man came forward and shook +hands. This was Wright, the office and mill +manager.</p> +<p>“The personal and important mail is on your +desk, Mr. Kent,” he said. “Later I suppose you +will want to go into the details of the business.”</p> +<p>“I expect Mr. Locke about ten o’clock,” +Kent replied. “I thought we might have a little +talk together then, if you have time.”</p> +<p>Wright smiled a little sadly. “My time is +yours, you know. Just let me know when you +want me.”</p> +<p>Kent opened the door of the private office that +had been his father’s, stepped in, and shut it. +He glanced half expectantly at the big, leather-cushioned +revolving chair behind the broad, +flat-topped desk on which the morning’s mail +lay neatly stacked. The chair was empty. It +came to him in a keen, stabbing pain that whenever +in future he should enter this office which +was now his, the chair would be empty—that +the big, square, kindly, keen-eyed man whose +business throne it had been would sit in it no +more.</p> +<p>He seated himself at the desk, branded to right +and left by countless cigars carelessly laid down, +and drew the pile of correspondence to him. The +topmost envelope bore no stamp, and as he saw +his name upon it in the familiar, bold handwriting, +his heart pounded and a lump rose in his throat. +The fingers which slid a paper cutter beneath +the flap were a trifle unsteady. He read:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<p><span class='small-caps'>My Dear Boy</span>: Locke will see that you get this when I have gone +out. It is just a little personal note which I like to think you will +be glad to read.</p> +<p>I am not going to begin by apologizing for the fact that I leave +behind me less money than most people, including myself, expected. +There will be enough to give you a start and keep you hustling, which +will do you no harm. You’ll find it easier to hustle now than later. +But, nevertheless, a word of explanation is due you.</p> +<p>As you grow older you will observe that when the ordinary man +acquires a comfortable stack at his own game he is seized with an +unaccountable desire to play another man’s game, at which he +usually loses. It turned out so with me. I know the logging business; +but I didn’t know, and don’t know, the stock market. I +lost and I have no kick coming. It serves me right, but it may be +a little hard on you. If that Power which put me in this world had +seen fit to allow me to remain in it for a few years I would have stuck +exclusively to my own last and repaired the damage. As it is I am +warned that I must go out inside six months, and may do so at any +earlier moment. It is in contemplation of the latter possibility +that I write you now. Afterward I intend to go into business details +with Locke. You may tie to him and Crooks. They are both white +men. Don’t be too proud to consult them occasionally. And if +they both think one way and you think the other, make up your +mind you’re wrong.</p> +<p>At a rough estimate, setting the present value of my assets against +my liabilities, there should be a credit balance of fifty or sixty +thousand dollars. That is lumping the whole thing—mills, timber +limits, camp equipments, real estate, and so on. If you sold out +everything you should get that much clear cash, perhaps more. +But I hope you won’t sell. For one thing the assets will increase in +value. The water powers I own will be worth a fortune some day. +And then I want you to carry on the business because I think you’ll +like it. You’ll make mistakes, of course; but in a few years or less +I am certain you will have lifted the incumbrances with which my +folly has saddled the concern, and you will begin to lay up a competence +against the time when your chief regret at leaving this world +will be that you must become only a memory to some one whom you +love.</p> +<p>Preaching isn’t my forte, and I am not trying to write a letter +which shall be a guide through life under all conceivable conditions. +But one or two hints may not be amiss. Such as they are I’ve +bought ’em with my own money and paid mighty dear for some of +them.</p> +<p>Remember this: Straight business is good business, and crooked +business isn’t, no matter how much money you make at it. Apart +from ethics there’s a come-back with it, every time. A very fair +test of the rectitude or otherwise of any deal is this: How will it +look in print beneath a good scare head? If you don’t mind the +answer, it’s probably all right. If you do, it’s apt to be mostly wrong, +no matter how expensive a lawyer drew the papers.</p> +<p>Be steady. Don’t let any man or thing rattle you into unconsidered +action. Take your own time; it’s just as easy to make other +people wait for you as to wait for them, but don’t keep them standing. +Know as much of other people’s business as is consistent with +minding your own. When any man offers you a gilt-edged snap, +try to figure out why he doesn’t keep it all for himself; and if the +answer is that he likes you, guess again. If you ever feel that you’re +beaten and want to quit, make sure that the other fellow isn’t +feeling worse; one more punch will help you to make sure. Get +your fun as you go along. And now and then, Joe, old boy, when +the sun is bright on the river and woods and the fish are leaping and +the birds are flying and the tang of the open air makes life taste extra +good, take time for a thought of him who was your loving father.</p> +<p class="attribution">― William Kent.</p> +</div></blockquote> +<p>Young Kent choked suddenly, put down the +letter, and stared out of the window at a landscape +which had become very indistinct and misty. +Before him lay the silver bosom of the river, +checkered with the long, black lines of the booms +stretching from shore to anchor-pier, great water +corrals for the herds of shaggy, brown logs that +were driven down from their native forests every +spring. The morning breeze, streaming through +the open window, was laden with the clean, penetrating, +never-to-be-forgotten odour of newly +cut pine. The air was vibrant with the deep +hum of distant machinery. The thunderous +roll of the log-carriages, the high-pitched whine +of the planers, the sharp notes of edgers and trimmers, +blended into one grand harmony; and shouting +through it at exactly spaced intervals came +the sustained, ripping crash of the great saws +as their teeth bit into the flesh of some forest +giant, bound and prostrate on an iron bed of +torment.</p> +<p>As he looked and listened, his eyes cleared of +mists. For the first time he realized dimly that +it was worth while. That the sounds he heard +were part of a great song, a Song of Progress; the +triumphant, virile song of the newest and greatest +of nations, ringing from sea to sea across the +breadth of a continent as it built itself, self-sustaining, +strong, enduring.</p> +<p>And young Joe Kent, standing by the window +facing his inheritance, was a fair representative +of the average young American who works with +his hands or with his head, and more often with +both. There was nothing striking about him. +He was of medium height, of medium weight, of +medium good looks. From the top of his close-clipped +brown head to the toes of his polished +brown boots he was neat and trim and healthy +and sound. Only, looking closer, an accurate +observer might have noticed a breadth of shoulder +and a depth of chest not apparent at first +glance, and a sweep of lean jaw and set of mouth +at variance with the frank, boyish good humour +of the tanned face and brown eyes.</p> +<p>Kent left the window, settled himself in his +father’s seat with as business-like an air as he +could assume, and proceeded to wade through +the pile of correspondence.</p> +<p>In five minutes he was hopelessly bewildered. +It was much less intelligible to him than Greek, +for he was beautifully ignorant of the details of +his father’s business. It had been an understood +thing between them that some day, in a year or +two—no hurry at all about it—he should +enter that office and master the details of that +business against the time—how far off it looked +then!—when it should devolve upon him to +conduct it. But they had both put it off. He +was young, just through college. A year of +travel was merely a proper adjunct to a not particularly +brilliant academic degree. And in the +midst of it had come the cablegram summoning +him home, where he arrived a scant twenty-four +hours before his father’s death.</p> +<p>And now, William Kent having been laid to +rest on the sunny slope where the great, plumed +elms whispered messages with every summer +breeze to the dead below them, his son was +called to con the business ship through unknown +waters, without any knowledge of navigation or +even of ordinary seamanship.</p> +<p>The letters which he scanned, reading the words +but not getting the sense because he had not the +remotest idea of what they were about, were +for the most part exceedingly terse and business-like. +They were the morning cream of the correspondence, +skimmed from the mass by the +practised hand of Wright, the manager; letters +which, in the ordinary course of business, go +direct to the head of the house to be passed upon.</p> +<p>But in this case the head of the house had rather +vaguer ideas than his office boy as to how they +should be handled. They dealt with timber +berths, with logs, with lumber, with contracts +made and to be made; in fact with almost everything +that Joe Kent knew nothing about and with +nothing that he knew anything about. And so, +in utter despair, he was on the point of summoning +Wright to elucidate matters when, after an +emphatic rap, the door opened, admitting a burly, +red-faced man of fifty.</p> +<p>This was Locke. He had the appearance of a +prosperous farmer, and he was an exceedingly +busy lawyer, with the reputation of a relentless +fighter when once he took a case. He had been +William Kent’s friend as well as his legal adviser.</p> +<p>“Well, Joe,” said he, “getting into harness +already?”</p> +<p>“I can get into it easy enough,” Joe replied; +“but it’s a lot too big for me.”</p> +<p>Locke nodded. “You’ll grow. When I started +I didn’t know any more about law than you do +about logs. You got that letter?”</p> +<p>“Yes, thanks. He said I might tie to you and +Crooks.”</p> +<p>Locke looked out of the window because his +eyes were filling. To disguise the fact he pretended +to search his pockets for a cigar and +growled:</p> +<p>“So you may, within limits. Got a smoke +there? I’m out.” He lit one of William Kent’s +big, black cigars, leaned back in his chair, and +crossed one leg over the other. “Now, then, Joe, +where shall we start?” he asked. “I’m busy, +and you ought to be. What do you know of +your father’s affairs, anyway?”</p> +<p>“Almost nothing,” young Kent admitted. +“Say I don’t know anything, and it will be about +right. This letter hints at debts—mortgages +and things, I suppose.”</p> +<p>“Mortgages and things!” repeated the lawyer. +“Lord, what an unsophisticated young blood +you are! I should say there were. Now here +it is, as your father explained it to me.”</p> +<p>Kent tried to follow the lawyer’s practised +analysis, but did not altogether succeed. Three +things emerged clearly. The mills, plant, and +real estate were heavily mortgaged. There was +an indebtedness to the Commercial Bank on notes +made by William Kent and endorsed by Crooks. +And there was a further indebtedness to them on +Kent’s notes alone, secured by a collateral mortgage +on certain timber lands.</p> +<p>“Now, you see,” Locke concluded, “setting +the assets against the liabilities you are solvent +to the extent of sixty or seventy thousand dollars, +or perhaps more. In all probability you could +get that clear if you sold out. Properly managed +for you by somebody else, it would yield an income +of between three and four thousand dollars +per annum. On that you could live comfortably, +be free from worry, and die of dry-rot and Scotch +highballs at about my age.”</p> +<p>“I’m going to run the business,” said Joe. +“My father wished it; and anyway I’m going to.”</p> +<p>Locke smoked thoughtfully for some moments. +“That’s good talk,” he said at length. “I understand +your feelings. But before you come to a +definite conclusion take time to look at all sides +of the question. The cold fact is that you have +had no experience. The business is solvent, but +too involved to give you much leeway. It is an +expensive one to run, and you can’t afford to make +many mistakes. For seven months in the year +your payroll and camp supply bill will run into +five figures. Your father intended to make a +big cut next winter and clear off some of the debt. +Suppose you try that yourself. It means a big +outlay. Can you swing it? Remember, you +haven’t got much rope; and if you fail and smash +it won’t be a case of living on three or four thousand +a year, but of earning five or six hundred a +year to live on.”</p> +<p>“I hadn’t thought of it in just that way,” +said Kent. “You see it’s all new to me. But +I’m going into it, sink or swim. My mind’s +made up.”</p> +<p>“I thought it would be,” said Locke with +satisfaction. “If I were you I’d take Wright +into my confidence from the start. He is a +good man, and thinks as much of your interests +as if they were his own.”</p> +<p>Wright, called in, listened to Locke’s succinct +statement without much surprise. “Of course, +I knew these things already in a general way,” +he commented.</p> +<p>“I have decided to carry on the business,” +Joe told him. “What do you think of it?”</p> +<p>“The carrying or the business?”</p> +<p>“Both.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Wright slowly, “the business +might be in worse shape—a lot worse. With +your father handling it there would be no trouble. +With you—I don’t know.”</p> +<p>“That’s not very encouraging,” said Joe, +endeavouring to smile at Locke, an effort not +entirely successful. Locke said nothing.</p> +<p>“I don’t mean to be discouraging,” said Wright. +“It’s a fact. I <em>don’t</em> know. You see, you’ve +never had a chance; you’ve no experience.”</p> +<p>“Well, I’m after it now,” said Kent. “Will +you stay with me while I get it?”</p> +<p>“Of course I will,” said Wright heartily.</p> +<p>When Locke had gone Joe turned to his +manager.</p> +<p>“Now,” he said, “will you please tell me what +I ought to know about the business, just what +we have on hand and what we must do to keep +going? I don’t know a thing about it, and I’m +here to learn. I’ve got to. Make it as simple +as you can. I’m not going to pretend I understand +if I don’t. Therefore I’ll probably ask a +lot of fool questions. You see, I’m showing you +my hand, and I own up to you that there’s nothing +in it. But I won’t show it to any one else. +When I want to know things I’ll come to you; +but for all other people know to the contrary I’ll +be playing my own game. That is, till I’m capable +of running the business without advice I’ll +run it on yours. I’ve got to make a bluff, and +this is the only way I see of doing it. What do +you think?”</p> +<p>“I think,” said Wright, “that it’s the best +thing you can do, though I wouldn’t have suggested +it myself. I’ll give you the best I’ve got. +An hour ago I was rather doubtful, but now I +think you’ve got it in you to play a mighty good +game of your own one of these days.”</p> +<p>Whereupon old Bob Wright and young Joe +Kent shook hands with mutual respect—Wright +because he had found that Kent was not a self-sufficient +young ass, and Kent because Wright +had treated him as a man instead of merely as an +employer.</p> +</div> +<div class="section" id="ii"> +<h2 class="title section-title level-2">II</h2> +<p>In the course of a few weeks Joe Kent began +to feel that he was making some progress. +The business was no longer a mysterious +machine that somehow produced money for his +needs. It became a breathing, throbbing creature, +sensitive to the touch, thriving with attention, +languishing with neglect. It was a delicate +organism, wonderfully responsive to the handling. +Every action, every word, every hastily dictated +letter had far reaching results. Conscientiously +and humbly, as became a beginner, he came to +the study of it.</p> +<p>He began to meet his men. Not those with +whom he came in daily contact in the office; but +his foremen, tanned, weather-beaten, level-eyed +logging bosses, silent for the most part, not at +all certain how to take the “Old Man’s” son, +and apparently considering “yes” and “no” +perfectly adequate contributions to conversation, +who consumed his proffered cigars, kept their +own opinions, and went their several ways.</p> +<p>Kent was conscious that he was being held at +arm’s length; conscious that the steady eyes took +note of his smart shoes, his well-pressed clothes, +and his smooth cheeks. He did not know that +the same critical eyes also noted approvingly +his broad shoulders, deep chest, and firm jaw. +He felt that the questions he asked and the conversation +he tried to make were not the questions +and conversation which his father would have +addressed to them. But he was building better +than he knew.</p> +<p>Many old friends of William Kent dropped in +to shake hands with his son, and one morning +Joe was handed the card of Mr. Stanley +Ackerman.</p> +<p>“Tell him to walk in,” said Joe.</p> +<p>Mr. Ackerman walked in. He was tall and +slim and gray and accurately dressed. Mr. +Ackerman’s business, if his varied pursuits might +be thus consolidated, was that of a Director of +Enterprises. He was on all sorts of directorates +from banks to hospitals. He had promoted +or caused to be promoted many corporate activities. +He was identified in one way and another +with a dozen financial and industrial concerns. +He was the confidential friend and twin brother +of Capital; and he was smooth, very smooth.</p> +<p>His handshake expressed tender, delicate +sympathy.</p> +<p>“I should have called sooner, Mr. Kent, +after the recent melancholy event,” said he, “but +that I feared to intrude. I knew your father +very well, very well indeed. I hope to know his +son as well—or better. These changes come +to us all, but I was shocked, deeply shocked. I +assure you, Mr. Kent, I—was—shocked.”</p> +<p>“Sit down, won’t you?” said Joe. “Have a +cigar?”</p> +<p>“Not in the morning, thank you,” said Ackerman. +“My constitution won’t stand it now. +Don’t mind me, though.”</p> +<p>He watched Joe strike a match. His gaze +was very keen and measuring, as if the young man +were a problem of some sort to be solved.</p> +<p>“And how do you find it going?” he asked. +“Quite a change for you, to be saddled with a +big business at a moment’s notice. If I recollect, +you were at college till very recently. Yes? +Unfortunate. Not that I would deprecate the +value of education. Not at all. A most excellent +thing. Fine training for the battle of +life. But at the same time scarcely a practical +preparation for the duties you have been called +on so suddenly to assume.”</p> +<p>“That’s a fact,” said Joe. “Just at present +I’d trade a couple of the years I spent there for +one in the office. However, I’m learning slowly. +Doing the best I can, you know.”</p> +<p>“No doubt, no doubt,” returned Ackerman +cordially. “If I had a son—I am sorry I haven’t—and +Providence in its inscrutable wisdom +saw fit to remove me—we never can tell; as the +Good Book says, Death comes like a thief in the +night—that is how I would wish him to face the +world. Bravely and modestly, as you are doing. +No doubt you feel your responsibilities, eh?”</p> +<p>“Well, yes,” Joe admitted. “I have my +experience to get, and the concern is pretty large. +Naturally it worries me a little.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said Mr. Ackerman thoughtfully, “it’s +a pity your father never took action along the +lines of a conversation I had with him a few +months ago. I expressed surprise that he had +never turned his business into a joint stock company, +and—rather to <em>my</em> surprise I confess, +for he was a little old-fashioned in such matters—he +said he had been thinking of doing so. +He observed, and very truly, that he was as +capable of managing his own affairs as any board +of directors, but that if anything happened to +him, such experienced advice would be of inestimable +benefit to you. And then he spoke of the +limited liability feature as desirable. Looking +back at that conversation,” said Mr. Ackerman +with a gentle sigh, “it almost seems as if he had +a premonition. I assure you that he spoke with +the greatest earnestness, as if he had thought +the matter over carefully and arrived at a definite +conclusion. And yet I suppose nothing +has been done in that direction, yet?”</p> +<p>No, nothing had been done, Joe told him. In +fact, this was the first intimation he had had +that such a thing had entered his father’s +thoughts.</p> +<p>That, said Mr. Ackerman, was too bad. It +was a great responsibility for a young man—too +great. Now, a board of experienced directors +would share it, and they would have an active +interest in advising properly.</p> +<p>“Meaning that the advice I get now isn’t +proper?” asked Joe, with just a little tightening +of the mouth.</p> +<p>“Meaning nothing of the sort,” Ackerman +hastened to disclaim. “Don’t misunderstand +me. But you must admit that it is irresponsible. +In the long run you pay the piper.”</p> +<p>“That’s true enough,” Joe admitted. “In +the end it’s up to me, of course.”</p> +<p>“Just so,” said Mr. Ackerman. “That is +what your father foresaw and intended to provide +against. If he had been spared a few months +longer I believe he would have formed a company, +retaining the controlling interest himself, so that +you might have had the benefit of the advice +of a board of experienced directors.”</p> +<p>Joe Kent was quite sure his father would not +have done anything of the kind, but he did not +say so.</p> +<p>Ackerman bestowed on him another measuring +glance and proceeded:</p> +<p>“You see, Mr. Kent, business history shows +that, generally speaking, the collective wisdom +of half a dozen men is greater than that of the +individual. The exceptions only prove the rule. +The weak points in any proposition rarely get +past half a dozen experienced men. And then +we must remember that influence makes for +success. Naturally the influence of half a dozen +representative men helps to get business as it +helps the business to buy cheaply, and as it helps +to transact business properly. Why,”—here +Mr. Ackerman became prophetic—”I venture +to say, Mr. Kent, that if this business of yours +were turned into a joint stock company and the +proper gentlemen interested, its volume would +double in a very short time.“</p> +<p>“Perhaps so,” said Joe doubtfully.</p> +<p>“Why not do it?” said Mr. Ackerman, seizing +the psychological moment. “I would take stock +myself. I think I know of others who would. +And as to forming and organizing the company, +I need not say that any small knowledge I +may have of such matters is entirely at your +service.”</p> +<p>“Very good of you,” said Joe. “It’s a new idea +to me. I don’t think, though, that I quite like +it. This is my business now, and I run it. If +a company were formed I couldn’t do that. I’d +have to do as I was told. Of course I understand +I’d have votes according to what stock I held, +but it wouldn’t be the same thing.”</p> +<p>“Nominally different only,” Ackerman assured +him. “Very properly you would retain a majority +of the shares—that is, a controlling interest. +Then you’d be made managing director, at a +good salary. No doubt that would be the arrangement. +So that you would have an assured income, +a dividend on your stock, and practical +control of the business, as well as the advice of +experienced men and consequent freedom from +a good deal of worry. If I were in your place—speaking +as one who has seen a good many ups +and downs in business—I should not hesitate.”</p> +<p>But in spite of this personal clinching argument +young Kent did hesitate. And this hesitation +so much resembled a plain mulish balk that Mr. +Ackerman was a trifle disconcerted. Nevertheless +he beamed upon the young man with tolerant +good nature.</p> +<p>“Well, well, a new proposition,” said he. +“Take time to think it over—take plenty of +time. You must see its advantages. New capital +brought in would permit the business to expand. +It would pay off the debts——”</p> +<p>“Debts!” said young Kent icily. “What +debts?”</p> +<p>“Why—ah”—Mr. Ackerman was again +slightly disconcerted—“you must be aware of +the mortgages existing, Mr. Kent.”</p> +<p>“I am,” said Kent, “but how do you know +about them? What business are they of yours?”</p> +<p>“Tut, tut!” said Ackerman reprovingly. “I +read a weekly commercial report, like other +men. The mortgages are no secret.”</p> +<p>“I beg your pardon,” said Kent. “I shouldn’t +have spoken as I did. Fact is, I’m a little touchy +on that subject.”</p> +<p>“Needlessly so,” said Ackerman. “Most of +my own property is mortgaged, and I don’t consider +it a disgrace. I can use the money to better +advantage in other ways. Well, as I was saying, +the new capital would expand the business, the +advice of experienced gentlemen would make +things easy for you; and if the property was put +in at a good, liberal valuation—as of course +it would be—your holding would be worth more +than it is to-day.”</p> +<p>“That is, the experienced gentlemen would +water the stock,” said Kent.</p> +<p>Mr. Ackerman reddened a little. “A liberal +valuation isn’t water,” he replied. “Those who +would buy into the concern wouldn’t be apt to +give you too much. Of course, they would +desire to be perfectly fair.”</p> +<p>“Oh, of course,” said Kent. “Well, Mr. +Ackerman, I don’t think we need discuss the +matter further, for I’ve decided to keep on paddling +my own little canoe.”</p> +<p>“Think it over, think it over,” Ackerman urged.</p> +<p>“I have thought it over,” said Joe. “You see, +Mr. Ackerman, I may not know much about this +business, but I don’t know any more about +any other. So I might as well stick to it.”</p> +<p>“The plan I have outlined”—Ackerman began.</p> +<p>“I don’t like,” Kent put in, smiling. “My +position is this: I want to handle this business +myself and make a success at it. I expect to +make mistakes, but not the same mistake twice. +I’m awfully obliged for your interest, but to be +told what to do by a board of directors would +spoil all my fun.”</p> +<p>“Fun!” echoed Mr. Ackerman, horrified. “My +dear sir, business—is—not—fun!”</p> +<p>“It is for me—about the bulliest fun I ever +had in my life,” said young Kent. “I never +played a game I liked as well.”</p> +<p>Mr. Ackerman shook his head sadly. The +young man was hopeless. “I suppose,” he said +casually, as he rose to go, “that in the event of a +syndicate offering you a fair price for the whole +concern, lock, stock, and barrel, you wouldn’t +sell?”</p> +<p>“No, I don’t think so,” Joe replied.</p> +<p>“Ah, well, youth is ever sanguine,” said Mr. +Ackerman. “Your energy and confidence do +you credit, Mr. Kent, though I’m rather sorry +you won’t entertain the company idea. We +could make this a very big business on that basis. +Perhaps, later, you may come around to it. +Anyway, I wish you luck. If I can assist you +in any way at any time just let me know. Good +morning. <em>Good</em> morning! Remember, in <em>any</em> +way, at <em>any</em> time.”</p> +<p>Joe, from his favourite position at the window, +saw Mr. Ackerman emerge from the building +and begin his dignified progress down the street.</p> +<p>“I didn’t like his stock proposition,” he +thought, “but I guess he isn’t a bad old sport at +bottom. Seems to mean well. I’m sorry I was +rude to him.”</p> +<p>Just then Mr. Ackerman, looking up, caught +his eye. Joe waved a careless, friendly hand. +Mr. Ackerman so far forgot his dignity as to +return the friendly salute, and smiled upward +benignantly.</p> +<p>“The damned young pup!” said Mr. Ackerman +behind his smile.</p> +</div> +<div class="section" id="iii"> +<h2 class="title section-title level-2">III</h2> +<p>William Crooks, the old lumberman +who had been the friend of the elder +Kent, was big and broad and burly, +and before the years had silvered his mane it was +as red as any danger flag that ever wagged athwart +steel rails. He held strong opinions, he used +strong language, he was swift to anger, he feared +no man on earth, and he knew the logging business +from stump to market.</p> +<p>He inhabited a huge, square, brick structure +that would have given an architect chronic +nightmare. Twenty odd years before he had +called to him one Dorsey, by trade a builder. +“Dorsey,” said Crooks, “I want you to build +me a house.”</p> +<p>Dorsey, who was a practical man, removed +his pipe, scratched his head and asked: “What +of?”</p> +<p>“Red brick,” said Crooks. He held out a +sheet of foolscap. “Here’s the number of rooms +and the sizes of them.”</p> +<p>Dorsey scanned the paper. “What do you +want her to cost?”</p> +<p>“What she’s worth, and a fair profit to you,” +said Crooks. “Get at her and finish her by frost. +I’ll want to move in by then.”</p> +<p>“All right,” said Dorsey. “She’ll be ready +for you.”</p> +<p>By frost “she” was finished, and Crooks moved +in. There he had lived ever since; and there he +intended to live as long as he could. Kindly +time had partially concealed the weird creation +of Dorsey’s brain by trees and creepers; here and +there an added veranda or bow window was +offered in mitigation of the original crime; but +its stark, ungraceful outline remained a continual +offence to the eye. That was outside. +Inside it was different. The rooms were big and +airy and well lighted. There was an abundance of +open fireplaces, as became the residence of a man +whose life had been spent in devastating forests, +and the furniture and furnishings were practical +and comfortable, for Bill Crooks hated “frills.”</p> +<p>In that house his children were born, and +there three of them and his wife died. There +Jean, his youngest girl, grew to womanhood, a +straight, lithe, slender, dark-haired young tyrant, +with his own fearlessness and directness of +speech. She was known to her intimates as +“Jack,” and she and Joe Kent had been friends +all their young lives.</p> +<p>Since coming home Kent had seen little of +her. He was very busy mastering details of +the business, and either went back to his office +in the evenings or spent them quietly at the club. +But on the day of his interview with Mr. Ackerman +it occurred to him that he should call upon +Jack Crooks.</p> +<p>When he opened the gate that evening he saw +that the wide veranda was well occupied. Four +young men were making exceedingly light conversation +to two young women. William Crooks +was nowhere visible. Miss Crooks came down +the walk to meet him, and held out two slim hands +in welcome.</p> +<p>“I’m so glad to see you, Joe. I’ve been looking +for you for days.”</p> +<p>“You see, I’ve been busy,” said Kent. “And +then, naturally, I haven’t been going out much.”</p> +<p>She nodded sympathetic comprehension. “I +understand, of course. Come up and be presented. +I have a very charming visitor.”</p> +<p>“Any one I know?”</p> +<p>“Edith Garwood. She’s my guest for a few +weeks. Have you met her?”</p> +<p>Joe had never met Miss Garwood. He decided +as he shook hands with her that this was his +distinct loss. Edith Garwood was tall and fair +and blue eyed, with the dainty bloom and colouring +of a flower. Her smile was simply distracting. +Her voice was low and musical, and her laughter +carried a little trill that stuck in the memory like +the first bird notes of spring. She seemed to be +one of those rare girls who are made to be loved +by everybody, madly adored by several, and finally +captured by some undeservingly lucky man.</p> +<div class="figure align-center" id="miss-crooks-came-down-the-walk-to-meet-him-im-so-glad-to-see-you-joe-ive-been-looking-for-you-for-days"> +<img alt="images/illus-032.jpg" src="images/illus-032.jpg"/> +<p class="caption">Miss Crooks came down the walk to meet him ...<br />“I’m so glad to see you, Joe. I’ve been looking for you for days”</p> +</div> +<p>At that moment she was holding a little court. +Mallane, a young lawyer; Drew, of Drew & Son; +Leadly, whose chief occupation was the dissemination +of his father’s money, which he had +almost accomplished; and young Jolly, who +honoured a bank with his presence by day, clustered +around her closely. Each was quite positive +that her glances and laughter held a meaning for +him which the others did not share. The charmed +circle, momentarily broken by the entrance of +Kent, closed again. They talked at Miss Garwood, +they postured at her, and when, now and then, +they remembered the existence of their young hostess +and included her in the conversation, it was +evidently as a matter of duty only. Just then +Edith Garwood was the only star in all the heavens.</p> +<p>Joe drew chairs for himself and Miss Jack just +outside the group.</p> +<p>“Well?” she asked.</p> +<p>“Quite, thank you.”</p> +<p>“I didn’t mean that. Is it love at first sight +with you, too?”</p> +<p>“No chance for me,” laughed Joe. “Competition +is too keen. Besides, Jack, I’ve been +in love with you for years.”</p> +<p>“Nonsense!” she said, so sharply that he looked +at her in surprise. “I waive my prior claim,” +she added, with a laugh. “Confess, Joe! Isn’t +she the prettiest girl you ever saw?”</p> +<p>“She seems to be a good deal of a peach,” Joe +admitted. “Is she related to Hugh Garwood, +the president of the O. & N. Railway?”</p> +<p>“Daughter,” said Jack briefly. “His only +child.”</p> +<p>Joe grinned. “Which probably accounts for +the obvious devotion of Mallane and Leadly.”</p> +<p>“Don’t be so cynical; it isn’t nice. She +can’t help it, can she?”</p> +<p>“Of course not. I was speaking of the men.”</p> +<p>“Well, she’s very pretty and charming. If +I were a young man I’d fall in love with +her. It wouldn’t surprise me a bit to see you +smitten.”</p> +<p>Joe reddened a trifle, conscious that while he +had been talking to Jack his eyes had been on +Miss Garwood. Once or twice her glance had +met his and she had given him a friendly smile. +It seemed to hint at an understanding between +them—as if she would have been very glad to +have him change places with one of the others. +And yet it was absolutely frank and open.</p> +<p>Kent, being an average young man, did not +analyze the quality of it. He merely felt that +he liked Edith Garwood, and she probably did +not dislike him. At the same time he began to +feel a slight aversion to the four men who monopolized +her; but he explained this to himself +quite honestly on the ground that it was boorish +of them to neglect Jack Crooks for a guest, no +matter how charming the latter might be. His +reply to Jack’s prediction was interrupted by +William Crooks.</p> +<p>“Well, young people,” said the old lumberman, +emerging upon the veranda, “why don’t you come +into the house and have some music?”</p> +<p>“It’s cooler out here, dad,” said Jack. “Sit +down and make yourself at home and have a +smoke. Here’s Joe.”</p> +<p>Crooks laid a huge hand on Kent’s shoulder. +“I want to talk over some business with you, +Joe. You won’t mind if I take him away for half +an hour, Jack?”</p> +<p>“Not a bit, dad. Don’t keep him all night, +though.”</p> +<p>“I won’t,” he promised, smiling at her fondly. +“Come on, Joe. We’ll go to the library.”</p> +<p>William Crooks’s library held few books. Such +as there were mainly dealt with the breeding, +training, and diseases of horses and dogs. Stuffed +birds and fish, guns and rods adorned the walls. +A huge table in the centre of the room bore a +mass of papers in which pipes, cartridge cases, +trout flies, and samples of various woods mingled +in gorgeous confusion. Crooks laid an open box +of cigars on top of the disarray.</p> +<p>“Well, Joe,” he asked, “how you makin’ it?”</p> +<p>“I don’t quite know yet,” Kent replied. “I’m +just beginning to learn the ropes around the +office. So far I like it.”</p> +<p>“You’ll like it better,” said Crooks. “You +come to me if you get stuck; but work things out +for yourself if you can. Now, about those +notes I’ve indorsed!”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Kent. “I don’t see how I’m to +take them up just yet.”</p> +<p>“Nobody wants you to,” said Crooks. “Your +father helped me out often enough. I was doing +the same for him, and what I’d do for him I’ll +do for you. Don’t worry about the notes or +renewals. Only—I may as well talk straight +to you, Joe—I don’t want to increase my +liabilities without I have to. Understand, if +it’s a case of need I’ll back you up to any amount +in reason, but if you can worry along without +more accommodation I wish you would.”</p> +<p>“It’s very good of you,” said Joe. “I’ll try +to get along. Anyway, I never thought of asking +you for more endorsements.”</p> +<p>“Well, you think of it if you need them,” said +Crooks gruffly. “Come to me as if I were your +father, boy. I’ll go with you as far as I would +with him, and that’s to the rim-ice of Hades.”</p> +<p>For acknowledgment Joe took his hand and +shook it, an action which embarrassed the old +lumber baron exceedingly.</p> +<p>“All right, all right,” he growled. “Don’t be +a blamed young fool. I’m not going away anywhere.”</p> +<p>Joe laughed. “I’m glad of that. I’ll ask your +advice pretty often, Mr. Crooks. By the way, +what would you think of turning my business into +a joint stock company? I don’t fancy the idea +myself.”</p> +<p>“Who’s been talking to you?” demanded +Crooks.</p> +<p>“Well, Mr. Ackerman dropped in this morning.”</p> +<p>“What did he want?”</p> +<p>“I don’t suppose he wanted anything in +particular. He just happened in, being in town. +This came up in the course of conversation.”</p> +<p>“Son,” said Crooks, “Ackerman doesn’t go +anywhere or see anybody without he wants +something. You tie into that. What did he +talk about?”</p> +<p>Joe told him. Crooks listened intently, chewing +his cigar.</p> +<p>“He suggested the same thing to your father, +and your father refused to consider it,” he said. +“Now he comes to you. Huh!” He smoked +in silence for several moments. “I wonder +what his game is?” he concluded thoughtfully.</p> +<p>“Why, I suppose if he organized the company +he’d get a block of stock for his services,” said +Joe, and he thought the comment particularly +shrewd. “That’s all I see in it, Mr. Crooks.”</p> +<p>“You don’t know a thing about it,” growled +the lumberman bluntly. “If you fell in with +his proposition he’d kick you out when he got +ready.”</p> +<p>“No,” said Joe. “He suggested that I retain +a majority of the shares.”</p> +<p>Crooks eyed him pityingly. “In about six +months he’d issue more and cut your throat.”</p> +<p>“How could he do that unless I consented?”</p> +<p>“You would consent—the way they’d put +it up to you. However, you won’t deal with him +if you have any sense. Now, look here. You’re +not twenty-five, just starting business. You +think all there is to it is to cut your logs, bring +down your drives, cut them up into lumber, and +the demand will take care of the rest. That’s +how it used to be. It isn’t so now. Timber is +getting scarcer and prices are going up. There +is a scramble for what timber limits are left, +and the men with the pull get them. Same way +with contracts. You’ll find it out. The big +concerns are eating up the little ones in our line, +just as in others. That’s why you’d better keep +clear of any proposals of Ackerman’s.”</p> +<p>“I will,” Joe promised. At the same time he +thought Crooks unduly pessimistic.</p> +<p>“Now about timber,” the old lumberman +went on. “I’m starting men to cruise all north +of Rat Lake to the divide. You’d better send +a couple of cruisers into Wind River and let them +work east over that stuff, so you will be in shape +to bid for it. That was what your father intended +to do.”</p> +<p>“We have two men there now,” Joe told him.</p> +<p>“Do you know how this bidding works?” asked +Crooks.</p> +<p>“The government calls for tenders and accepts +the highest,” Joe replied.</p> +<p>“Theoretically,” said Crooks. “Practically, +if you’re not a friend of their rotten outfit you +might tender the mint and not get a look in. +They used to have sales by public auction, and +those were square enough; though sometimes the +boys pooled on ’em. Now what happens is this: +The government may open any timber for sale +on any man’s application, and they are supposed +to advertise for tenders. If the applicant isn’t +a friend they won’t open it. If he is, they advertise +in a couple of issues of some backwoods +paper that no one sees, nobody else tenders, and +he gets it for a song. Of course some one high +up gets a rake-off. Only you can’t prove it.”</p> +<p>“How do you buy, then?” Joe asked. “You’re +not friendly to the present government, and I’m +not.”</p> +<p>Crooks hesitated for a moment.</p> +<p>“You’ll have to know sooner or later,” he +said. “I tender in the name of another man, +and I pay him from ten to twenty per cent. +of the amount I tender for the bare use of his +name—if I get what I want. Oh, I know it’s +rotten, but I have to stand for it or shut down. +Your father did the same thing; you’ll have to +do it, too. I’m not defending it. I’ll tell you +more. This infernal political graft is everywhere. +You can’t supply a foot of lumber to a contractor +on any public work unless you stand in.”</p> +<p>Joe whistled astonishment, not unmixed with +disbelief.</p> +<p>“Sounds pretty stiff, hey?” said Crooks. +“Well, here’s something else for you to digest. +There’s a concern called the Central Lumber +Company, capitalized for a hundred thousand, +composed of a young lawyer, a bookkeeper, a +real estate man, and an insurance agent—individuals, +mind you, who couldn’t raise ten +thousand dollars between them—who have +bought in timber lands and acquired going lumber +businesses worth several millions. What do +you think of that?”</p> +<p>Joe did not know what to think of it, and said +so. The suspicion that Crooks was stringing +him crossed his mind, but the old lumberman +was evidently in deadly earnest.</p> +<p>“And now I’ll tell you one thing more,” said +Crooks, instinctively lowering his voice. “I +had an offer for my business some time ago, and +I turned it down. It came through a firm of +lawyers for clients unnamed. Since then I’ve +had a run of bad luck. My sales have fallen +off, I have trouble in my mills, and the railway +can’t supply me with cars. There isn’t a thing +I can fasten on, either.”</p> +<p>“Oh, you must be mistaken,” said Joe. It +seemed to him that bad luck, which often runs +in grooves, had given rise to groundless suspicions +in Crooks’s mind.</p> +<p>“I’m not mistaken,” the latter replied. “I’m +playing with a cold deck, and though I can’t +see a blame thing wrong with the deal I notice +I draw rags every time. That’s enough for me. +I’m going to find out why, because if I don’t +I may as well quit playing.” He banged his +big fist viciously on the table. “I’ll know +the reason why!” he thundered. “I will, by +the Glory Eternal! If any gang of blasted +high-bankers think they can run me out of my +own business without a fight they miss their +guess.”</p> +<p>His white hair bristled and his cold blue eyes +blazed. Thirty years before he had been a holy +terror with fists and feet. Few men then had +cared to arouse Bill Crooks. Now the old +fighting spirit surged up and took possession of +him, and he was proceeding to stronger language +when Miss Jack tapped imperatively at the door +and opened it.</p> +<p>“May I come in? Dad, this isn’t playing fair. +You’ve kept Joe all evening. Edith and I have +been waiting alone for half an hour. Come in, +Edith, and tell him what you think of him.”</p> +<p>“Well, you girls had four young fellows without +Joe. How many do you want?”</p> +<p>She raised inquiring eyebrows at his tone. +“Anything the matter, daddy? I didn’t mean +to intrude.”</p> +<p>“You never do that, Jack,” he smiled at her +fondly. “Business bothers—nothing to worry +about. It’ll be all right ‘when the drive comes +down!’”</p> +<p>“That always means I mustn’t ask questions. +I won’t; but for being rude to me you shall sing +the song. Edith wants to hear it.”</p> +<p>“Oh, do please, Mr. Crooks,” said Miss Garwood +sweetly.</p> +<p>“I’ve no more voice than a crow, and Jack +knows it,” said Crooks, but followed his daughter +meekly to the piano in the next room.</p> +<p>“‘When the Drive Comes Down,’ as sung by +Mr. William Crooks, Selected Record,” Jack +announced in a metallic voice. She struck a chord, +and Crooks, his face beaming and his ill humour +forgotten, with the preliminary whine of the +genuine shanty vocalist struck into an ancient ballad +of the river, which was his especial favourite:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line">“Come all ye gallant shanty boys, an’ listen while I sing,</div> +<div class="line">We’ve worked six months in cruel frosts, but soon we’ll take our fling.</div> +<div class="line">The ice is black an’ rotten, an’ the rollways is piled high,</div> +<div class="line">So boost upon yer peavey sticks while I do tell ye why-y-y.</div> +<div class="line"><br/></div> +<div class="line">For it’s break the roll ways out, me boys, an’ let the big stick slide,</div> +<div class="line">An’ file yer corks, an’ grease yer boots, an’ start upon the drive,</div> +<div class="line">A hundred miles of water is the nearest way to town,</div> +<div class="line">So tie into the tail of her, an’ keep her hustlin’ down-n-n.”</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p>He roared it in a heavy bass, beating time with +a thunderous fist. Jack’s clear alto and Joe’s +strong baritone struck into the first refrain:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line">“When the drive comes dow-un, when the jam comes down,</div> +<div class="line">Oh, it’s then we’re paid our money, an’ it’s then we own the town.</div> +<div class="line">All the gutters runs with whiskey when the shanty boys so frisky</div> +<div class="line">Sets their boot corks in the sidewalks when the drive is down-n-n.”</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p>“Splendid!” cried Miss Garwood. “More, +Mr. Crooks!” He nodded at her indulgently, +and let his big voice go:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line">“There’s some poor lads will never lift a peavey-hook again,</div> +<div class="line">Nor hear the trees crack wid the frost, nor feel a warm spring rain.</div> +<div class="line">’Twas fallin’ timber, rowlin’ logs that handed them their time;</div> +<div class="line">It was their luck to get it so—it may be yours or mine.</div> +<div class="line"><br/></div> +<div class="line">“But break the rollways out, me lads, an’ let the big sticks slide,</div> +<div class="line">For one man killed within the woods ten’s drownded on the drive.</div> +<div class="line">So make yer sowls before ye take the nearest way to town</div> +<div class="line">While the lads that be’s in Heaven watch the drive go down-n-n.</div> +<div class="line"><br/></div> +<div class="line">“When the drive starts dow-un, when the drive starts down,</div> +<div class="line">Oh, it’s every lad in Heaven he wud swop his golden crown</div> +<div class="line">For a peavey stick again, an’ a soakin’ April rain,</div> +<div class="line">An’ to birl a log beneath him as he drives the river down-n-n.”</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p>“Oh, I don’t like that verse,” protested Miss +Garwood. “It’s sad, fatalistic, reckless—anything +and everything it shouldn’t be. I thought +shanty songs were more cheerful.”</p> +<p>“Some of ’em are cheerful enough,” said +Crooks, winking at Joe, who had the grace to +blush.</p> +<p>“But most describe the lingering deaths of +true lovers,” said Jack. “A shantyman requires +sentiment or murder, and preferably both, in +his music. Dad, sing us ‘The Fate of Lovely +May.’”</p> +<p>“I will not,” Crooks refused. “It has five +hundred verses, more or less. I’m going to bed. +You can lose sleep if you want to.”</p> +<p>“Don’t take that hint, Joe,” laughed Jack. +“You’re not company.”</p> +<p>“Hint nothing,” said Crooks. “Jack knows +it wasn’t.”</p> +<p>“I’m a business man now,” said Joe. “I feel +it my duty to set an example to frivolous young +people.”</p> +<p>“Come around often, the way you used to,” +said Jack.</p> +<p>Miss Garwood, obviously, could not second the +invitation in words: but much can be expressed +by a pair of blue eyes. Joe felt that, unless he +was an absolute dub at interpreting such things, +his visits would not be unwelcome to her.</p> +</div> +<div class="section" id="iv"> +<h2 class="title section-title level-2">IV</h2> +<p>Wright stalked into Joe’s office one +morning and slapped an open letter +down on his desk. Evidently he +was red hot.</p> +<p>“What do you think of that?” he demanded. +The communication was brief and business-like:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<p class='align-center'>BARKER & SMITH</p> +<p>Contractors—Builders<br />Oshkook, June 10th.</p> +<p>The Kent Lumber Co., Falls City.</p> +<p>Dear Sirs: Referring to our correspondence as to a quantity of +lumber f.o.b. Falls City, we would say that we will not require same +from you, having been quoted a more favourable rate. Regretting +that in this instance we must place our order elsewhere, we are,</p> +<p class="attribution">― Yours truly, Barker & Smith.</p> +</div></blockquote> +<p>Joe whistled dismally. Barker & Smith were +large contractors and retail dealers. The quantity +of lumber referred to was large, and the +contract had been all but closed; in fact, he was +not sure that it had not been closed. After +consultation with Wright he had quoted the firm +a rock bottom cash price because he needed the +money more than the lumber. Now he was +thrown down hard.</p> +<p>“Well, some one underbid us,” he said, trying +to hide his disappointment. “That’s all there +is to it.”</p> +<p>“Nobody could underbid us and get out +even,” said Wright. “We figured our margin +down to a hair-line. I’ll bet a hundred to one +they can’t get it cheaper without stealing.”</p> +<p>“They say they can, and I suppose it goes,” +said Joe wearily. “Hang it, I thought it was +as good as closed!”</p> +<p>“Same here; and I’m not sure it isn’t,” said +Wright. “They practically agreed to take the +stuff from us.”</p> +<p>“Show the correspondence to Locke then, and +see what he says,” Joe suggested.</p> +<p>But Locke, after he had waded through the +papers, tossed them back to Wright. “No good,” +he said. “What’s here doesn’t amount to a +contract, though it comes mighty close to it.”</p> +<p>“It comes so close to it that we had cars run +up the spur and started to load,” said Wright. +“The understanding was—”</p> +<p>“It had no business to be,” Locke interrupted. +“You’ve shown me all the papers in the matter, +haven’t you? Very well, I tell you they don’t +amount to an agreement. They’re simply a +series of proposals, rejections, and requests for +other proposals, though you came very nearly +agreeing. While you’re dickering some one cuts +in with a better rate and they call it off. You +can’t hold them.”</p> +<p>“But nobody could underbid us; we quoted +’em rock bottom,” Wright persisted. That was +the main point in his mind.</p> +<p>“Oh, pshaw, Wright, have some sense!” +snapped Locke. “That may be an excuse, or +it may not. It’s quite immaterial. Can’t you +see that?”</p> +<p>“That’s all right from a lawyer’s standpoint, +but not from ours,” said Wright. “Barker & +Smith use a lot of lumber, and they’re not in +business to lose money. I say nobody could +underbid us. They lie when they say they got +a better rate. What do they want to lie for? +It’s money out of their pockets.”</p> +<p>“I’m a lawyer, not a mind reader,” Locke +reminded him. “Your quotations were f.o.b. +Falls City. It’s just possible the freight rate +may have something to do with it.”</p> +<p>Wright returned to the office, pulled out his +tariff books and compared the rate from Falls +City to Oshkook with rates from other competitive +points to the latter place.</p> +<p>“We’ve got ’em skinned there, too,” he soliloquized. +“They can’t lay down any lumber +cheaper than ours. It beats me.”</p> +<p>For an hour he pulled at a blackened brier and +pondered the question. Then he went to Kent.</p> +<p>“This thing worries me,” he said. “I can’t +see through it. I think I’ll take a run over to +Oshkook and have a talk with Barker & Smith.”</p> +<p>“I wouldn’t,” said Joe, his pride up in arms. +“We don’t want to go begging for their business. +We quoted ’em a good rate. If they don’t want +our stuff at that let ’em go to the devil.” He +was sore and stiff-necked, as is the wont of +youth when things go wrong.</p> +<p>But the older man persisted:</p> +<p>“I don’t care so much that we lost the contract; +I want to find out, if I can, why we lost it. I +know we weren’t underbid, and I want to know +why they lied about it. It isn’t a case of soliciting +business; it’s a case of finding out why we +don’t get what’s coming to us, and that’s a mighty +vital question to any concern. We’ve sold +Barker & Smith before, and never had any friction. +We can’t afford to ride the high horse +just now. There’s something behind this, and +it’s up to us to find out what.”</p> +<p>Kent recognized the force of the argument. +“I was wrong. Go ahead and find out all you +can.”</p> +<p>Wright took train for Oshkook and dropped +into Barker & Smith’s office. Barker was out, +and he saw Smith.</p> +<p>“I called about the lumber we quoted you a +price on,” said Wright.</p> +<p>“Oh, that?” said Smith, who was plainly +uneasy. “Yes. Let’s see! We didn’t come to +terms, did we?”</p> +<p>“No, we didn’t.” said Wright. “We quoted +you a price that left us practically no margin. +I don’t see how any one could give a lower quotation. +In fact, I wouldn’t have believed it +possible if your letter hadn’t said so. I tell you +whoever underbid us will lose money by it, or +else you’ll get poor stuff.”</p> +<p>“We won’t accept poor stuff,” said Smith. +“As to whether the other people lose money or +not, that’s their affair. I presume they know +their own business.”</p> +<p>“Would you mind telling me who they are?” +Wright asked.</p> +<p>The question appeared to embarrass Smith.</p> +<p>“Why, upon my word, Wright, I don’t exactly +know,” he replied. “We got a number of quotations, +of course. Barker has been looking +after it. Better see him.”</p> +<p>“You’d have the information in the office, +wouldn’t you?” Wright pressed.</p> +<p>“I suppose so, I suppose so; but—here, you +see Barker. He knows all about it. I don’t. +Sorry to leave you, but I’ve got an appointment.” +And he left Wright to wait for the senior partner.</p> +<p>When Barker came in, fully two hours later, +his surprise at seeing Wright was so much overdone +that the latter knew Smith had been talking +to him.</p> +<p>“Well, now, look here,” said Barker when +Wright had opened the matter, “I don’t want +to talk about this. We got a dozen quotations +and picked out the one that suited us. That’s +all there is to it. I’m not going to tell you +where we buy or what we buy for. That’s our +business.”</p> +<p>“You said we were underbid, and that’s my +business,” said Wright. “I tell you we weren’t.”</p> +<p>“That,” said Barker with first-class indignation, +“amounts to a reflection on our veracity.”</p> +<p>“I wouldn’t put it that way,” retorted Wright. +“Your letter was a darned poor lie, if you want +my opinion of it. Now, hold your horses for +a minute while I talk. No one quoted you a +better rate then we did; I know that. And I +know that transportation charges cut no figure, +either. I’m not kicking, understand, but I do +want to know why we didn’t land the contract. +We’ve done business with you before and hope +to do business with you again. Where do we +fall down? Why are you throwing it into us? +What do we have to figure on besides cost, next +time you ask us for a quotation?”</p> +<p>“Better wait till I ask you,” said Barker.</p> +<p>“No, because this is a serious thing for us. I +want to make it plain that we recognize your +right to buy anywhere, and for any price you +choose to pay. That’s all right. You needn’t +have given any reason at all. But the reason +you did give was not the true one, and we both +know it. Now, man to man, Mr. Barker, tell +me what we’re up against. Why didn’t we get +the contract?”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Barker hesitatingly, “there is +something in what you say. I don’t mind telling +you this much: There are a holy lot of wires +in our business, and we have to stand in with the +people who pull them, see? Sometimes we have +to buy where we’re told, no matter what the +price is. We get square in other ways. That’s +about what happened in this case, otherwise +you would have got the order.”</p> +<p>Wright felt quite elated when he took his +departure, for he had justified his contention +that they had not been underbidden. Wright’s +business was to cut logs into lumber and sell +the lumber. William Kent had looked after the +logging end of the concern. The limits, the +camps, and the drives were his field. What logs +he did not sell he handed over to Wright and +thought no more about, knowing that they would +be worked up into everything from rough boards +to matched flooring. Wright, then, having ascertained +the reason of the throw down, accepted +it philosophically as arising from circumstances +beyond his control. But young Kent, when +he received his manager’s report, was not so +philosophic.</p> +<p>“Pretty rotten state of affairs if people have +to buy where they are told,” he fumed. “Nice +free country we inhabit! I never took much +stock in such yarns, but I’m beginning to see +that there may be something in them.”</p> +<p>He took his troubles to Crooks, who listened, +growled profane comment, but offered no advice. +When Kent had gone he went to Locke’s office. +Locke heard him with attention.</p> +<p>“What does the boy think about it?” he asked.</p> +<p>“So far,” Crooks replied, “he’s more indignant +because Barker & Smith have to buy somewhere +else than because he can’t sell to them. Same +thing in one way, of course. But he’s looking +at it from what he thinks is their standpoint. +Says it’s an outrage that they have to buy where +they’re told.”</p> +<p>“Now I wonder,” said Locke thoughtfully, +“if we may go a step further? I wonder if they +are told where not to buy?”</p> +<p>“By George!” exclaimed Crooks.</p> +<p>“It proves nothing,” said Locke. “It may +not be especially directed at Kent.”</p> +<p>“I’ll bet it is,” said Crooks. “I’m losing good +customers myself without reason. I can stand +it, but Joe can’t. He needs good luck to pull +him through as it is.”</p> +<p>“What in thunder do you suspect anyway?” +asked Locke. “A combine?”</p> +<p>“Not a bit of it,” replied Crooks. “I’ve not +been asked to join any ring to boost prices; but +I have been asked to sell out. So has Kent. +We won’t do it, and immediately our businesses +suffer.”</p> +<p>“That is, you think somebody is forcing your +hand?”</p> +<p>“That’s what I think. If Barker had told +the truth he’d have said he’d been ordered not +to buy from Kent.”</p> +<p>“Well, if any one is hammering you he’ll have +to show his hand sooner or later,” said Locke. +“Take your medicine till you can get hold of one +definite illegal act susceptible of proof beyond +all question. Then we’ll simply raise the roof.”</p> +</div> +<div class="section" id="v"> +<h2 class="title section-title level-2">V</h2> +<p>In less than a week from their first meeting, +Edith Garwood and Joe Kent were giving a +very fair imitation of a flirtation. Joe, as has +been said before, was merely an average young +man. He was not genuinely or at all in love at +first; but he was strongly attracted, and he played +the pleasant game without much thought of +consequences. And Edith Garwood, being so +constituted that admiration was as the breath +of life to her, entered into it with zest.</p> +<p>Not that she confined herself to Joe. Mallane, +Leadly, and half a dozen others basked in the +sunshine of her smiles, and she held the balance +fairly level, enjoying her power. Thus jealousies +sprang up which threatened to disrupt the +<em>entente cordiale</em> normally existing in the younger +set of Falls City. These were by no means +confined to the young men, for certain young +ladies found themselves suddenly deserted by +cavaliers to whose loyalty they would have sworn, +and were much displeased thereby.</p> +<p>These things bore somewhat hardly on Jack +Crooks. She was a frank, unspoiled, straight-forward +girl, and loyalty to her friends was one +of her distinguishing features. But she was +very human, and the general male adoration +of her guest made her just a little tired. No +young hostess likes to be completely outshone +by a visitor, even a very lovely one, and to find +herself practically overlooked by the young men +of her own town was a new and unpleasant +experience.</p> +<p>“I thought Joe, anyway, had more sense,” +she reflected. “She doesn’t care for him any +more than for the others, and he ought to see it. +Oh, well, let him burn his fingers. I don’t +care.”</p> +<p>But she did care, because he was a very old +friend, and she rather resented the pumping +process to which Miss Garwood subjected her +one evening. That young lady, after eliciting +certain information as to the habits, characters, +and worldly prospects of several young gentlemen, +at last came around to Kent, a sequence +which was suspicious in itself.</p> +<p>“Now your Mr. Kent, dear—tell me about +him!”</p> +<p>“He’s not <em>my</em> Mr. Kent,” said Jack, a shade of +red stealing into her cheeks. “Joe’s a nice boy, +quite the nicest I know. We played together +when we were kids—that is, he condescended +to amuse me when he was nine and I was five, +and that’s quite a concession for a boy, isn’t it? +Lately he’s been away at college, and so we +haven’t seen much of each other.”</p> +<p>“His father died recently. He is the only son, +isn’t he?”</p> +<p>“Yes. And his mother died when he was a +little fellow, so he is quite alone. He is carrying +on the business himself.”</p> +<p>“It’s a big business, isn’t it? Somebody +said the late Mr. Kent was quite wealthy.”</p> +<p>Jack’s brows drew together a little. She +disliked these questions, perfectly natural though +they were.</p> +<p>“I believe he was; that is, of course, he owned +mills and timber limits and so on. I suppose +Joe is well off, but he has never confided in +me.”</p> +<p>“But he may some day?” The unmistakable +meaning in the words brought the red to Jack’s +cheeks again. She turned the question carelessly.</p> +<p>“Oh, perhaps, when he is in a confidential +mood. He always was a clam, though.”</p> +<p>“Jack, dear,” said Miss Garwood, “look at +me. Is there anything between you and Mr. +Kent?”</p> +<p>“Not a blessed thing,” said Jack honestly. +“Why?”</p> +<p>“I wanted to make sure I wasn’t trespassing,” +replied Miss Garwood lightly.</p> +<p>“Well, you’re not,” said Jack. “Now let me +ask a question: Have you fallen in love with +him?”</p> +<p>“No, not exactly,” said Miss Garwood. +“But—well, dearie, I half suspect that he has fallen +in love with me.”</p> +<p>In spite of herself Jack winced. It was what +she had told herself, but to hear it from Edith +Garwood’s careless lips was different. And yet +why should she care? Joe was no more to her +than any other old friend. Naturally he would +fall in love some day and marry. Perhaps +Edith, in spite of her denial, did care for him. +In that case— She gave herself a mental shake +and met the curious look in her guest’s blue eyes +squarely.</p> +<p>“I don’t see how he could help it,” she said +truthfully. “He isn’t the only one, either. +Shall you marry him, Edith?”</p> +<p>Edith Garwood laughed, well pleased, for she +liked to be told of her conquests. “It’s rather +early to say,” she replied. “You see, dear, +he hasn’t asked me yet. And if he did, there +are all sorts of things to be considered.”</p> +<p>“Such as what?” asked Jack. “If you love +one another that’s the main thing, isn’t it?”</p> +<p>“You dear, unsophisticated child!” laughed +Miss Garwood. “That’s only one thing. We +should have to live after we were married, you +see.”</p> +<p>“Well, I suppose Joe has enough money for +that,” Jack commented. “And then you have +plenty of money yourself, or your father has.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” Miss Garwood agreed; “but papa has +his own ideas of what would be a suitable match +for me. I’m not sure he would approve of Joe—I +mean Mr. Kent. Confidentially, Jack, how +much do you suppose he is worth?”</p> +<p>“I never supposed,” said Jack shortly. “His +income may be one thousand or ten thousand +a year; I don’t know. You aren’t marrying him +for his money.”</p> +<p>“I haven’t decided to marry him at all, you +goose,” said Miss Garwood lightly. “It will be +time enough to make up my mind when he asks +me.”</p> +<p>Nevertheless she lay awake for half an hour +that night, thinking. Her flirtation with Joe +had reached a point for thought. She wondered +how Hugh Garwood would regard him as a +prospective son-in-law. Finding the answer +rather doubtful, she sighed, turned her facile +mind to something else, and almost immediately +slept.</p> +<p>For hours after her guest slumbered, Jack +Crooks stared from her bed at the treetops outside +the window, and watched the patch of moonlight +on the floor slowly shift and finally disappear. +And this sleeplessness was the more unaccountable +because she told herself again that she didn’t +care whether Joe married Edith or not. She +was quite honest about it.</p> +<p>“But I didn’t like her questions about his +money,” she reflected. “She has or will have +enough for both. I know if I were in love—which +thank goodness I’m not—the amount +of money a young man had would be the last +thing I’d think of. I don’t believe dad would +think of it either, just so we had enough to live +on, and good prospects. Of course not. She +can’t think much of Joe if she lets that stand in +the way. If he isn’t exactly rich he can’t be poor. +Mr. Kent was as well off as dad, I should think. +Oh, dear! I’ve simply <em>got</em> to go to sleep.” And +finally she did, just as the faintest light grew in +the east.</p> +<p>Meanwhile, Joe Kent was doing a little soul +searching himself, without coming to any definite +conclusion. He liked Edith Garwood, and he +suffered acute jealousy when she accepted the +marked attentions of others; but to save his life +he couldn’t make up his mind whether he would +care to look at her across his breakfast coffee +as long as they both should live. The question +of money occurred to him, but not as an important +factor. He knew that old Hugh Garwood, +the president of the O. & N. Railway, had it to +burn, to throw at the birds, to stuff cats with, and +half a dozen other ways of disposition. But he +himself had enough to keep a wife in the modest +comfort which had always been his. He was +clean, healthy, well educated, and owned a business +which, though encumbered, was perfectly +solvent. Therefore he considered himself, without +egotism, eligible for the hand of any girl, +no matter how wealthy her father might be.</p> +<p>But apart from the question of whether he +loved Edith Garwood or not was the somewhat +embarrassing one of whether she loved him. It +was all right to flirt, to play the two-handed game +for fun. But suppose it was for marbles; suppose +one took it seriously——</p> +<p>“Hang it,” said young Kent to himself, “I +don’t know whether I’ve got the real thing or +not; and I don’t know whether she has been +stringing me along or not. But if she hasn’t +been it’s pretty nearly up to me to come across +with a formal proposal. I wish I knew where I +was at. I wonder if I could get a line from Jack?”</p> +<p>From which the experienced will readily deduce +that young Mr. Kent was somewhat rattled and +a little afraid of the future, but not altogether +unwilling to pay for his fun like a man.</p> +<p>His endeavour to sound Miss Crooks was by +no means a success. With unwonted density +she did not or would not see the drift of his questions, +framed with what he considered great +subtlety; and when he became more direct she +went to the point with embarrassing candour:</p> +<p>“Do you want to marry her, or don’t you?” +she asked.</p> +<p>“Why, Jack, I’ll be hanged if I know,” he +admitted.</p> +<p>“Well, when you make up your mind, ask her,” +said Jack. “Meanwhile don’t try to pump me. +I don’t know anything about her sentiments, +and if I did I wouldn’t tell you.”</p> +<p>So Joe had to go it blind. The flirtation, +however, progressed. One night the moon, rising +gorgeous and serene above a notch in the hills, +discovered Edith Garwood and Joe Kent seated +prosaically upon a huge log by the river side, both +very tongue-tied, and both apparently absorbed +in the engrossing pastime of tossing pebbles into +the black water and seeing the rings spread. In +fact it had come to a showdown. It was +distinctly Joe’s play, but he held up his hand. +It was provoking, from Miss Garwood’s +standpoint.</p> +<p>“I think,” she said, “that we should go home.”</p> +<p>“Oh, not yet; it’s early,” said Joe.</p> +<p>Pause. Miss Garwood sighed inaudibly but +impatiently, and her fingers played nervously +with a ring. Joe stared blankly at the water. +The ring, escaping from the lady’s hand, fell +tinkling on the beach pebbles.</p> +<p>“Oh!” she exclaimed, “I’ve dropped my +ring!”</p> +<p>She knelt at once and began to search for it +in the semi-darkness. So did Joe. Quite by +accident her slim white hand came in contact +with his broad brown one. And the natural +thing happened.</p> +<p>“Mr. Kent!”</p> +<p>“Yes—Edith!”</p> +<p>“Please!”</p> +<p>But she swayed toward him slightly. Accepting +the situation, Joe Kent’s unoccupied hand and +arm encircled her waist with considerable facility. +He even applied gentle pressure. She yielded +a little, but protested:</p> +<p>“Mr. Kent—Joe!”</p> +<p>“Yes, dear!”</p> +<p>“You shouldn’t—I shouldn’t. I never gave +you any reason to think that I thought that you +thought—I mean you couldn’t think I did, +could you?” Which confusion of speech went to +show that the usually composed Miss Garwood +was slightly rattled. She had created the situation +and she felt it slipping beyond her control. +Joe, who had accepted it recklessly, drew a long +breath and made the plunge.</p> +<p>“I hope you do. I—I love you, Edith.” +He wondered if the words rang true. To him +they sounded hollow and forced. But Miss +Garwood’s waist yielded a little more. The +fingers of her disengaged hand clasped the lapel +of his coat and played with it, and her sweet +blue eyes looked up pleadingly, trustfully, into +his brown ones.</p> +<p>“Joe,” she murmured, “I don’t know what to +say. I’m not sure, but I half suspect that I—I—oh!”</p> +<p>The exclamation was smothered, for again the +natural thing had happened.</p> +<p>Five minutes afterward Miss Garwood smoothed +her hair and said irrelevantly:</p> +<p>“But we haven’t found my ring!”</p> +<p>“Good old ring,” said Joe, producing it from +his pocket.</p> +<p>“Joe!” she cried in unaffected astonishment. +“Did you have it there all the time?”</p> +<p>“I found it pretty early in the game,” he +acknowledged without shame. “I’ll buy you +another to-morrow.”</p> +<p>The dim light hid the sudden gravity of her features. +“Do you mean an engagement ring, Joe?”</p> +<p>“Of course.”</p> +<p>“Are we really engaged?”</p> +<p>“Simple process, isn’t it? I guess we are.”</p> +<p>Miss Garwood dug a daintily shod foot into +the sand. This was getting serious.</p> +<p>“But we ought to have papa’s consent first.”</p> +<p>“Well, I’ll take a run over to your town and +tell him about it,” said Joe carelessly. “Matter +of form, I suppose. I’ll look after that in a day +or two.”</p> +<p>Miss Garwood laughed uneasily. “It’s plain +that you don’t know him. I think you would +better leave that to me—about our engagement, +I mean. And meantime we won’t say anything +about it to anybody.”</p> +<p>“I don’t like that,” said Joe frankly. Having +made the plunge he was ready to stay in the water. +“Why shouldn’t we announce it? Do you mean +your father wouldn’t consent?”</p> +<p>“I doubt if he would, at first,” she replied, +apparently with equal frankness. “You see he +expects me—please don’t be offended—but he +expects me to make what is called a good +marriage.”</p> +<p>“Do you mean he expects you to marry for +money?”</p> +<p>“No, not altogether. But money and social +position are desirable.” Thus early she sought +to provide an avenue of retreat.</p> +<p>Joe stared at her, his pride hurt. It had never +occurred to him that his own social position was +not as good as any one’s. He was received everywhere +he wished to go; of fashionable society +and the grades and jealousies of it he knew little +and cared less. He had no social ambitions +whatever, and his own modest place was perfectly +assured.</p> +<p>“I don’t quite get it,” said he. “I have enough +to live on. And I suppose I could butt into +society, if that’s what you mean.”</p> +<p>She explained gently, shouldering the responsibility +upon her father. In any event they could +not marry at once. Then let their engagement +remain a secret between them. She sighed with +relief when she carried her point, for it gave her +time to pause and reflect. Joe had swept her +away a little, for she really liked him. Now she +saw things clearly once more. Relative values +emerged. Even a temporary engagement to a +comparatively poor, obscure young man would +never do; that is, it must not be made public. +But she was given to following the line of the +least resistance. It never occurred to her to +doubt that he was genuinely in love, and she +hated a scene. Later it would be an easy thing +to break with him. Meanwhile she would have +what fun she could out of it, for Joe was really +very nice.</p> +</div> +<div class="section" id="vi"> +<h2 class="title section-title level-2">VI</h2> +<p>As a matter of fact Kent was rather relieved +when Miss Garwood’s visit ended. +Whether he had made a mistake or +not he was ready to abide by it; but he found +himself in a false position, and he greatly disliked +to witness the open attentions of numerous +young men, to which he could not very well +object. However, he had a number of other +things, just as important and considerably more +pressing, to think about.</p> +<p>For instance, there was the question of car +shortage. The Peninsular Railway, which was +the only line serving Falls City, seemed to have +no rolling stock available. Promises were forthcoming +in plenty—but no cars. Complaints +of delayed shipments from indignant purchasers +poured down on Kent in a daily deluge. He and +Wright besieged the manager, the traffic superintendent, +and the dispatchers, demanding flats +and boxes—anything on wheels—and by dint +of unremitting persistence were able to obtain +about half as many cars as they needed.</p> +<p>It was this difficulty which made Joe, after +consultation with Wright, refuse a proposition +of Clancy Brothers, with whom they already +had a large delivery contract, calling for almost +double the quantity of lumber which they had a +right to purchase under the existing agreement, +and at the same rate and same terms of delivery.</p> +<p>“No use making contracts if we can’t get +cars,” said Joe regretfully when he had read the +Clancys’ letter.</p> +<p>“That’s so,” said Wright. “We’ll explain +it to them. I suppose if they want more lumber, +and if we can ever get anything to ship it in, we +can sell it to them.” And he wrote them to that +effect and subsequently regretted it, for cars +began to come easier.</p> +<p>And then there was the situation at the bank. +The notes were coming due, and though there +was no objection to renewing those which Crooks +had endorsed, the bank intimated that the others +should be reduced.</p> +<p>“But why?” asked Joe. “You have collateral. +The security is as good now as when they were +given.”</p> +<p>“The personal liability is different,” replied +Hagel, manager of the Commercial Bank. He +was a stout, pompous, side-whiskered man of +middle age, inclined to a solemnity of speech +which partially cloaked an innate stupidity, and +he held his position mainly because he did as he +was told, without question. “Your father’s +ability to pay was one thing; yours—you’ll +pardon me—is quite another.”</p> +<p>“In other words, you don’t think I can run the +business?” said Joe.</p> +<p>Hagel raised a protesting hand. “It is not +what <em>I</em> think, Mr. Kent. My directors, in their +wisdom, foresee a—er—a financial storm. We +must shorten sail, Mr. Kent—hem!—yes—shorten +sail. I regret the necessity, but——”</p> +<p>“All right,” Joe interrupted. “If you insist, +of course I’ll have to take up the notes when they +mature. To do that I’ll have to borrow money, +and I don’t feel inclined to leave my account +where I can’t get ordinary accommodation. +I’ll go over to the Farmers’ National and see +what McDowell will do for me.”</p> +<p>McDowell was manager of the latter institution, +and the very antipodes of Hagel, who hated +him. He was young, popular, brusque, and a +thorough-paced sport after banking hours.</p> +<p>“I trust you won’t do that,” said Hagel, for +the Kent account was a very valuable one. +“You have other accommodation from us, and +we have had your account for a long time.”</p> +<p>“That’s got nothing to do with it,” said Joe, +who was developing a most disconcerting habit +of going straight to the point. “You people are +trying to keep the cream and make me hustle +to sell skim milk. If you force me to hunt accommodation +elsewhere not another dollar of my +money goes through your hands. You’ll do what +seems best to you, of course; but I want to know +now where I am at.”</p> +<p>Hagel had lost some very good accounts which +the Farmers’ National had subsequently acquired, +and his directors had made unpleasant +remarks. Although he was merely carrying out +their instructions in this instance, he knew +director nature well enough to realize that he +would be blamed if the account were withdrawn.</p> +<p>“Better wait a few days, Mr. Kent,” he said. +“I’ll put your views before my board, and I +think it very likely the matter can be arranged—very +likely indeed.”</p> +<p>“All right,” said Joe; “but that’s how it lies. +I don’t think I’m getting a square deal, and if +I have to lift the notes I’ll take the account with +them.”</p> +<p>On top of this there came another trouble, +and a serious one. Joe, one morning, had just +rung for his stenographer when Wright burst +in upon him in considerable agitation, brushing +past that long-suffering young lady in the doorway.</p> +<p>“What do you think of this?” he cried, waving +a sheet of paper. “That infernal railway—” +He swore venomously, and Joe’s stenographer, +with a glance at her employer, discreetly +withdrew, for she was a young woman of experience.</p> +<p>“What’s the row?” Joe asked. “And you +might shade your language a little. Not that I +mind, but I don’t want Miss Brown to quit +her job.”</p> +<p>“A readjustment of freight rates!” cried Wright. +“A readjustment! And look what they’ve done +to lumber!”</p> +<p>Joe grabbed the paper, glanced at it, and +supplemented his manager’s remarks with great +heartiness. In a general and long-promised +overhauling of freight rates that on lumber was +boosted sky-high. But he did not at once grasp +the full significance of it. He saw that the result +would be to increase the price of lumber proportionately +and restrict building to some extent +in certain localities; but in the end the consumer +would pay, as usual.</p> +<p>“Rotten!” he commented. “The old rate was +high enough. Looks like a case for the Transportation +Commission. They ought to scale this down.”</p> +<p>“They’ll get around to it in a couple of years,” +snorted Wright with bitter contempt. “Meanwhile +where do we get off at? I tell you it just +cuts the heart out of our business.”</p> +<p>“I don’t see—” Joe began.</p> +<p>“You don’t?” Wright fairly shouted. “No, +and I don’t see it all myself—yet. But look +what it does to our contract with the Clancys!”</p> +<p>Now the contract with Clancy Brothers, +mentioned before, was peculiar. They logged +and manufactured lumber, but not nearly all +for which they had sale. They operated a system +of selling yards in twenty towns. By the +terms of an agreement made by his father, which +had more than a year to run, Kent was bound +to supply them with lumber as required to a +stated maximum amount at a stated price +according to quality; and they, on their part, +were bound to order lumber to a stated minimum +quantity.</p> +<p>But instead of the price being f.o.b. Falls +City, as was usual, the Clancys had insisted on a +delivery price at their central yard, thus striking +an average and getting rid of trouble. Therefore +the price of the lumber per thousand feet +was based on a calculation in which the then +existing freight rate was an important factor. +Thus an unforeseen and substantial increase in +the rate meant a corresponding loss to Kent, +if the Clancys chose to hold him to the agreement. +Joe looked at his manager in slowly, +dawning comprehension.</p> +<p>“Why—why—hang it, Wright,” he said +slowly, “it means a dead loss to us on every foot +of boards we sell them!”</p> +<p>“Just that,” Wright agreed grimly. “And +they’ll boost their price with the rest of the retail +men and make a double profit.”</p> +<p>“Surely they won’t hold us up when we’re +losing money and they’re making two kinds?” +said Joe, from his utter inexperience.</p> +<p>“Won’t they?” snapped Wright. “They’ll +hold us up for every foot the contract calls for.” +He stopped suddenly. “And only a couple of +weeks ago they wanted us to enter into a new +contract for double the quantity at the same rates. +Now I see it!”</p> +<p>“They had advance information of the change!” +gasped Joe.</p> +<p>“Sure. After all, that car shortage was a +good thing; otherwise we’d have closed with +them. Now our only chance to get out even +is to find a hole in the contract.”</p> +<p>Joe’s hope that the Clancys would not hold +him to a losing agreement went glimmering, but +he didn’t quite like Wright’s suggestion. “We +made this contract with our eyes open,” he said. +“At least my father did. Would it be square +to back out now, even if we could?”</p> +<p>“Square?” exclaimed Wright. “Look at the +dirty game they tried on us! Anything’s square +with people like them. I’d rob their safe if I +could. Didn’t they try to get a new contract +that would kill us? Did you ever see them?”</p> +<p>“No,” Joe admitted. “I heard they were +good business men, that’s all.”</p> +<p>“Business men!” Wright struggled for appropriate +words, and finding none threw out his hands +in a protesting gesture. “They’re all that and +then some. I wish I had half their business +ability. They’re a pair of cold-blooded, dirty-tongued, +sewer-rat devils, with the knack of +making money hand over fist. And you see how +they do it! But they pay up to the day and the +cent, and they never squeal when they’re hit, +I’ll say that for them.”</p> +<p>“Then we won’t squeal either,” said Joe proudly. +“Maybe, after all, they’ll let us down easy.”</p> +<p>“Not them,” said Wright, ungrammatically +but positively.</p> +<p>Not two hours afterward a wire was received +from Clancy Brothers ordering a large consignment +of dressed lumber which they wanted rushed.</p> +<p>“What did I tell you?” said Wright sadly. +“And the nerve of them to want it rushed. +Rushed! I’ll see them in blazes first. They’ll +take their turn, and that’s last.”</p> +<p>This strategic delay was provocative of results. +Some days afterward Joe’s telephone rang.</p> +<p>“Is that Misther Kent?” demanded a heavy +voice at the other end of the wire. “It is? Well, +this is Finn Clancy, talkin’—Finn Clancy of +Clancy Brothers. I want to know how about +that lumber we ordered. Is ut shipped yit?”</p> +<p>“Not yet,” Joe replied. “We don’t——”</p> +<p>“An’ why the divil isn’t ut?” interrupted +Clancy. “Haven’t ye got ut cut?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” Joe admitted, “but——”</p> +<p>“No ‘buts’ about it,” Clancy cut him short +again. “Don’t tell me ye can’t get cars. I +know better. That gag don’t work no more. +I’ll have yeez people to understand that when we +order lumber we want lumber an’ not excuses. +Th’ contract calls for——”</p> +<p>“I know quite well what it calls for,” Joe interrupted +in his turn. “If you think you’ve got +a kick, come up to the office and make it.” And +he slammed the receiver back on the hook +viciously.</p> +<p>Half an hour afterward Wright ushered in the +brothers Clancy. Finn Clancy fulfilled the promise +of his telephone voice. He stood over six +feet; he was broad, deep-chested, and red-bearded, +with a pair of bright blue eyes hard as polished +steel. John Clancy was small, dark, and wizened, +and his mouth was a straight slit, tucked +in at the corners.</p> +<p>“This is Mr. Kent,” said Wright.</p> +<p>The brothers stared at Joe for a moment.</p> +<p>“So ut was you I was talkin’ to?” growled Finn +Clancy belligerently.</p> +<p>“It was,” said Joe shortly, but, realizing the +advisability of holding his temper, he added: +“Sit down, gentlemen.”</p> +<p>They sat down. Finn heavily; John cautiously.</p> +<p>“Now about the lumber,” Joe began. “We’ve +been delayed one way and another, but we’ll +ship it in a day or two.”</p> +<p>“You betther,” Finn rumbled. “We got +contracts to fill, an’ we got a contract wid you. +You want to remember that.”</p> +<p>“I do remember it,” said Joe. “Also I remember +that you tried to get us to sign a new one for +double the amount, not so very long ago. I +suppose it was a coincidence that the freight +rate was boosted a few days afterward.”</p> +<p>They simply grinned at him. John Clancy +chuckled dryly, as if it were the best joke in the +world.</p> +<p>“If we’d ’a’ got that we’d ’a’ made money,” +he said.</p> +<p>“No doubt,” Joe commented. “You’re making +enough as it is. We lose money on every order +of yours that we fill.”</p> +<p>“That’s your business,” said Finn, and John’s +mouth tucked in a little more. He shot an understanding +glance at his brother, but said nothing.</p> +<p>“Quite true,” said Joe. “And your profits +will be doubled by the increased price of lumber. +In view of that it occurred to us that you might +be willing to amend the contract so as to let us +out even.”</p> +<p>“That occurred to ye, did it?” said the big +man. There was a sneer in his voice. “It +didn’t occur to us, did it, Jawn?”</p> +<p>“It did not, Finn,” said John positively.</p> +<p>“Well, I mention it to you now,” said Joe. +“We don’t want to lose money, but we’d be satisfied +with an even break. Your profits will be big +enough to allow us that. But it’s up to you. If +you choose to hold us up I suppose you can do it.”</p> +<p>“There’s no holdin’ up about it,” said Finn. +“You contract to deliver lumber at one price; +we contract to buy it at that price. If it goes +down we lose; if it goes up you lose. Anyways +ye had yer eyes open when ye signed. That’s +how I look at it. Am I right, Jawn?”</p> +<p>“Ye are,” declared his brother. “If so be +lumber had went down, wud we have came whinin +to ye to let us off our contract? We wud not. +When we lose we pay, an’ say nawthin’ about it. +That’s business.”</p> +<p>“All right,” said Joe; “it may be. But if +I stood to make as much money as you do I’d +see that the other fellow didn’t lose anything, +that’s all.”</p> +<p>“It’s aisy to talk,” sneered Finn; “an’ all the +time ye do be holdin’ up our order, thinkin’ +to bluff us into amendin’ the contract. Is that +straight business, young felly?”</p> +<p>Joe flushed, for there was just a little truth in +the words.</p> +<p>“That’s not so,” he replied. “Your order will +go through, but I won’t rush it for you. And +if you’ll allow me to give you a pointer, Clancy, +it’s to the effect that you’re not in a position to +make insinuations.”</p> +<p>“I don’t insinuate, I talk straight,” retorted +Clancy. “I’m onto ye, young felly. Ye’ll keep +that contract to the letter, or I’ll know why!” +and he emphasized his ultimatum with an oath.</p> +<p>“Mr. Clancy,” said Joe icily, though his temper +was at boiling point, “we’ll dispense with +profanity. I do all the necessary swearing here +myself, understand. I won’t have strong language +or loud talk in my office.”</p> +<p>“Won’t ye?” shouted Clancy. “Why, ye +damned little——”</p> +<p>Joe Kent’s chair crashed back against the wall. +Its occupant put his hand on the desk and vaulted +it, alighting poised on his toes in front of the big +man so suddenly that the latter paused in sheer +amazement.</p> +<p>“Go ahead and say what you were going to,” +said Joe with a queer little shake in his voice; +“and then, you dirty mucker, I’ll give you a +lesson in manners!”</p> +<p>Finn Clancy would have tackled a Dago armed +with a knife or a construction hand holding a +shovel without an instant’s hesitation, for he +was quite devoid of physical fear and a scrapper +to his fingers’ tips. But to have a quiet, brown-eyed +young man suddenly leap a desk in an +orderly business office and challenge him was so +surprising that he paused.</p> +<p>He took careful note of the steady, watchful +eyes, the sweep of the lean jaw, the two brown +fists swinging to just the slightest oscillation +of the tensed forearms, and the poise of the body +on the gripping feet; and he knew that if his +tongue uttered the words on the tip of it those +fists would smash into him with all the driving +power of a very fine pair of shoulders behind +them.</p> +<p>Knowing it, his lips opened to speak the words; +and Joe Kent, who had mastered the difficult +art of starting a punch from wherever his hand +happened to be, tautened his arm and shoulder +muscles to steel.</p> +<p>John Clancy intervened.</p> +<p>“There’s enough of this,” he said. “Dry +up, Finn. For why wud ye start rough-house +wid the lad? An’ you, Kent, ’tis wan punch ye’d +have, an’ then he’d kill ye.” He pushed roughly +between them and took his brother by the shoulder. +“Come on out o’ here, Finn, now. Lave +him be, I tell ye!”</p> +<p>“I won’t,” said Finn. “I’ll tell him what I +think iv him. An’ if he makes a pass at me, +Jawn, I’ll break him acrost me knee!”</p> +<p>“An’ be pulled f’r it, wid yer name in the +papers, an’ a fine, an’ a lawyer to pay, an’ all,” +said his brother bitterly. “Have some sense. +I’ll not stand f’r it, an’ I warn ye!”</p> +<p>“Let him go, and stand out of the way!” cried +Joe. “There’ll be no law about it, Clancy, I +promise you that, whichever way it goes.” His +blood was dancing in his veins and he laughed +nastily in the surge of his anger. He fairly +hungered to whirl two-handed into this big, beefy +Irishman, and give or take a first-class licking.</p> +<p>John Clancy put his open hand on his brother’s +breast and pushed him back. “Ye’re a pair +of fools,” he announced dispassionately. “Can’t +ye talk over a business matter widout scrappin’? +Be ashamed! It’s little good ye’ve done yerself, +Kent, this day. Finn, come on out of here!”</p> +<p>“All right,” growled Finn as he took a step +toward the door, propelled by his brother’s +insistent hand. “Lave me be, Jawn. I’ll get +him another time. Mind ye, now,” he cried to +Kent, “we mane to have every foot of timber the +contract calls for, an’ no shenanigan about ut! +An’ ye may bless yer stars for Jawn, here, me +bucko. Only for him I’d have lamed ye!”</p> +<p>Joe did not reply to the threat. “When you +came in I was willing to stay with the contract, +even at a loss,” he said. “Now, I tell you +straight that if there’s a way out of it you won’t +get another foot of boards from me.”</p> +<p>John Clancy grinned at him. “Hunt for +holes in it, an’ welcome,” he said dryly. “If +our lawyers is bum we want to know it, so we can +change ’em. Nicholas K. Ryan drawed that +agreement. I’m thinkin’ ye couldn’t break it +wid dynymite.”</p> +<p>When they had gone Joe dug his copy of the +agreement out of the safe and went to see Locke.</p> +<p>“I want to know,” he said, “if this agreement +will hold water.”</p> +<p>Locke barely glanced at the document.</p> +<p>“Ryan drew this, and your father signed it +against my advice,” he said. “Hold water? +It would hold gas. What’s the matter? Aren’t +they living up to it?”</p> +<p>“Living up to it? I should say they are!” +exclaimed Joe. “That’s just the trouble. I +want to know if there’s a way out of this for +me?” He explained the position, and the lawyer +listened, frowning.</p> +<p>“They’re a sweet pair,” he commented. “And +so you want to dodge out of an agreement with +them because you stand to lose money on it?”</p> +<p>Joe reddened. Baldly put it amounted to +just that, though in the heat of his anger he had +lost sight of his former scruples.</p> +<p>“They’ve rubbed you the wrong way,” said +Locke, “and no doubt they’re too crooked to +lie straight in a ditch, but that doesn’t affect +this contract. You can’t break it.”</p> +<p>“If I haven’t a chance I won’t fight,” said +Joe. “I guess you’re right about the ethics +of the case, too. They made me so mad I forgot +that side of it. Of course they knew the +railway was going to jump the rate on us. Have +you any idea why it was jumped.”</p> +<p>“I suppose they knew you’d have to stand +for it,” said Locke, grimly. “That’s enough +reason for any railroad.”</p> +</div> +<div class="section" id="vii"> +<h2 class="title section-title level-2">VII</h2> +<p>Coincident with the rise in the freight +rate the car shortage became a thing of +the past. Orders from Clancy Brothers +poured in and were filled as slowly as possible. +Around them flourished a mass of acrid correspondence—complaints +and threats from the +consignees, tart rejoinders from Kent. In other +quarters sales were slow and small, for the time +was one of money stringency. Credit, once long +and easy, contracted, and the men who held the +purse-strings drew them tight.</p> +<p>Hagel, of the Commercial Bank, communicated +his directors’ decision as to the maturing +notes, with his usual verbose solemnity. Done +into plain English it amounted to this: The +directors insisted on having the notes reduced by +half, and they didn’t care a hoot for the Kent +current account.</p> +<p>Kent thereupon drew a check for his balance +and took it to the Farmers’ National, where he +had already made tentative arrangements. New +notes were signed, the Commercial paid off, and +the securities held by them transferred to the +Farmers’. That incident was closed.</p> +<p>Joe found McDowell a vast improvement upon +Hagel. Where the latter had backed and filled +and referred to his directors, McDowell, to whom +responsibility was as the breath of life, decided +instantly. He was less bound by routine and +tradition, more willing to take a chance, and in +closer touch with the exigencies of modern business. +But for all that he never lost sight of his +bank’s interests, and his impartial and cool +advice was of inestimable benefit to Joe. Also +he made it very plain that while his institution +would meet any reasonable proposition more +than half way, it would protect itself first, last, +and all the time. But their policy was a more +liberal one than the Commercial’s.</p> +<p>Thus Joe was able to pay the interest on the +mortgages held by the Northern Loan Company. +This was overdue, and the mortgagees had threatened +legal proceedings. And he was able, also, +to accompany his tender for the choice Wind River +limits by a marked check, a necessary formality +which had cost him some sleepless nights.</p> +<p>Naturally neither Crooks nor Kent sat down +quietly under the new freight rate. They protested +warmly, and, protests failing, deputed +Locke to handle the matter for them. Locke +went straight to headquarters, as was his custom. +Henry J. Beemer, the general manager of the +Peninsular Railway, tilted back his chair and +knocked the ashes from his cigar.</p> +<p>“As a matter of fact, Locke,” he said, “there +never was a freight rate that pleased everybody.”</p> +<p>“Certainly not this one,” Locke replied. “It +pleases no one.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I don’t know,” said Beemer. “It’s +not such a bad rate. We have the usual number +of complaints, but nothing more. Before promulgating +it we made inquiries——”</p> +<p>“From my clients?” Locke interrupted sceptically.</p> +<p>“No, I’m afraid we overlooked them. But +we have letters from several large lumber shippers +and dealers. Like to read them?”</p> +<p>Locke nodded. He perused the letters produced, +with a sardonic smile.</p> +<p>“Very pretty,” he commented, handing them +back. “You couldn’t have worded them better +yourself. They wouldn’t deceive a child.”</p> +<p>“Do you insinuate that they are not genuine?” +asked Beemer sharply, frowning.</p> +<p>“They’re not forgeries, but that lets them out,” +said Locke. “They’re inspired, every one of +them. The signatories would admit it under oath, +too. Are you paying them rebates?”</p> +<p>“Illegal,” said Beemer, recovering his usual +suavity.</p> +<p>“Yes—but are you?” Locke retorted.</p> +<p>“I’m not in the witness box,” said Beemer.</p> +<p>“You will be, one of these days,” Locke predicted. +“Then we’ll thresh out the letters and +the rebate question, if I have the cross-examining +of you.”</p> +<p>Beemer smiled rather uneasily. “We don’t +seem to be getting ahead. What do you want +us to do?”</p> +<p>“Restore the old rate. My clients—or one +of them—made contracts on the faith of it.”</p> +<p>“Shouldn’t have done it,” said Beemer. “Good +heavens! You, as a lawyer, can’t hold us responsible +for that.”</p> +<p>“No, but you see how the new rate hits them.”</p> +<p>“We were losing money on the old one,” +said Beemer. “This has just gone into effect. +We must see how it works. I won’t promise +anything, but later we may be able to reduce +it.”</p> +<p>“That isn’t satisfactory,” Locke told him +bluntly. “I shall advise my clients to file a +complaint with the Transportation Commission.”</p> +<p>Beemer laughed. The commission was notoriously +slow and over-loaded with work. Taken +in its order of priority the complaint would not, +in all probability, be disposed of inside a year.</p> +<p>“Go ahead!” he said indifferently.</p> +<p>“All right,” said Locke. “Give me a list of +your directors.”</p> +<p>“What do you want that for?”</p> +<p>“I want to find out, if I can, how many or which +of them will benefit by this increased rate on +lumber.”</p> +<p>“Confound it, Locke,” snapped Beemer, “that’s +another insinuation. It amounts to a charge of +manipulation of rates.”</p> +<p>“Which is, of course, absurd,” said Locke +ironically. “Will you give me the names, or +must I get them another way?”</p> +<p>That night he and Crooks went carefully over +the list of directors. They found several names +whose owners were more or less connected with +lumber interests, though just how they benefited +by the new rate was not apparent, unless they received +rebates in some form, as doubtless they did.</p> +<p>“As to Carney it’s plain enough,” said Crooks. +“His business is over on the O. & N. The rise +won’t touch him and will cut us out of his +markets.”</p> +<p>“That’s so,” responded Locke. “Now, take +Ackerman. I know he’s mixed up in about +everything, but I never heard that he had lumber +interests.”</p> +<p>“He tried to get young Kent to turn his +business into a stock company, and failing that +to sell it,” said Crooks.</p> +<p>“The devil he did? Then we may assume his +interest. But what is it?”</p> +<p>Neither could answer the question. Mr. Ackerman’s +varied activities were not blazoned +forth to the world. He was more prominent in +finance than in commerce, and so far as they +knew he was not identified with any lumber +business.</p> +<p>“But he must be,” said Locke thoughtfully. +“I’ll see what I can find out. It’s strange. +I wonder——” He broke off abruptly and +pulled out a drawer of his desk, burrowing +among the papers. “Yes, here we are. Huh!” +He laid two papers side by side and ran his eye +down them. “By the Lord Harry, Crooks, +Ackerman is a director of the Peninsular Railway, +of the Commercial Bank, and of the Northern +Loan Company!”</p> +<p>“Is, hey?” Crooks did not see the connection. +“He’s in a lot of things besides.”</p> +<p>“Don’t you get it?” Locke rapped out. “That +bank was Joe Kent’s till they tried to squeeze +him and he changed. The loan company hold +his mortgages and threatened foreclosure for an +instalment of interest not much overdue. The +railway makes a rate that loses money for him. +And Ackerman, director in all three concerns, +tries to get hold of his business. What do you +think of that?”</p> +<p>Crooks’s thought compressed itself into one +forcible word.</p> +<p>“So there’s a coon in the tree somewhere,” +Locke pursued. “Now, here’s another thing: +Clancy Brothers knew of the intended change +before the new rate was promulgated. The +contract which they tried to obtain would have +been absolutely ruinous to Kent. The one they +have is bad enough. Therefore we seem to be +warranted in assuming some connection between +Ackerman and the Clancys.”</p> +<p>The assumption seemed warranted but did not +put them much further forward. Out of their +speculations two salient points emerged: Some +person or persons were hammering the lumber +interests along the Peninsular Railway, and Kent’s +in particular; and Mr. Stanley Ackerman represented +the people who wielded the hammer.</p> +<p>Joe, when told of their deductions, was not +nearly as surprised and indignant as he would +have been a couple of months before. He was +learning in a hard school, and hardening in the +process. And his brief and pointed reference +to Ackerman, the Clancys, <em>et hoc genus omne</em>, +would have done credit to old Bill Crooks in his +most vitriolic mood.</p> +<p>“Showing the effect of a modern college education +upon the vocabulary,” Locke commented +dryly.</p> +<p>Joe grinned mirthlessly. “They’re all that +and then some,” he said. “I’ll show them yet.”</p> +<p>Therefore it was unfortunate for Mr. Stanley +Ackerman that he should have chosen this +juncture for a second call upon the son of his +highly respected deceased acquaintance, William +Kent.</p> +<p>Joe had just finished reading a letter from that +eminent lawyer, Nicholas K. Ryan, setting forth +the law in the matter of breach of contract, when +Mr. Ackerman’s accurately engraved card was +handed to him. Followed Mr. Ackerman, perfectly +dressed, bland, and smiling. His manner +had lost nothing in warmth; indeed it was, if +possible, more fatherly than ever. He beamed +upon Joe, greatly to that young man’s disgust.</p> +<p>“Well, Mr. Ackerman,” he said shortly, “what +can I do for you?”</p> +<p>“Why, my dear boy, that is exactly what I +was about to ask <em>you</em>,” replied Mr. Ackerman. +“I promised myself that the first time I was in +Falls City I would drop in and ask if I could be +of <em>any</em> assistance in <em>any</em> way.”</p> +<p>“Awfully kind of you,” said Joe in a tone which +should have given his visitor warning.</p> +<p>“Not a bit of it, my boy. The signs point +to hard times, and the advice of one who has—hem!—a +certain amount of business experience +may not come amiss. What can I do +for you? Out with it! How is the business?”</p> +<p>“The business,” said Joe grimly, “is doing +about as well as can be expected—under the +circumstances.”</p> +<p>Involuntarily his eyes sought the letter lying +open on his desk. So did Mr. Ackerman’s, and as +he recognized the huge, sprawling signature of +that eminent attorney, Nicholas K. Ryan, a +satisfied comprehension came into them.</p> +<p>“Ah,” he said, “you feel the prevailing depression +already. I am sorry to say—hem!—it +is only beginning. These things move in cycles. +Buoyant trade, optimism, expansion; over-expansion, +falling trade, pessimism. We are on +the down grade now, and have not nearly reached +the lowest point. It may be one year or two or +three before there is a revival. Those whose +businesses are sound will weather the storm; but +those who are unprepared will perhaps founder.”</p> +<p>“Well, I’ll weather it all right, if that’s what +you mean,” said Joe.</p> +<p>“I hope so—I sincerely hope so,” said Mr. +Ackerman in a tone which implied grave doubt. +“By the way, since I was here I mentioned in a +certain quarter—no matter where—the possibility +of your being willing to stock your business +or sell it, and I think a very good arrangement +might be made—good from your standpoint, I +mean. Let me tell you just what might be done.”</p> +<p>“I won’t trouble you,” said Joe. “I told you +once I wasn’t open to anything of the kind.”</p> +<p>“But this would be most advantageous,” +Ackerman persisted. “It would allow you to +retain practical control of the business and give +you more money than you are making at present.”</p> +<p>“Drop it!” rasped Joe. “You and your +friends will get hold of the pieces of my business +when you smash it and me, and not before.”</p> +<p>Mr. Ackerman was amazed, shocked, and +pained. At least his face assumed an expression +combining all three emotions.</p> +<p>“My <em>dear</em> boy——”</p> +<p>“What’s the use?” Joe interrupted hotly. +“I know more about you than I did. You and +your fellow directors of the railway raised the +rate on lumber and tipped off the Clancys in +advance. You nearly got me on that. You and +your fellow directors of the bank tried to close +me out when my security was ample. You and +your fellow directors of the loan company wouldn’t +give me an ordinary extension of time for an +interest payment. And if I went into any such +arrangement as you seem prepared to suggest +you’d cut my throat and throw me overboard +when it suited you. And so, Mr. Ackerman, +I think we may as well close this interview +now.”</p> +<p>“I assure you——” Mr. Ackerman began +earnestly.</p> +<p>“Don’t!” Joe interrupted curtly. “I wouldn’t +believe you.”</p> +<p>Mr. Stanley Ackerman rose and held out his +hand, a smile, tolerant and forgiving, illuminating +a countenance which, to tell the truth, was somewhat +red.</p> +<p>“I’d rather not, thanks,” said Joe, looking at +the hand. His tone was so thoroughly contemptuous +that Mr. Ackerman’s beautiful smile +vanished.</p> +<p>“All right, then, young man,” he snapped. +“This is the last offer you’ll get from me. And +in future you need expect no consideration from +any institution with which I am identified. Go +ahead and run your own little business, and see +what happens.”</p> +<p>Joe brightened instantly.</p> +<p>“That’s better talk—and I believe you are +telling the truth for once,” he said cheerfully. +“That’s precisely what I’m going to do.”</p> +<p>Mr. Ackerman’s lips opened in a further remark; +but thinking better of it he shut them again and +left the office, wearing his dignity about him as a +mantle. He brushed past Wright in the hall, +and the latter whistled his astonishment, for the +highly respectable and usually unperturbed twin +brother of Capital was swearing through his teeth +in a way that would have increased the reputation +of any drunken pirate who ever infested the +Florida Keys.</p> +</div> +<div class="section" id="viii"> +<h2 class="title section-title level-2">VIII</h2> +<p>The year drew into September, time of +goldenrod, browning grasses, crisp, clear +mornings and hazy, dreamy days. The +shanty lads began to straggle back to town from +little backwoods farms where they had spent the +summer loafing or increasing the size of the clearings, +from mills, from out-of-the-way holes and +corners. They haunted the lumber companies’ +offices looking for jobs. There things began to +hum with the bustle of preparation and owners +held long consultations with walking bosses and +laid plans for the winter’s campaign.</p> +<p>Kent’s tender for the choice Wind River +limits was accepted, somewhat to his surprise +and to Crooks’s profane amazement. The latter, +through the good offices of a middleman working +for his rake-off, secured the limits on Rat Lake. +Remained the question of how the logs should be +cut, and when.</p> +<p>Joe, after taking counsel with Crooks, Wright, +and Locke, decided on his course. That winter +he would make a supreme effort to cut every +stick he could, and sell them in the drive, retaining +only enough logs to run his mill on half time +or a little better. This seemed the only thing +to do. Locke had been unable to push his complaint +anent the freight rate to a hearing before +the commission.</p> +<p>Kent’s liabilities were piling up and maturing; +the general financial stringency was increasing, as +predicted by Ackerman; his timber sales, taking +into consideration the unprofitable contract with +the Clancys, showed a very narrow margin; and +the consensus of advice he received was to +market his raw product while he could, reduce his +liabilities as much as possible, and then sit tight +and hope for better luck and better times.</p> +<p>For once fortune seemed to play into his hand, +for while he was considering the question of opening +negotiations for the disposal of the surplus +logs the following spring he received a letter +from Wismer & Holden, who were very large +millmen and did little logging, either jobbing +out such limits as they bought or buying their +logs from loggers who had no mills. The letter +stated that they wished to obtain from twenty +million feet upward, in the log, deliverable +at their booms not later than July 1st of +the following year. They offered a good +price, and were prepared to pay cash on delivery. +And they wished to know if Kent could +supply them with the above quantity of logs, or, +if not, what part of it.</p> +<p>This was too good a proposition to be neglected, +and Joe immediately took train and called on +Wismer & Holden. In half an hour the preliminaries +were settled.</p> +<p>“You understand,” said Wismer, “that we +must have these logs by July 1st. A later date +won’t do.”</p> +<p>“I can get them down by then, of course,” +said Joe.</p> +<p>“Then we might as well close the deal now,” +said Wismer, and called his stenographer. He +dictated an agreement from a form which he took +from his desk. In this agreement was a clause +providing a penalty for non-delivery by the date +named. Joe was not versed in legal terminology, +but it read pretty stiff and he took objection to it.</p> +<p>“That’s our ordinary form of delivery contract,” +said Wismer. “We have to protect ourselves +somehow. We give you ample margin for delivery, +you see, but we’ve got to have some +guarantee that you’ll make good, because we +make other contracts in the expectation of getting +the logs by a certain date. If we didn’t +get them we’d be up against it.”</p> +<p>That seemed reasonable enough, and Joe signed +the instrument. But when a few days afterward +he showed it to Locke, the lawyer pounced +on that clause like a hawk, switched over to the +last page, looked at Joe’s signature duly witnessed, +and groaned.</p> +<p>“Boy, what on earth did you sign that for? +Did they chloroform you?”</p> +<p>“What’s the matter with it?” asked Joe.</p> +<p>“Matter with it?” snorted Locke. “Why, +it’s a man-trap, nothing short of it. Can’t you +read, or didn’t you read? If you didn’t know +what you were signing there’s a glimmer of hope.”</p> +<p>“I read the thing,” Joe admitted.</p> +<p>“And yet you signed it! Why, you young come +on, if you fail to deliver by July 1st they may +refuse to accept any logs whatever; and, moreover, +you become their debtor and bind yourself +to pay an amount which they say is ascertained +damages for non-performance. Do you get that +with any degree of clarity?”</p> +<p>“Oh, that’s all right, I guess,” said Joe, and +repeated Wismer’s explanation. “I’m sure to +have the logs down early in June, so it doesn’t +matter.”</p> +<p>“Any clause in a contract matters,” said Locke. +“You’re gambling on a date. The amount they +specify as damages is an arbitrary one, and may +be twice as great as the loss to them. This is +another of Nick Ryan’s deadfalls—I recognize +the turn of the phrases—and he’s got the +little joker tucked inside, as usual. After this +don’t you sign a blame thing without showing +it to me.”</p> +<p>Locke’s words would have caused Joe some +uneasiness but for the fact that he was sure of +making delivery. Having arranged a market +for his logs, or, rather, one having arranged itself +for him, the next thing was to provide the logs +themselves. He and Wright held council with +McKenna, Tobin, Deever, and MacNutt, the +former being Kent’s walking boss and the last +three his foremen.</p> +<p>The winter’s work was divided in this way: +Deever and Tobin were to finish cutting the +limits on the Missabini; MacNutt was to take +the Wind River limit, just acquired; Dennis +McKenna, the walking boss, had a general +oversight of the camps, but would divide his +time between Tobin’s and Deever’s, after locating +the camp at Wind River, which limit he had +cruised before the purchase.</p> +<p>Immediately on reaching this decision, the +foremen got together the nucleus of crews.</p> +<p>“Why don’t you go up to the Wind with McKenna +and take a look at things?” said Crooks.</p> +<p>Joe welcomed the suggestion with enthusiasm. +He had been sticking pretty closely to the office, +and the prospect of a couple of weeks in the open +air was attractive.</p> +<p>Three days later saw him trudging beside McKenna +and MacNutt, while behind them a wagon +laden with tents, blankets, food, and tools bumped +and jolted.</p> +<p>They left roads behind, and plunged into unmarked, +uncharted country where the wheels +sank half-way to the hubs in damp, green moss, +crashed through fern to the horses’ bellies, or +skidded perilously on rocky hillsides. Ahead, +McKenna piloted his crew, a light axe in his hand, +gashing the trees with blazes at frequent intervals. +He blazed them both back and front, +until the road was plainly marked so that going +and coming the way might be seen. To Joe +the instinct of the old woodsman was marvellous. +He made no mistakes, never hesitated, never +cast back. But always he followed the lines of +the least natural resistance, and somehow these +lines, which he apparently carried in his head, +became a fairly straight route to an objective +point.</p> +<p>There were obstacles easier to surmount than +to avoid—logs to be cut and thrown aside, +pole bridges to be built, bits of corduroy to be +laid in shaky places; merely temporary things, +these, for the flying column. Later others would +make a road of it, but at present anything that +would carry team and wagon served. So the +crew slashed out a way with double-bitted or +two-faced axes—“Methodist axes,” as they were +called in an unwarranted reflection upon that +excellent denomination—throwing light, frail +bridges together with wonderful celerity, twisting +fallen timber out of the way with peavey-hook +and cant-dog, and doing the work effortlessly +and easily, for they were one and all experts +with the tools of their trade, and such work was +child’s play to them.</p> +<p>In due course they arrived at the site chosen +by McKenna when he had cruised the limit. +It was a natural opening, ringed about with +towering, feathery-headed pines. At one end +it sloped down to alder and willow through which +a little stream slid gently between brown roots +and mossy banks. This meant water supply. +Ruffed grouse roared up from under Joe’s feet +as he parted the bushes, and when he rose to his +knees, having drunk his fill lying flat on the +ground, he saw a big, brown swamp hare, already +graying about the ears, watching him not twenty +feet away. Also, in a bare and muddy place, he +saw the pointed tracks of deer, and dog-like prints +which were those of a stray wolf. However, he +had not come to hunt.</p> +<p>Tents came out of the wagon and were rammed +up and made fast in short order. The cook dug +a shallow trench and built his fireplace, drove +forked stakes, laid a stout, green pole between +them, slung his pot-hooks on it and below them +his pots, and so was ready to minister to the needs +of the inner man. With tape-line and pegs McKenna +laid out the ground plans of bunk-house, +eating-camp, caboose, foreman’s quarters, and +stables. At a safe distance he located the dynamite +storehouse.</p> +<p>Already the crashing fall of trees announced +that the crew was getting out timbers for the +buildings, and Joe watched the work of axes +and saws with a species of fascination. No sooner +did a tree strike the ground than men were on it, +measuring, trimming, cutting it to length. When +a square timber was required, one man cut notches +three feet apart down the sides of a prostrate +trunk and split off the slabs. Another, a lean, +wasp-waisted tiemaker, stripped to underclothes +and moccasins, mounted one end with a huge, +razor-edged broad-axe which was the pride of his +heart. Every stroke fell to a hair. He hewed +a straight line by judgment of eye alone, and the +result was a stick of square or half-square timber, +absolutely straight, and almost as smooth as if +planed.</p> +<p>As fast as the logs were ready the teamster +grappled them with hook and chain, and the big +horses yanked them out into position. Another +wagon and more men arrived. Buildings grew +as if by magic. The wall-logs were mortised and +skidded up into place; the whole was roofed in; +the chinks were stuffed with moss and plastered +with wet clay; bunks in tiers were built around the +walls; tables and benches knocked together in +no time; and the Wind River camp was finished +and ready for occupation.</p> +<p>While these preparations were going forward, +Joe, McKenna, and MacNutt prowled the woods +at such times as the last two had to spare from +construction work. The walking boss and the +foreman sized up the situation with the sure +rapidity of experts. They knew just how many +feet of timber a given area held, how long it should +take so many men to cut it, and in how many +loads, given good sleigh-roads, it should be +hauled out to the banking grounds at the river.</p> +<p>“It’ll depend a lot on the season, of course,” +said McKenna. “If she’s a fair winter—a +powder of snow and good frost for a bottom and +then snow and hard weather with odd flurries +to make good slippin’—we can get out all we +cut. But if she freezes hard and dry, and the +snow’s late and scanty or hits us all in a bunch +when it comes, it will put us back. Or if mild +weather gets here early and the roads break it +will be bad.”</p> +<p>As the walking boss spoke he and Joe were +standing at the top of a height looking down a +vista of brown tree-trunks which sloped gently +away to a dense cedar swamp. Suddenly Joe’s +eye caught a moving figure and he pointed it +out to McKenna.</p> +<p>“It can’t be one of our men,” said the latter; +“we’d better see who it is.”</p> +<p>As the stranger came into plain view, heading +straight for them, McKenna gave a grunt of +recognition and displeasure.</p> +<p>“That’s Shan McCane!”</p> +<p>“Never heard of him,” said Joe carelessly.</p> +<p>“You don’t miss much,” the walking boss +commented. “‘Rough Shan,’ they call him. +The name fits.”</p> +<p>Mr. McCane was no beauty. He was big, and +looked fleshy, but was not. A deceptive slouchiness +of carriage covered the quickness of a cat +when necessary. His cheeks and chin bristled with +a beard of the texture and colour of a worn-out +blacking brush; his nose had a cant to the northeast, +and his left eye was marred by a sinister cast. +Add to these a chronic, ferocious scowl and subtract +two front teeth, and you have the portrait +of Rough Shan McCane, as Joe saw him. For +attire he wore a greasy flannel shirt, open in front +so that his great, mossy chest was bare to the +winds, short trousers held in place by a frayed +leather strap, and a pair of fourteen-inch larrigans. +He and McKenna greeted each other without +enthusiasm.</p> +<p>“Cruisin’?” asked the walking boss.</p> +<p>“Nope,” replied McCane. “I got a camp over +here a ways. I’m cuttin’ Clancys’ limit.”</p> +<p>“Clancys’!” said Joe in surprise, for Clancy +Brothers had purchased the next limit in the +name of a third party a couple of years before +and their interest did not appear. “Do they own +timber here?”</p> +<p>“Their limit butts on your east line,” McCane +told him.</p> +<p>“How do you get your logs out?” asked McKenna.</p> +<p>“We’ll haul down to Lebret Creek and drive +that to the Wind.”</p> +<p>McKenna nodded. The Kent logs would be +driven down Wind River. Lebret Creek lay +east of it. It was a small stream, but fast and +good driving.</p> +<p>“Well, I must be gettin’ back,” said McCane. +“Your timber runs better than ours. So long!”</p> +<p>He nodded and slouched off. McKenna looked +after him and shook his head.</p> +<p>“I’d rather have any one else jobbin’ Clancys’ +limit,” he observed. “McCane keeps a bad +camp an’ feeds his crew on whiskey. He has a +wild bunch of Callahans, Red McDougals, and +Charbonneaus workin’ for him always. No +other man could hold ’em down.”</p> +<p>“How does he get his work done with whiskey +in camp?” Joe asked.</p> +<p>“He can make a man work, drunk or sober—or +else he half kills him. The worst is that with +a booze-camp handy our boys will get it once in +awhile. Still, MacNutt can hold ’em down. McCane +laid him out a couple of years ago with a +peavey, and he hates him. He won’t stand any +nonsense. A good man is Mac!”</p> +<p>MacNutt, the foreman of the Wind River crew, +was a lean, sinewy logger who had spent twenty +years in the camps. He owned a poisonous +tongue and a deadly temper when aroused; but +he had also a cool head, and put his employer’s +interests before all else. He heard the news in +silence.</p> +<p>“Of course we can’t stand for booze in the +camp,” said Joe. “If any man gets drunk on +whiskey from McCane’s camp or elsewhere, fire +him at once.” He thought he was putting the +seal of authority on a very severe measure.</p> +<p>MacNutt smiled sourly. “I won’t fire a good +man the first time—I’ll just knock the daylights +out of him,” he said. “As for McCane, I look +for trouble with him.” Suddenly he swore with +venom. “I’ll split his head with an axe if he +crowds me again!”</p> +<p>“Oh, come—” Joe began.</p> +<p>“Sounds like talk, I know,” MacNutt interrupted. +“But he nigh brained me with a peavey +once, when I had only my bare hands. It’s +coming to him, Mr. Kent. I’ll take nothing from +him nor his crew.”</p> +<p>Joe, on his way back to town the following +day, thought of MacNutt’s hard eyes and set +mouth, and felt assured that he would meet any +trouble half-way. His own disposition being +rather combative on occasion, he endorsed his +foreman’s attitude irrespective of the diplomacy +of it.</p> +</div> +<div class="section" id="ix"> +<h2 class="title section-title level-2">IX</h2> +<p>When he returned from Wind River, +Kent determined, after clearing off +what work had accumulated in his +absence, to pay a visit to Edith Garwood. He +sent no advance notice of his coming, and her +surprise at seeing him was considerably more apparent +than any joy she might have felt; for she +was carrying on an interesting affair with a young +gentleman who really did not know the extent of +resources which had been in his family in the +form of real estate for something over a century. +It was most annoying that Joe Kent should turn +up just then.</p> +<p>“I’m just going out,” she said. “Why didn’t +you tell me you were coming?”</p> +<p>“No particular reason,” said Joe, feeling +the coolness of his reception. “Does it +matter?”</p> +<p>“Of course it matters. I have made engagements which +I can’t very well break, even for +you. If you had told me——”</p> +<p>“Don’t worry,” said Joe. “I’ll take what’s +left. You’re going out, and I shan’t keep you. +May I call to-night?”</p> +<p>That evening happened to be blank. She gave +him the desired permission, and feeling that she +had perhaps shown her irritation too plainly, +asked him to accompany her.</p> +<p>“It’s an afternoon affair,” she explained, +“and of course you won’t care to come in; but +you may see me that far if you like, and the car +will set you down anywhere.”</p> +<p>As they entered the waiting car a gentleman on +the other side of the street raised his hat. Miss +Garwood bowed, and Joe acknowledged the salute +mechanically. It was only when the car shot +by the pedestrian that he recognized him as Mr. +Stanley Ackerman.</p> +<p>“Hello!” he exclaimed. “Do you know that +fellow?”</p> +<p>“Really, Joe,” she replied, “I wish you +wouldn’t speak of my father’s friends in that +way.” Her annoyance was genuine, but his +words were not the cause of it. She disliked +Ackerman and distrusted him. Also he knew the +young man with the real estate pedigree.</p> +<p>“I can’t congratulate your father on that particular +friend,” Kent observed bluntly, and became +thoughtful.</p> +<p>Mr. Ackerman looked after the car and became +thoughtful also. Shortly afterward he +entered Hugh Garwood’s office.</p> +<p>The president of the O. & N. would have been +spare and shapely if he had taken ordinary exercise; +but being far too busy a man to spend any +time on the trifling matter of physical well-being +his figure had run to seed. Only his head was +lean and alertly poised, by virtue of the keen, +ever-working brain within. The face was narrow, +hard, and determined; and the mouth, set awry +beneath the close-clipped gray moustache, was +ruthless and grim. It was, in fact, a fairly good +indication of his character and methods. He was +never known to forego an advantage of any kind, +and he was accustomed to bludgeon opponents +into submission without being particular where he +cut his clubs.</p> +<p>“Well, Ackerman,” he said, “what’s the news?”</p> +<p>Mr. Ackerman had no news. It was a fine day, +though cool. Beautiful weather. Made a man +want to be outdoors.</p> +<p>Garwood grunted. He was not interested in +the weather, save as it affected business. Snow +blockades and wash-outs and natural phenomena +producing them received his attention. Apart +from such things he scarcely knew whether a +day was fine or not.</p> +<p>“All very well for people who have time to +burn,” he commented. “I haven’t.”</p> +<p>“Young people enjoy it,” said Mr. Ackerman, +getting his opening. “I saw your daughter go by +in a car as I came downtown. Lovely girl that. +I thought she looked remarkably well and happy.”</p> +<p>“She ought to be happy,” said her father +grimly. “She spends enough money.”</p> +<p>“You can afford it. It won’t be long till some +one else is paying her bills. Plenty of young +men would think it a privilege.”</p> +<p>Garwood, from his knowledge of Mr. Ackerman’s +indirect methods of approach, suddenly +regarded him with attention.</p> +<p>“What are you driving at, anyway, Ackerman?” +he asked. “<em>You</em> don’t want to marry +her, do you?”</p> +<p>Mr. Ackerman disclaimed any such desire +with haste and evident sincerity. “There was a +very good-looking young fellow with her this +afternoon,” he observed.</p> +<p>“Trust her for that,” growled Garwood. “Who +was it? Young Statten?”</p> +<p>“No,” said Mr. Ackerman slowly, enjoying +the sensation in advance, “his name is Kent, +Joseph Kent of Falls City.”</p> +<p>“What?” cried Garwood, and straightened in +his chair as if he had received a shock, as indeed +he had.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Mr. Ackerman. “You remember +she was in Falls City for some weeks this summer. +I heard somewhere—you know how these things +get about—that she and Kent were—well, +in fact, I heard that they were together a great +deal.”</p> +<p>Garwood rapped out a man’s size oath. “Why +didn’t you tell me this before?”</p> +<p>“Knowing Miss Edith’s penchant for innocent +summer flirtations I attached no importance to +it,” smiled Mr. Ackerman.</p> +<p>Garwood sat frowning. “You may be right. +That girl would flirt with a man’s shadow. However, +I’ll put a stop to this at once. Now see here, +Ackerman, you’ve bungled the Kent matter so far.”</p> +<p>“I have not,” denied Mr. Ackerman indignantly. +“He simply would not sell. That’s +not my fault.”</p> +<p>Garwood dismissed the protest with an impatient +gesture. “The fact remains that I haven’t +got what I’m after. Crooks’s business and Kent’s +are all that prevent us from controlling the lumber +market on the O. & N. and the Peninsular. +Crooks is pretty strong, but this winter must +break Kent, and after that we’ll get Crooks. We +absolutely must have the water powers which +Kent owns. He has a fortune in them, if he only +knew it and had money enough to develop them, +and we also need his mills. We must have these +things, and there must be no mistake about it.”</p> +<p>“If he doesn’t deliver the logs he has contracted +to deliver——” Ackerman began, but Garwood +cut him short.</p> +<p>“It must be made impossible for him to deliver +them. If he makes good it gives him a new +lease of life and delays our plans; but if he doesn’t +cut the logs he can’t deliver them, whether his +drive is hung up or not.”</p> +<p>“It was against my advice that his tender for +the Wind River limits went through.”</p> +<p>“I know. But he could ill afford to put up +the cash for them. His credit is becoming badly +strained. A small cut or non-delivery will be +fatal to him.”</p> +<p>“But how can we prevent his cutting?”</p> +<p>“Really, Ackerman, you are dense to-day,” said +Garwood. “Clancy Brothers have timber near +Wind River. We can’t touch the other camps, so +far as I can see at present, but if you represent +matters properly to the Clancys I think they will +look after that one.”</p> +<p>When Garwood went home that evening he +called his daughter into his private room and +went straight to the point.</p> +<p>“Now, Edith,” said he, “I want to know +what there is between you and young Kent.”</p> +<p>She flushed angrily, immediately fixing the +responsibility for the leak on Ackerman. “Who +told you there was anything between us?”</p> +<p>“Never mind. Is it a fact?”</p> +<p>“Is what a fact?”</p> +<p>“Don’t beat about the bush with me. How +far has this flirtation of yours gone?”</p> +<p>“Not very far,” she answered calmly. +“Mr. Kent has merely asked me to marry +him.”</p> +<p>“What!” cried Garwood, “you don’t mean +to tell me you’re engaged?”</p> +<p>“I suppose we are—in a way.”</p> +<p>“This must stop,” said Garwood. “I thought +you had more sense. You can’t marry him. +He is a nobody; he is on the verge of bankruptcy; +he is merely after my money.”</p> +<p>She cast a sidewise glance at a long mirror and +laughed at the lovely reflection. “You are not +complimentary, papa. Don’t you think a +young man might fall in love with me for +myself?”</p> +<p>“I am not talking of love, but of marriage,” +said Garwood cynically. “I won’t have it, I +tell you. You must drop Kent now.”</p> +<p>“Why?”</p> +<p>“Because I say so,” said her father, his mouth +setting firmly. “I won’t mince matters with +you, Edith. Inside a year Kent will be looking +for a clerk’s job. You’re not cut out for a poor +man’s wife.”</p> +<p>“You mean that if I married him you would +give me nothing?”</p> +<p>“You grasp my meaning exactly. Not a cent +during my life nor after my death.”</p> +<p>Edith Garwood sighed as plaintively as she +could; but it was in fact a sigh of relief. It was +put up to her so squarely that she had no choice, +as she looked at it. She was already tired of +Kent, anxious for an excuse to break with him, +and she had secretly dreaded the affair coming to +her father’s knowledge. Now the worst was over. +And she saw an opportunity of avoiding a scene +with Joe, which she had dreaded also.</p> +<p>“Of course I haven’t been brought up to marry +a poor man,” she said. “We would both be miserable, +if it came to that. So it would be a mistake, +wouldn’t it?”</p> +<p>“Undoubtedly,” responded Garwood, who, +having carried his point much more easily than +he expected, found a certain amusement in her +mental processes, as one is entertained by the +antics of a kitten.</p> +<p>“Then I suppose I shall have to give him up,” +she continued, with another beautifully plaintive +sigh. “He is to call to-night. Will you tell +him? Or shall I write him a note?”</p> +<p>“No doubt you know the correct procedure,” +said Garwood. “Write your note and give it to +me. Make it firm and definite.”</p> +<p>She nodded agreement. “And now, papa, +don’t you think I am a very dutiful, self-sacrificing +daughter?”</p> +<p>Garwood reached for his check-book with a +smile of grim comprehension. “How much does +it cost me this time?” he asked.</p> +<p>When Joe called that evening he was shown into +Hugh Garwood’s study. The railway man, seated +at his desk, eyed him keenly. Kent found the +scrutiny unfriendly, and stiffened.</p> +<p>“I called to see Miss Garwood,” said he. “My +name is Kent.”</p> +<p>“Sit down, Mr. Kent,” said Garwood. “My +daughter has given me this note for you. Will +you please read it.”</p> +<p>Joe read. It was brief and to the point, and +wound up with perfunctory regrets. There was +no possibility of misunderstanding it. He folded +the missive.</p> +<p>“I presume you know the contents of this +letter, Mr. Garwood?”</p> +<p>“I am aware of them, yes.”</p> +<p>“Miss Garwood says that you object to her +engagement to me. Will you kindly tell me why?”</p> +<p>“With pleasure. You are not in a position +to marry, and you entrapped my daughter into +a clandestine engagement, which was not a manly +thing to do. In fact, to put it very plainly, you +are trying to marry money.”</p> +<p>“To put it just as plainly,” said Joe, flushing, +“I don’t care about your money at all. I am in +a position to marry. The secret engagement I +own up to and take the blame for. I shouldn’t +have consented to it.”</p> +<p>“Consented?” said Garwood sharply. “Then +it was my daughter who suggested that?”</p> +<p>“Not at all,” said Joe, lying manfully as he +felt bound to do after the slip. “It was my fault +entirely.”</p> +<p>Garwood smiled cynically. “You needn’t +shoulder all the blame. I know her better than +you do.” He was rather surprised at the equanimity +with which Kent accepted his dismissal. +He had looked for a stormy interview with a disappointed, +unreasonable youth who would protest +and indulge in heroics. He felt quite kindly +toward this young man, whose business, nevertheless, +he intended to smash. Inwardly he made a +note to offer him some sort of a job when that +was accomplished. “I take back what I said +a moment ago. But you must understand that +there can be nothing between you and my +daughter.”</p> +<p>“I think I understand that very well,” said +Joe. “Glad to have made your acquaintance, +Mr. Garwood. By the way, please tell Mr. +Ackerman I recognized him to-day. Good night.”</p> +<p>Edith Garwood, peeping from behind a drawn +blind, expected to see an utterly crushed being +slink from the house. What she saw was an +erect young man who paused on the steps to light +a cigar, cocked it up at a jaunty angle, and went +down the street head up and shoulders back.</p> +<p>In fact, Joe Kent was shaking hands with +himself. He had known for some time that his +feeling for Edith Garwood fell far short of love; +but as he looked at it, he could not tell her so. +So that his dismissal, instead of plunging him +into the depths of gloom, boosted his spirits sky-high.</p> +<p>“Thank the Lord!” he exclaimed fervently as +he swung down the street. “Joe, my son, let +this be a lesson to you. Cut out the girl proposition +and stick to business.” He became +thoughtful. “So old Ackerman’s a friend of +Garwood’s. And Garwood tells me I’m not in +a position to marry. I wonder how he knows +so much about it? I wonder——” He did not +complete the sentence, but Garwood’s words +stuck in his recollection.</p> +</div> +<div class="section" id="x"> +<h2 class="title section-title level-2">X</h2> +<p>When Mr. Ackerman, following the hint +received from Garwood, called at the +office of Clancy Brothers, his reception +was nothing short of frosty.</p> +<p>John Clancy was alone, and he regarded his +visitor from beneath a lowering brow.</p> +<p>“Now, here’s what I want to know about,” +said he. “How does it come that Kent gets +them limits at Wind River? We tendered for them +ourselves.”</p> +<p>“Likely his tender was higher,” said Mr. +Ackerman with assumed carelessness.</p> +<p>“An’ what’s that got to do wid it?” demanded +Clancy, who appeared to find this explanation +inadequate. “Don’t we give up strong to th’ +campaign fund? Neither young Kent nor his +father ever gave a cent to it, and their politics +is the other way. It’s a raw deal we got, an’ +ye can say that we’ll remember it. If them limits +had gone to one of our own people we’d have said +nawthin’, for we could have fixed it wid him or +he’d a had to fix it wid us. But th’ way it is +we’re sore, an’ we make no bones about sayin’ +so. Where’s his pull, that’s what we want to +know? An’ if it’s come to this, that a young +felly whose politics is agin ye an’ who don’t give +up to th’ fund can buy limits ahead of us, why, +then, we’re through an’ be damned to ye! An’ +there’s others who thinks the same way.”</p> +<p>This unusually long and evidently heartfelt +speech of Clancy’s indicated a dissatisfaction +which Mr. Ackerman, who held confidential relations +with certain members of a thoroughly +rotten and graft-ridden administration, could not +afford to ignore.</p> +<p>“Oh, that’s nonsense, Clancy,” said Ackerman. +“There was a reason why Kent got the limits +and we’ll see that you get something else.”</p> +<p>“We want what we go after, an’ we don’t +have to take what’s handed to us,” retorted +Clancy unappeased. “See now, Ackerman, we +know a thing or two. Here’s Kent been makin’ +up to ould Garwood’s girl. Garwood works his +pull, an’ th’ limits goes to Kent. I have it from +the inside that Garwood got them for him. +Now, I’m not settin’ our pull agin Garwood’s—not +by no manes—but we will not be used by +you to double-cross him. We want no trouble +wid Garwood.”</p> +<p>“What do you mean?” Ackerman queried.</p> +<p>“I mane this: You tip us off to make a new +contract wid Kent bekase the railway will raise +the rates on boards. Ye don’t do that for love +of us, nor yet for a rake-off, for ye asked for none. +So ye do it to hit Kent. Then he tenders for +timber limits, an’ Garwood, bekase the young +man is keepin’ company wid his daughter, sees he +gets them. You an’ Garwood do be thick +together, an’ it’s strange you’re knockin’ his son-in-law-to-be. +Me an’ Finn will have no more to do +wid it.”</p> +<p>Mr. Ackerman chuckled at Clancy’s very +natural mistake. “If you think Garwood is a +friend of Kent’s you’re wrong.”</p> +<p>“Show me,” said Clancy.</p> +<p>“There’s nothing now between Garwood’s +daughter and Kent,” responded Ackerman. “If +Garwood had cared to use his influence for him the +Peninsular would not have raised the rate on +lumber. That’s obvious enough, I should think.”</p> +<p>“I’m talkin’ about them limits,” said Clancy +obstinately.</p> +<p>“Well, admitting that Garwood is responsible +for that, he had his reasons other than the one +you mentioned. Kent has sunk a lot of money +in that timber. He may not get it out again.”</p> +<p>“Ye mane that the limits was onloaded onto +him to tie up his cash resources?” said Clancy, +comprehending.</p> +<p>“I didn’t say so,” said Mr. Ackerman, smiling +sweetly, “but his business is involved already, +and if anything unforeseen should occur he might +smash.”</p> +<p>“An’ somebody might buy him in,” Clancy +commented with an appreciative grin. “I wish +ye luck, but what do we get in place of our tender +that was turned down?”</p> +<p>“Let me know what you want and I’ll do my +best for you,” Ackerman promised. “Now, I +understand you have some timber near Kent’s +Wind River limits?”</p> +<p>“Buttin’ onto ’em at one line,” Clancy replied. +“That’s why we tendered—to round out our +holdin’.”</p> +<p>“Are you cutting it this winter?”</p> +<p>“We are.”</p> +<p>“Yourselves?”</p> +<p>“We jobbed it out.”</p> +<p>“That’s too bad,” said Mr. Ackerman in disappointment. +“I suppose the jobber is a good +man?”</p> +<p>“A good man!” echoed John Clancy. “Is +Rough Shan McCane a good man? If there’s +a worse one anywheres I never seen him.”</p> +<p>“Then why did you give him the stuff to cut?”</p> +<p>“Bekase he’ll put in the logs. He can drive +a crew, drunk or sober.”</p> +<p>“I thought liquor wasn’t allowed in the camps?”</p> +<p>“No more it is—in most.”</p> +<p>“I suppose,” said Mr. Ackerman casually, +“that if whiskey got into Kent’s camp his work +would suffer?”</p> +<p>John Clancy eyed him keenly. “Two an’ +two makes four,” he said oracularly. “What are +ye drivin’ at? Put it in plain words.”</p> +<p>Mr. Ackerman put it as plainly as his bias in +favour of indirect speech would permit. Clancy +considered with pursed mouth.</p> +<p>“These things works both ways,” he said. +“A loggin’ war, wanst started bechune two camps, +means hell an’ docthers’ bills to pay, to say +nawthin’ of lost time. What would we get out +of it?”</p> +<p>Mr. Ackerman told him, prudently sinking his +voice to little more than a whisper, and Clancy’s +eyes glistened.</p> +<p>“Them’s good contracts,” he commented. +“I’ll speak to Finn. He has it in for Kent.”</p> +<p>This partial assurance seemed to satisfy Mr. +Ackerman. “Is Kent still delivering lumber +under your contract?” he asked.</p> +<p>“He is—as slow as he can. Ryan says we +can’t have the law on him for breach of contract +yet. I had him write a letter makin’ a bluff, an’ +Kent’s lawyer wrote back callin’ it. So there ye +are.”</p> +<p>“Well, I suppose it can’t be helped,” said Mr. +Ackerman regretfully. But on the whole he was +very well satisfied with the position of affairs, +and left Clancy’s office wearing the peculiarly +bland, guileless smile which was his whenever he +had succeeded in arranging a particularly unpleasant +programme for some one else. The +smile, however, lost something of its quality when, +just outside the street door, he ran into Locke.</p> +<p>The lawyer glanced from him to Clancy Brothers’ +window lettering and back again, and +smiled. His expression somehow reminded Mr. +Ackerman of a dog that has found an exceedingly +choice bone.</p> +<p>“Hallo, Ackerman!” said he. “What are you +framing up now?”</p> +<p>“I don’t think I understand you,” said Mr. +Ackerman with dignity.</p> +<p>“Well, here’s something I wanted to ask you,” +Locke went on. “Is it a fact that the O. & N.—otherwise +Garwood—has secured control of the +Peninsular?”</p> +<p>The question was so entirely unexpected that +Mr. Ackerman was almost caught off his guard, +but he said:</p> +<p>“Control of the Peninsular? You must be +joking.”</p> +<p>“It is not a fact, then?” asked Locke.</p> +<p>“He may have bought some shares. But control—oh, +no! that would be most unlikely. +Our shares are all too strongly held.”</p> +<p>“Not an impossibility, however?” Locke persisted.</p> +<p>“Humanly speaking, anything is possible,” +smiled Mr. Ackerman, getting his second wind. +“Rumours are most unreliable things.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” Locke assented. “When did you and +Garwood go into the lumber business?”</p> +<p>Once more Mr. Ackerman was taken flat +aback. Figuratively speaking, he even gathered +sternway. He simply stared at Locke for a +moment.</p> +<p>“The—lumber—business?” he exclaimed, +recovering power of speech. “My dear sir, I am +not in the lumber business, save for a few shares +which I own here and there.”</p> +<p>“No?” Locke smiled unpleasant, open disbelief. +“How about Garwood?”</p> +<p>“Why don’t you ask him?” said Mr. Ackerman +with unnecessary tartness.</p> +<p>“I will, one of these days,” said Locke. “By +the way, I’m going to subpoena both of you in +my application to the commission.”</p> +<p>“That will come on next year, I believe,” said +Mr. Ackerman with something very like a sneer.</p> +<p>“Probably next month,” Locke retorted. +“Good morning.”</p> +<p>Locke’s words were by no means random shots. +Once convinced that Ackerman represented some +person or persons inimical to Kent and Crooks, +he sought for a clue. One by one he went over +Ackerman’s business associates, including Garwood, +and discarded them one by one. Then +came the rumour of Garwood’s acquisition of the +Peninsular, an acquisition almost coincident +with the rise in rates. Therefore, Locke argued, +Garwood somehow benefited by it. But how? +The railway man was not known to be interested +in lumber. Still, as Locke saw it, he must be.</p> +<p>“Here,” said Locke to himself, “is this Central +Lumber Company officered by dummies, capitalized +for a mere trifle, and yet acquiring business +after business. Why the secrecy? Who is behind +it? Obviously some man or men who don’t +wish their identity known until they have +accomplished a certain purpose. What is the +purpose? So far it seems to be the buying out of +existing lumber concerns. Ackerman approached +Kent. For whom? Probably for this Central +Lumber Company. Therefore Ackerman is one +of those behind it. Ackerman’s influence has +been unfriendly to Kent in every way. Garwood +no sooner acquired control of Peninsular stock +than the rate on lumber was boosted. Ackerman +is associated with him. Therefore it is not a +wild hypothesis to say that Garwood is financing +the Central Lumber Company.”</p> +<p>Thus Locke argued to himself, and he found +fresh confirmation in the methods adopted toward +Kent, which were typically those of Hugh Garwood. +Then, too, Mr. Ackerman’s evident discomposure +when directly charged with association +with him in a lumber business was +suspicious.</p> +<p>He arrived at these conclusions quite independently +and mentioned them to no one. His +surprise, therefore, was great when Joe Kent, +dropping in one morning, asked what he knew +about Hugh Garwood.</p> +<p>“Did it ever strike you,” Joe asked, “that he +may be the man behind?”</p> +<p>“It did,” Locke answered, “but tell me how it +happened to strike you.”</p> +<p>“Well—it just occurred to me,” replied Joe, +embarrassed.</p> +<p>“Give up, give up,” said the lawyer impatiently. +“Don’t hold out on your doctor, your banker, or +your lawyer.”</p> +<p>Thereupon Joe, under pledge of secrecy, outlined +the conjunction of events. It was a slight +thing, but another corroboratory circumstance. +Suppressing Joe’s part, Locke mentioned his +suspicions to Crooks.</p> +<p>“I’ll bet a thousand you’re right,” said the old +lumberman thoughtfully. “Garwood, hey? He’s +the last man I’d have suspected. And usually +the last man you suspect is the first man you +ought to. It’s just like him to cut a man’s +throat and then pick his pocket. Why, damn +him”—Bill Crooks’ voice rose in indignation—“his +girl visited my girl for a month last summer. +You know that, Joe; you used to trot around with +her.”</p> +<p>Joe reddened. Crooks went on:</p> +<p>“Well, what can we do about it? This is up +to you, Locke. Start your game and I’ll back +it. So will Joe.”</p> +<p>“I haven’t got enough evidence to start anything,” +said Locke. “I hope to prove Garwood’s +connection with the Peninsular when our application +to the Transportation Commission comes +up for hearing. Outside of that our best chance +lies in investigating this Central Lumber Company. +I’ll see what I can find out about them and +you’d better get busy along the same line and +pump every lumberman and dealer you know.”</p> +<p>Kent’s good spirits and increased cheerfulness +were so noticeable that Jack Crooks, knowing +of his recent flying trip, drew her own conclusions. +Casually one evening she approached the subject.</p> +<p>“Of course you saw Edith?”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes, I saw her,” Joe replied.</p> +<p>“She must have been very glad to see you?”</p> +<p>Joe smiled enigmatically. “Well, Jack, she +didn’t exactly fall on my neck. I don’t think I +brightened up life for her to any extent.”</p> +<p>“Modest young man. Are you aware that you +have worn a sunny smile ever since you returned? +You can’t bluff me, Joe. Why don’t you own +up?”</p> +<p>“Own up to what?” Joe’s smile became a +broad grin.</p> +<p>Jack thought he looked idiotically pleased. To +her eyes his face expressed the good-natured +fatuity of the recently engaged man who rather +likes to be joked about it—a being whom she +despised. She was disappointed in Joe.</p> +<p>“If you expect me to jolly you into admitting +your engagement to her you’re making a mistake,” +she said coldly. “I can wait till you see fit to +announce it.”</p> +<p>“Are you sure you can?” he teased.</p> +<p>“Very nicely. And I beg your pardon for +what must have seemed an impertinent curiosity.” +She regarded him with an icy dignity.</p> +<p>“Fine speech, that,” Joe commented genially. +“It’s from some third act, isn’t it? And then I +say: ‘Ah, Beatrice, why that cold and haughty +tone? Me life holds no secrets from you: me +heart——’”</p> +<p>“Joe Kent, I’ll throw something at you!” +she cried indignantly. Then she laughed. “Joe, +I’ll come down to the ploughed ground. You +and Edith were very much taken with each other, +and when you come back, wearing an idiotic +grin, I’m entitled to suppose. I confess to curiosity. +Come, now; give up, like a good boy!”</p> +<p>“There’s nothing to give up,” said Joe frankly. +“Not a thing.”</p> +<p>“I know better,” said Jack. “Edith was in a +very confidential mood one night and she told +me something. Afterward she regretted it and +swore me to secrecy. Does that make any +difference?”</p> +<p>“Not much,” said Joe. “But now I can tell +you that I’ve been thrown down hard. What you +spoke of is very much off.” He outlined what +had occurred. She listened, indignant but +puzzled.</p> +<p>“But—but you seem so cheerful about it. I +don’t understand. Weren’t you fond of her? +And if you weren’t, why did you tell her you were? +And if you were, why——”</p> +<p>“Stop!” cried Joe. “Don’t get me in so deep.” +He became serious. “Jack, most people make +mistakes at times. Edith and I made one together. +I think we both saw it as soon as it was +made, but it took all this time to straighten out. +I’m sure she’s relieved, and, though it doesn’t seem +a nice thing to say, I’m just tickled to death.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Jack judicially, “I don’t approve +of flirting, and I never flirt myself. I think she +was flirting straight through, and I don’t know +whether to blame you or not. But, anyway, I’m +awfully glad it’s all off.”</p> +<p>“It’s great,” said Joe. “Now I can get down +to work.”</p> +<p>There was, indeed, much to be done. Wright +looked after the manufacturing and sales end of +the business and looked after it well; McKenna +was an excellent walking boss; MacNutt, Deever, +and Tobin were good, practical foremen. But the +concern lacked a strong, competent executive +head who knew the logging business intimately, +who could decide at once and finally the questions +that must ever arise, and who could command the +loyalty and unquestioning obedience of his men +in the camps.</p> +<p>For there is a vast difference in the mind of a +lumber jack between working for wages merely +and working for an employer. For the one he +will do a day’s work; for the other he will do a +day’s work and a half, with the pay as an entirely +secondary consideration. Just as great commanders +have fired their troops with enthusiasm +to the point of performing practical impossibilities +through pride in them and in themselves and that +magic, mystic thing called <em>esprit du corps</em>, so +there have been employers who, in time of need, +command the unswerving, uncomplaining loyalty +of the shantyman. For such men he will work +without grumbling in all kinds of weather; he +will take all manner of chances on land or water; +he will fight for them at the drop of a hat; and, +finally, he will throw his loyalty into each lick +of axe and pull of saw, so that at the end of the +season it may be measured in saw logs.</p> +<p>Nor does this depend wholly or even materially +upon the treatment accorded him by the “Old +Man”—save that he must have a square deal. +He may be driven like a mule, cursed in language +for which he would kill any one else, fed poorly +and housed worse; but if the essential thing is +possessed by the boss the lumber jack will not +grumble overmuch nor ask for his time.</p> +<p>And this essential is mysterious and hard to +define. Much as the shantyman admires physical +prowess, it is not a prime requisite. But +courage is, and so is firmness in dealing with any +situation. The boss must never recede from a +position once taken. He may listen to advice, +but he must decide for himself and by himself. +He must never argue, he must never give reasons. +He must hold himself aloof and above his men, +and yet not overdo it. He must be approachable +but dignified, friendly but not familiar. He must +be boss, first, last, and all the time, and from his +decisions, right or wrong, there must be no appeal +and of them no slackness of enforcement.</p> +<p>William Kent had filled this bill. With his +passing a place became vacant. Some of the old +hands hired again into the Kent camps; more +did not come back, but went to others of renown. +New blood drifted in, and a generation arose which +literally knew not Joseph—to whom the name of +Kent meant nothing. The old hands would have +fought at one word uttered against the “Old +Man’s” son, whom most of them had never seen, +but they would have done so on general principles +merely, and not because they cherished any particular +feeling toward him. Neither walking +boss nor foreman could take the place which +William Kent had filled.</p> +<p>Thus the work of the camps was no better and +no worse than the average. The foremen’s +capability ensured fair effort. But the something +necessary to weld the crews into a supremely +efficient machine was lacking.</p> +<p>The winter opened hard and dry, without snowfall. +Day after day the wind wailed through the +bare arms of the deciduous trees and moaned in +the feathery tops of the pines. The ground was +frozen to an iron hardness, and the little lakes, +creeks, and rivers were bound in black ice, smooth +and unbroken.</p> +<p>At the Wind River camp the logging roads—veins +leading to main arteries which in turn led +to the river and the banking grounds—were useless. +By dint of effort and good luck logs could +be got to the various skidways located at convenient +places beside the roads, and piled there, +but they could not be transported farther. The +big sleighs with their nine-foot bunks, built to +accommodate ten thousand feet and upward of +logs at a load, lay idle. MacNutt prayed for +snow, or, rather, cursed the lack of it.</p> +<p>When it came, with continued cold weather, +it was hard, dry, and powdery. It had no bottom. +It gritted like sand beneath the sleigh-shoes, +and they went through it to the ground, even +without a load. To obviate this and to get going +in some way MacNutt put the sprinklers to work. +These were huge tank affairs on runners, drawn +by from four to six horses. At the top of the +tank was a stout, wooden triangle with a block. +A wire rope ran through the block. At one end +of the rope was a barrel; at the other end was a +horse. The horse walked away; the barrel, filled +at a water-hole cut in the ice, ran up an inclined, +rungless ladder to the top of the tank, where it +dumped its contents automatically. The water +found its exit from the tank through auger holes +bored in the rear, controlled by a closely fitting +trap door. Thus the roads were flooded, they +froze, and the hauling began.</p> +<p>So far MacNutt had seen nothing of Rough +Shan McCane. Occasionally on a Sunday, when +work was suspended, one of the latter’s men +would drift over, but the gang kept very much to +themselves. There was no indication of undue +sociability. Still MacNutt, on the principle that +storms always brew in fine weather, kept a very +open pair of eyes and ears. Some of the men, he +knew, could not resist liquor; given access to it +they would become drunk as certainly as effect +ever follows cause. Over these weak vessels, +then, he kept watch.</p> +<p>It was shortly after the road went into operation +that he found the first sign of trouble. A +swamper, named Flett, was trimming the top of +a fallen tree. MacNutt observed the listless rise +and fall of the man’s axe in high displeasure. It +fell almost of its own weight; there was no power +to the blow, and instead of being recovered and +swung up again with vim for another stroke the +blade lay for an appreciable instant in the +gash.</p> +<p>“You, Flett,” rasped MacNutt, “I’ll have no +sojerin’ on this job! Understand?”</p> +<p>The man turned, startled, exhibiting a pair of +reddened, bloodshot eyes.</p> +<p>“Who’s sojerin’?” he growled.</p> +<p>“Wake up an’ work, ye damned lazy dog!” +roared MacNutt. “Take a man’s pay, eat a +man’s grub, an’ then loaf on the job, would ye, +ye slab-mouthed, slouchin’ son of sin?” For the +first time he noticed the man’s eyes, and swore +a great oath. “Ye’ve been drinkin’!”</p> +<p>“I ain’t,” Flett denied sullenly.</p> +<p>“Ye lie!” barked MacNutt. “Where did ye +get it?”</p> +<p>“Go to blazes!” said Flett.</p> +<p>MacNutt caught him by the throat, crooked a +knee, and threw him back down across the log with +a shock that almost broke his spine.</p> +<p>“Talk, ye dog, or I’ll kill ye!” he gritted; and +Flett, staring up helpless and half stunned into +the savage face of the foreman, gave up.</p> +<p>“Regan and me got a bottle apiece from a man +in McCane’s camp.”</p> +<p>MacNutt jerked him to his feet and turned +him loose. “Get yer time to-night and hike in +the morning!” he ordered. “You’re fired! Not +because ye got drunk, but for bein’ no use, drunk +or sober.”</p> +<p>He sought Regan. Regan was doing a man’s +work, and doing it well.</p> +<p>“I’ve fired Flett,” said MacNutt without preliminary. +“I’ll have no booze in this camp, +Regan.”</p> +<p>Regan, who was made of different stuff than +his fellow-transgressor, spat on the dry snow and +regarded the foreman with a level stare.</p> +<p>“Do I get my time?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Not unless you want it,” MacNutt replied. +“I can do with ye or without ye. Suit yourself. +But I’ll have no more of it.”</p> +<p>“A drink now an’ then hurts no man,” said +Regan.</p> +<p>“It raises Cain with a camp, and you know it,” +MacNutt retorted.</p> +<p>“That’s true enough,” admitted Regan, who +was not unreasonable, “but the boys over to +McCane’s camp shoved it at us. They’ve plenty +there.”</p> +<p>MacNutt said no more. He could not forbid +his men from strolling on Sunday, when there +was nothing else to do, over the few miles which +separated the two camps. But he could and did +issue a warning that any man bringing liquor +into the camp would get his time forthwith.</p> +<p>He saw no man drunk, but the little signs were +unmistakable. The percentage of quarrels and +fights became higher; the bunk-house at night, +usually noisy, was now uproarious; some of the +men obeyed with less alacrity and grumbled with +a great deal more; and through the entire crew +there spread a spirit of devil-may-care slackness +very hard indeed upon a foreman.</p> +<p>One Sunday MacNutt shouldered an axe and +took the well-marked trail which led through the +forest to McCane’s camp. Arrived at the compass +line dividing the limits, he sat down and lit +his pipe. For an hour he waited, smoking thoughtfully, +watching the fluffy, impudent whiskey-jacks. +At the end of that time three men appeared down +the trail from McCane’s. One carried a sack +over his shoulder, and the sack bulged suggestively +in the shape of a two-gallon jug. MacNutt +tapped out his pipe and stepped into the trail.</p> +<p>“Where are you men headin’ for?” he asked.</p> +<p>“None o’ your business,” replied the man +with the sack.</p> +<p>“What’s in that sack?” MacNutt demanded.</p> +<p>“Cold tea,” answered the man, and the others +laughed. MacNutt shut his lips grimly.</p> +<p>“Go back and take your booze with you,” +he ordered; “and don’t let me catch you this +side of that line again.”</p> +<p>“Must think you own the woods,” said he of +the jug, slipping the bag from his shoulder in +readiness for trouble. “You go to hell!”</p> +<p>The axe resting on MacNutt’s shoulder leaped +forward and down in a sweeping stroke. There +was a crash of crockery and a sudden strong odour +of alcohol; following these a tremendous burst +of profanity. The three men rushed at MacNutt.</p> +<p>The foreman was not foolish enough to meet +three hardened “bully-boys” with his fists. His +axe flashed up and just missed the head of the +leader in its descent. There was such evident +deadly sincerity in the blow that the men paused. +MacNutt gave them no time. He charged them +instantly, axe aloft, and, prudence getting the +better of anger, they ran for their lives. MacNutt +followed for a short distance, shouted a final warning, +and returned to camp. He did not think that +he had put a stop to the contraband traffic, but he +had fired the first gun and made his attitude +clear.</p> +<p>The following day, as he was overseeing the +work, Rough Shan McCane came striding through +the snow.</p> +<p>“What’s this I hear about your chasing three +of my men with an axe?” he demanded.</p> +<p>“Well, what about it?” asked MacNutt indifferently, +and the men near at hand listened +with all their ears.</p> +<p>“This much,” said Rough Shan truculently. +“My men have a right in the woods, an’ not you +nor anny one else will stop them going where they +like.”</p> +<p>“Well, I did stop them,” retorted MacNutt. +“I smashed a jug of booze they were bringing to +my camp, and I’d have split their heads if they +hadn’t run.”</p> +<p>This was news to the Kent men. MacNutt +rose several notches in their estimation. Regan, +who had expected to share the contents of the +jug and had been disappointed by its non-arrival, +whispered to Devlin:</p> +<p>“Ain’t ould Mac th’ bully-boy? I’d ’a’ give +a week’s pay to ’a’ seen it.”</p> +<p>“A jug of booze among fifty men!” sneered +Rough Shan. “What’s that? Can’t ye let the +boys have a drink if they want it? An’ if it was +a bar’l ain’t ye man enough to be boss of yer own +camp?”</p> +<p>“When I want your help to run it I’ll send +for you,” rasped MacNutt. “There’s been +booze comin’ over from your camp, an’ I’m +goin’ to stop it; an’ the way I stop it is my +business.”</p> +<p>“If you lay out a man of mine I’ll take you to +pieces,” threatened Rough Shan. “I done it +once, an’ I’ll do it again.”</p> +<p>MacNutt’s eyes blazed. He caught Regan’s +axe and tossed it on the snow before McCane. +Himself he seized Devlin’s.</p> +<p>“If you want a fight pick up that axe and go to +it!” he cried.</p> +<p>McCane was rough and tough, but he had come +to run a bluff rather than to look for serious +trouble, and a fight with axes was too cold-blooded +a proposition, even for him.</p> +<p>“I’ll go ye with fists an’ feet in a minute,” +he offered.</p> +<p>“No,” MacNutt refused. “Take an axe. I +want to kill ye!”</p> +<p>McCane was bluffed, to the huge delight of the +Kent men.</p> +<p>“I’m no damn fool, if you are,” he said. +“Leave my men alone, an’ I’ll leave you alone. +But if you don’t, I’ll come over and take you +apart.”</p> +<p>“Bring your own axe,” said MacNutt. “Now +you get out o’ here.”</p> +<p>This conversation, retailed at the camp by +Devlin, Regan, and others, with such additions, +mainly blasphemous, as the imagination of the +individual narrator could suggest, sent MacNutt’s +stock booming. The lumber jack loves a fighter, +and a man who could run three of McCane’s +crew out of the woods and bluff Rough Shan himself +was one after their own hearts. Regan, himself +a rough-and-tumble artist of considerable +ability, voiced the sentiments of the better men.</p> +<p>“I like me drink as well as anny man; but ould +Mac is boss, an’ what he says goes wid me, after +this. I’ll save me thirst till the drive is down, an’ +then—” An uplifting of the eyes and a licking +of the lips expressed more than mere words.</p> +<p>But many of the men did not see it in that way. +If they could get liquor they would drink it. +Visitors from McCane’s camp came empty-handed, +and Kent’s men seldom went there. And +yet there was liquor in the camp!</p> +<p>MacNutt could not account for it. He pondered +the problem over many pipes. “They get +it somewhere,” he said to himself. “For a week +not a man has gone to McCane’s and not a man +of his has been here. There’s only one answer. +They’ve got a <em>cache</em>.”</p> +<p>Having reached this conclusion by the Holmes +process of elimination, he began a new line of +investigation; and he was struck by the popularity +of the tote road as a promenade. There was no +reason why the men should not walk on it, and +it bore directly away from McCane’s camp, but +in the light of his deduction the fact had to be +explained.</p> +<p>MacNutt walked out the tote road. Over a +mile from camp he saw a blazed tree. With this +as a base he began a systematic search, and +finally found beneath the butt of a windfall a +small keg containing rye whiskey of peculiarly +malignant quality. In the keg was a spigot, so +that each visitor might fill a bottle for himself.</p> +<p>MacNutt did not demolish the keg. Instead +he made a flying trip to camp. When he returned +he carried one bottle of horse liniment, half a +pound of cayenne pepper, a tin of mustard, two +boxes of “Little Giant” pills, a cake of soap, and +a huge plug of black chewing tobacco. All these +he introduced to the keg’s interior and replaced +the spigot. This took time. Afterward he took +fifteen minutes’ violent exercise in shaking the keg.</p> +<p>Thus it was that Hicks, up-ending Chartrand’s +bottle with a grin of pure anticipation, suddenly +choked and gagged, for he had taken two mighty +swallows before the taste reached his toughened +palate. Now two swallows may not make a +summer, but they may make a very sick lumber +jack. The winter forest echoed to the sounds of +upheaval. Between paroxysms Hicks cursed +Chartrand. The latter regarded him in +amazement.</p> +<p>“W’at’s de mattaire wit’ you, hey?” he queried. +“Mo’ Gee! I t’ink you eat too moche grub dat +you ain’t chaw. S’pose you tak one leetle drink, +encore, for help hold heem down.”</p> +<p>“I’ll kill you, you blasted pea-soup!” howled +Hicks. “I’ll kick your backbone up through +your hat; I’ll——” Here circumstances over +which he had no control interrupted him.</p> +<p>“I’ t’ink you go crazee, me,” said Chartrand. +“You eat lak one dam beeg <em>cochon</em>—de pork, +de bean, de bread an’ molass’—<em>tous les choses</em>. +All right. I tak heem one leetle drink, <em>moi-meme</em>. +<em>A votre sante, mon ami!</em>"</p> +<p>He grinned pleasantly at Hicks and tilted the +bottle to his own mouth, rolling a beatific eye +as the liquid gurgled down. Suddenly he choked +as Hicks had done.</p> +<p>“<em>Sacré nom du bon Dieu!</em>” he shrieked, spitting +like a cat. “What is it that it is? Ah, holy Sainte +Agathe, I am poison’ lak one wolf! Ah, <em>bon Saint +Jean Baptiste, venez mes secours</em>, for I have been +one sinful man! <em>Sacré dam</em>, I burn lak hell inside!”</p> +<p>Hicks, sitting weakly on a log, his hands clasped +across his outraged epigastrium, watched Chartrand’s +gyrations with huge satisfaction, and +roared vindictive sarcasm at the final catastrophe.</p> +<p>“Eat too much grub that I don’t chaw, do I?” +he mocked. “Make a pig of meself wid pork an’ +beans, hey? Take some yerself, me laddybuck. +That’s right—tie yerself in knots. How would +ye like another little drink to help hold her down?”</p> +<p>In the end they sat together on the log, cursing +in two languages, and regarding the fragments +of the broken bottle balefully. Chartrand rose +and picked up a heavy club.</p> +<p>“Bagosh, I bus’ up dat keg for sure!” he announced. +But Hicks, whose wisdom was of the +serpentine variety, demurred.</p> +<p>“Let the boys find it out for themselves,” he +counselled. “If we give ourselves away we get +the dirty laugh.”</p> +<p>Therefore there descended upon the camp a +sudden sickness amounting to an epidemic; for +the effects of MacNutt’s concoction, though +violent and immediate, were also far-reaching and +enduring. The foreman noted the victims of +his strategy, issued them chlorodyne from the +van, and kept his mouth shut. He had won the +first round, but he knew very well it was only a +preliminary. Rough Shan was still to be reckoned +with.</p> +</div> +<div class="section" id="xi"> +<h2 class="title section-title level-2">XI</h2> +<p>The east line of Kent’s limit butted on the +west line of Clancys’, and in due course +MacNutt began to cut along the line. +The snow he had been longing for fell in plenty +and the road already bottomed and made became +good. A constant stream of logs flowed down it +on the big-bunked sleighs, draining the skidways, +which were continually replenished by more logs +travoyed out of the woods. At the banking +grounds the big piles grew. The work was going +merrily.</p> +<p>About the time MacNutt began to cut to his +line McCane did the same. The crews fraternized +to some extent, but the bosses had nothing +to say to each other, each keeping to his own +side. Hence Kent’s foreman was surprised when +one morning, after a fresh fall of snow, Rough +Shan accompanied by two other men came to +him. He noted, also, with an eye experienced +in reading signs of trouble, that most of McCane’s +crew were working, or making a pretence of working, +just across the line.</p> +<p>“These men is sawyers, MacNutt,” said Rough +Shan. “Yesterday, late on, they dropped a tree +an’ cut her into two lengths. This morning the +logs is gone.”</p> +<p>“What have I got to do with that?” asked +MacNutt.</p> +<p>“That’s what I’ve come to find out,” retorted +McCane. “Our teamsters never touched them. +Logs don’t get away by themselves.”</p> +<p>MacNutt frowned at him. “If you think we +took your logs there’s our skidways, and the road +is open to the river. Take a look for yourself.”</p> +<p>McCane and his men went to the nearest +skidway and examined the logs. They passed +on to another, and MacNutt thought it advisable +to follow. At the second skidway one of the sawyers +slapped a stick of timber.</p> +<p>“This is her,” he announced. “I know her by +this here knot. Yes, an’ here’s the other length.”</p> +<p>Jackson, Ward, and Haggarty, cant-hook men +and old employees of the Kents, had been +regarding McCane and his followers with scowling +disfavour, and Haggarty, from his post on top of +the pile where he had been “decking” the logs +as they were sent up to him, asked:</p> +<p>“What’s wrong wid them sticks?”</p> +<p>“We cut them yesterday on our limit,” the +man told him.</p> +<p>“Ye lie!” cried Haggarty fiercely, dropping +his cant-hook and leaping to the ground. Jackson +and Ward sprang forward as one man.</p> +<p>“You keep out o’ this,” said Rough Shan. +“This is log stealin’, and a matter for your boss, +if he’s man enough to talk to me face.”</p> +<p>“Man enough? Come over here an’ say we +stole yer logs, ye dirty——” Haggarty’s language +became lurid. He was an iron-fisted old-timer +and hated McCane.</p> +<p>MacNutt, when he saw Haggarty drop his +cant-hook and jump, ran across to the skids. So +did other men at hand. A ring of fierce, bearded +faces and level, inquiring eyes gathered about the +intruders.</p> +<p>“Here is the logs, MacNutt,” said Rough Shan. +“Now, I want to know how they come here.”</p> +<p>MacNutt examined the logs. They had not +yet been branded by the marking-iron with the +big K which proclaimed Kent ownership. They +were in no material particular different from the +rest. It was possible that his teamsters had +made a mistake. His sawyers could not identify +the logs positively; they thought they had cut +them, but were not sure. On the other hand, the +two teamsters, Laviolette and old Ben Watkins, +were very sure they had never drawn those particular +sticks to the pile.</p> +<p>“One o’ yeez must ’a done it,” asserted McCane.</p> +<p>“Not on your say-so,” retorted Watkins, +whose fighting blood had not cooled with age. +“Don’t you get gay with the old man, Shan +McCane. I’ll——”</p> +<p>“Shut up, Ben!” MacNutt ordered. He +turned to McCane. “I’ll give you the logs +because your men are sure and mine ain’t. Break +them out o’ that, Haggarty; and you, Laviolette, +hitch on and pull them across the line to +wherever they say they laid. All the same I +want to tell ye it wasn’t my teamsters snaked +them here.”</p> +<p>“An’ do ye think mine did?—a likely t’ing” +said Rough Shan. “Mind this, now, MacNutt, +you be more careful about whose logs ye take.”</p> +<p>MacNutt lit his pipe deliberately before +replying.</p> +<p>“The next one ye pull onto our skidways we’ll +keep,” said he.</p> +<p>McCane glowered at him. “Ye’ve got a gall. +Steal our logs, an’ tell me I done it meself! I +want to tell ye, MacNutt, I won’t take that from +you nor anny man.”</p> +<p>“Go back and boss your gang,” said MacNutt +coldly, refusing the evident challenge.</p> +<p>He had made up his mind to give no provocation; +but he had also determined to push the +fight to a finish when it came, as he saw it inevitably +must. The occurrence of the morning’ +confirmed his suspicion that McCane was following +out a deliberate plan. He perceived, too, +that the matter of the logs was a tactical mistake +of the latter’s. For, if Rough Shan had confined +his activities to supplying the men with whiskey +and fomenting discontent, MacNutt would have +been forced to discharge half of them, and good +hands were scarce. Thus the camp would have +been practically crippled. But an accusation of +log stealing would weld the men solidly together +for the honour of their employer.</p> +<p>Haggarty, the iron-fisted cant-hook man, who +had drawn Kent pay for years, took up the matter +in the bunk-house that night.</p> +<p>“Nobody knows better nor Rough Shan hisself +who put them logs on our skidway,” he +declared with a tremendous oath. “An’ for why +did he do it? To pick a row, no less. He thought +ould Mac would keep the sticks an’ tell him to go +to the divil. Mac was too foxy for him that +time.”</p> +<p>“If he wants a row he can have it,” said Regan; +“him or anny of his gang. It’s the dirty bunch +they are. An’ I want to say right here,” he +continued, glaring at the row of men on the +“deacon seat,” “that the man that fills himself +up on rotgut whiskey from McCane’s camp after +this is a low-lived son of a dog, an’ I will beat the +head off of him once when he’s drunk an’ again +when he’s sober.”</p> +<p>A growl of approval ran along the bench.</p> +<p>“That’s right.”</p> +<p>“That’s the talk, Larry!”</p> +<p>“To hell wid McCane an’ his whiskey, both!”</p> +<p>“Mo’ Gee! we pass ourself on hees camp an’ +clean heem out.”</p> +<p>The temperance wave was so strong that the +minority maintained a discreet silence. Indeed, +even those who relished the contraband whiskey +most would have relished no less an encounter +with McCane’s crew, for whom they had little +use, individually or collectively. Save for the +first few bottles to whet their appetites, the +whiskey had not been supplied free. They had +paid high for it, and the mystery of the fatal keg +had never been cleared up. The sufferers were +inclined to blame one or more of McCane’s men, +and, not being able to fasten the responsibility +for the outrage on any individual, saddled it on +the entire crew.</p> +<p>At this juncture Joe Kent arrived in camp, +following out a laudable determination to become +acquainted with the woods end of his business. +He came at night, and took up his quarters with +MacNutt.</p> +<p>Although he had visited camps before with his +father, it was still fresh and new to Joe—the +roomy box stove, the log walls hung with mackinaw +garments, moccasins, and snowshoes, the +water pail on the shelf beside the door, the bunks +with their heavy gray blankets and bearskins—all +the raffle that accumulates in a foreman’s +winter quarters. And because his imagination was +young and active and unspoiled he saw in these +things the elements of romance where an older +hand would have seen utility only. He felt that +they typified a life which he had come to learn, +that they were part of a game which he had +studied theoretically from a distance, but was +now come to play himself.</p> +<p>MacNutt was silent from habit. A foreman +cannot mingle socially with his men to any extent +and preserve his authority. Hence his life is +lonely and loneliness begets silence. He answered +questions with clear brevity, but did not make +conversation. He was not at all embarrassed by +the presence of his employer; nor would he have +been if the latter had been old and experienced +instead of young and green. He knew very well +that Kent had come to learn the practical side +of the woods business. That was all right and he +approved of it. He would tell him whatever he +wanted to know; but as a basis he must know +enough to ask intelligent questions. Outside of +that he must learn by experience. That was how +MacNutt had learned himself, and if Joe had +asked him the best way to obtain practical +knowledge he would have been advised to go into +the woods with another man’s crew and use an axe.</p> +<p>“And now about McCane’s gang,” said Joe +when he had learned what he could absorb as to +the progress of the work. “Are they giving you +any trouble.”</p> +<p>“Not more than I can handle,” said MacNutt, +and for the first time told of the doctored whiskey.</p> +<p>Joe roared at the recital, and MacNutt smiled +grimly. He was not a humourist, and his narrative +was not at all embellished. He went on +to relate the incident of the logs and his +deductions.</p> +<p>Kent thought of Finn Clancy and frowned. He +told the foreman of the contract with the Clancy +firm and of the narrowly averted row with Finn.</p> +<p>“Then they are behind McCane,” said MacNutt +conclusively. “That means he will make +it bad for us yet—unless we stop him.”</p> +<p>“I don’t understand,” said Joe.</p> +<p>“It’s this way,” MacNutt explained. “McCane +has his instructions, but you can’t prove +them. Suppose he claims a log and doesn’t get +it and a fight starts between the crews—why, +he’s jobbing the limit himself and the Clancys +ain’t responsible.”</p> +<p>“A bit of a scrap won’t matter,” said Joe +cheerfully.</p> +<p>“It will matter if the woods ain’t big enough +to hold but one crew—ours or theirs,” returned +MacNutt. “I’ve seen it happen before.”</p> +<p>“Tell me about it,” said Joe. He listened +eagerly to the concise narrative that followed, +which was the little-known history of a logging +war in which the casualties were large.</p> +<p>“The dead men were reported killed by falling +timber,” the foreman concluded. “Five of them +there was—five lives, and all for one pine tree +that turned out punk when it was cut.” He +tapped his pipe out against the stove. “You’ll +be tired. I get up before light, but I’ll try not +to wake you, Mr. Kent.”</p> +<p>“I’ll get up when you do,” said Joe. “I’m +going out on the job with the crew.”</p> +<p>“All right; I’ll wake you,” said the foreman +without comment, but likewise without conviction.</p> +<p>In the morning—or as it seemed to Joe about +midnight—he awoke with a light in his eyes +and the foreman’s hand on his shoulder. The +light came from the lamp. Outside it was pitch +dark, and the wind was shouting through the +forest and whining around the cabin. Now and +then a volley of snow pattered against the window.</p> +<p>By way of contrast never had a bed seemed so +absolutely comfortable. For a moment he was +tempted to exercise his right to sleep. The +ghost of a smile on MacNutt’s face decided for +him. He tumbled out, soused his head in water, +pulled on his heavy clothes, high German socks, +and moccasins, and in five minutes stood, a very +solid, good-looking young lumber jack with a +very healthy appetite for breakfast.</p> +<p>The darkness was lifting when the crew left +camp for the woods. Joe and the foreman +tramped behind. There was little speech. However +excellent early rising may be theoretically +it does not sweeten the temper, especially in +mid-winter. There was a notable absence of +laughter, of jest, even of ordinarily civil conversation. +Almost every man bent his energies +to the consumption of tobacco. They had not +shaken off the lethargy of the night, and their +mental processes were not yet astir. They +plodded mechanically, backs humped, eyes upon +the ground, dully resentful of the weather, the +work, of existence itself.</p> +<p>Arrived at the scene of operations, the lethargy +vanished. Men sighed as they lifted axes for +the first blow—such a sigh as one gives when +stooping to resume a burden. With the fall of +the blow, and the shock of it running up the helve +through arms and shoulders, they were completely +awake. What remained of the dull, +aimless resentment was directed at the timber +that ringed them around—the timber that +represented at once a livelihood and an unending +toil.</p> +<p>Joe followed MacNutt, keenly observant. He +knew little about the work—how it should be +done, how much each man and team should do, +where odd moments might be saved, and the way +in which a desired object might be accomplished +with the least expenditure of effort. But he was +by no means absolutely ignorant, for, like the +average young American, he had spent considerable +time in the woods, which involves a +more or less intimate acquaintance with the axe, +and he had also the average American’s aptitude +for tools and constructive work of any kind. +Then, too, he had absorbed unconsciously much +theory from his father and from the conversation +of his father’s friends, added to which was the +study and thought of the past few months. Thus +he possessed a groundwork. Remained analysis of +the actual individual operations as they were performed +before his eyes, and synthesis into a whole.</p> +<p>With the foreman he went over most of the +job, from the first slashings to the river rollways, +and thus gained a comprehensive idea of what +had been done, what remained to do, and what +time there was to do it in. He drank scalding +tea and ate pork, bread, and doughnuts with the +men at noon, and smoked a pipe, sheltered from the +biting north wind by a thick clump of firs. In +the afternoon, to keep himself warm, he took an +axe and trimmed tree tops with the swampers, +showing a fair degree of efficiency with the implement. +Also he took a turn at the end of the +long, flexible cross-cut saw, an exercise which +made a new set of muscles ache; but he learned +the rudiments of it—to pull with a long, smooth, +level swing, not to push, but to let the other +man pull on the return motion, to tap in a wedge +when the settling trunk began to bind the thin, +rending ribbon of steel, and to use kerosene on the +blade when it gummed and pulled heavily and +stickily. When the work ceased with the falling +darkness he tramped back to camp with the men, +ate a huge supper, spent an hour in the bunk-house +with them, and sang them a couple of +songs which were received with wild applause, +and then rolled into his bunk, dog-tired, and was +asleep as his head settled in the pillow.</p> +<p>Behind him, in the sleeping-camp, he left a +favourable impression.</p> +<p>“He’s good stuff, that lad,” said Haggarty. +“He minds me of some one—a good man, too.”</p> +<p>“Would it be Alec Macnamara, now?” asked +Regan. Macnamara, a famous “white-water +birler,” had met his fate in the breaking of a +log-jam some years before.</p> +<p>“That’s who it is, God rest his soul,” said +Haggarty. “He’s younger, but he’s the dead +spit of Alec in the eyes an’ mouth. It’s my +belief he laughs when he fights, like him, an’ he’d +die game as Alec died.”</p> +<p>Whether Haggarty’s belief was right or wrong +did not appear. Nothing arose to put the +young boss’s courage to a test. All went merry +as a marriage bell, and the quantity of logs pouring +down to the banking grounds attested the +quality of the work done. Then came trouble +out of a comparatively clear sky.</p> +<p>One day Joe was bossing the job, MacNutt +being in camp. His bossing, truth to tell, lay +more in the moral effect of his presence than in +issuing orders or giving instruction. Having +the good sense to recognize his present limitations, +he let the men alone. The air was soft with a +promise of snow, and he lit his pipe and sauntered +up the logging road.</p> +<p>Before a skidway stood four men in hot argument. +Two of these were Haggarty and +Jackson. One was unknown to Kent. The +fourth he recognized as Rough Shan McCane.</p> +<p>“Here’s Mr. Kent now,” said Haggarty, +catching sight of him.</p> +<p>Rough Shan favored Joe with a contemptuous +stare. “Where’s MacNutt?” he demanded. +“I told him this log stealin’ had got to stop.”</p> +<p>“MacNutt is in camp,” said Joe. “You can +talk to me if you like. What’s the matter?”</p> +<p>Rough Shan cursed the absent foreman. “Log +stealin’s the matter,” he announced. “A load of +our logs has gone slick an’ clean.”</p> +<p>“Gone where?” asked Joe coldly.</p> +<p>“MacNutt knows where!” asserted Rough +Shan with an oath. “This is the second time. +I’m goin’ to find them, an’ when I do——”</p> +<p>“What’ll ye do?” demanded Haggarty truculently. +“It is the likes of you can come over +here an’ say——”</p> +<p>“Dry up, Haggarty!” Joe commanded shortly. +“Now, look here, Mr. McCane, we haven’t +got your logs.”</p> +<p>“But ye have,” Rough Shan proclaimed +loudly. “I know the dirty tricks of ye. That’s +stealin’—stealin’, d’ye mind, young felly? I +want them logs an’ I want ’em quick, drawed +over an’ decked on our skidways an’ no words +about it. As it is, I’m a good mind to run ye out +o’ the woods.”</p> +<p>Joe’s temper began to boil. Here was an +elemental condition confronting him. Rough +Shan was big and hard and tough, but he was not +much awed. To him the big lumber jack was +not more formidable than any one of a score of +husky young giants who had done their several +and collective bests to break his neck on the football +field, and he was not inclined to take any +further gratuitous abuse.</p> +<p>“What makes you think we took your logs?” +he asked.</p> +<p>“Who else could ’a’ done it?” demanded Rough +Shan with elemental logic.</p> +<p>“You might have done it yourself,” Joe told +him. “Now, you listen to me for a minute and +keep a civil tongue in your head. You’re trying +to make trouble for us, and I know it, and I know +who is behind you. If you want a row you can +have it, now or any old time. You won’t run +anybody out of the woods. As for the logs, you +know what MacNutt told you. Still, if you can +prove ownership of any, satisfactorily to me, you +may haul them back with the team you hauled +them in with. But, mind you, this is the last +time. The trick is stale, and you mustn’t play +it again.”</p> +<p>“I’ll find them an’ then I’ll talk to you,” said +Rough Shan with contempt. “Come on, Mike.” +He made for the nearest skidway.</p> +<p>“You two men go along and tell the boys to +let him look till he’s tired,” said Joe to Haggarty +and Jackson. “Don’t scrap with him, remember.”</p> +<p>“Well, we’ll try not,” said Haggarty. “That’s +Mike Callahan wid him—a divil!”</p> +<p>“You do what I tell you!” Joe snapped, and +Haggarty and Jackson uttered a suddenly respectful +“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>In half an hour Jackson came for Joe. He +found Rough Shan at the banking grounds. +Before him lay a little pile of thin, round circles +of wood; also sawdust. McCane picked one +circle up and handed it to him.</p> +<p>It was a slice cut from the end of a saw log. +One side was blank. On the other the letters +“CB” proclaiming the ownership of Clancy +Brothers were deeply indented.</p> +<p>“Well, what about it?” asked Joe.</p> +<p>“What about it!” Rough Shan repeated. +“Here’s the ends sawed from our marked logs. +Then ye mark them fresh for yerself. A nice +trick! That’s jail for some wan.”</p> +<p>“Pretty smooth,” said Joe. “Saves you the +trouble of hauling the logs in here, doesn’t it? +One man could carry these ends in a sack.”</p> +<p>Rough Shan glared at him. “I want them +logs, an’ I want them now,” he cried with an +oath.</p> +<p>“All right; take them,” Joe retorted. “Of +course you’ll have to match these ends on the +logs they belong to. Possibly you overlooked +that little detail. Haggarty, you see that he +makes a good fit.”</p> +<p>Haggarty grinned. “Then I’m thinkin’ I’ll +be goin’ over onto Clancys’ limit wid him,” he +commented.</p> +<p>Rough Shan took a fierce step forward. Joe +stood his ground and the other paused.</p> +<p>“Our logs is here,” he exclaimed. “These +ends proves it. I’ll not match them, nor try to. +I give ye an hour to deliver a full load of logs, +average twelve-inch tops, at our skidways.”</p> +<p>“Not a log, unless you prove ownership of it, +and then you do your own delivering,” said Joe. +“Pshaw! McCane, what’s the use? You can’t +bluff me. Let your employers go to law if they +want to.”</p> +<p>“Law!” cried Rough Shan. “We run our own +law in these woods, young felly. I give ye fair +warnin’!”</p> +<p>“You make me tired,” Joe retorted. “Why +don’t you <em>do</em> something?”</p> +<p>Joe was quick on his feet, but he was quite +unprepared for the sudden blow which Rough +Shan delivered. It caught him on the jaw and +staggered him. Instantly Haggarty hurled himself +at McCane, while Jackson tackled Callahan. +The men at the rollways ran to the scrap. Callahan +floored Jackson and went for Joe, who met +him with straight, stiff punches which surprised +the redoubtable Mike. As reinforcements came +up, McCane and his henchman backed against +a pile of timber.</p> +<p>“Come on, ye measly log stealers!” roared the +foreman, thoroughly in his element. The odds +against him had no effect save to stimulate his +language. He poured forth a torrent of the +vilest abuse that ever defiled a pinery. Beside +him Callahan, heavy-set and gorilla-armed, supplemented +his remarks. There was no doubt of +the thorough gameness of the pair.</p> +<p>In went Haggarty, Reese, Ward, and Chartrand. +Others followed. The rush simply overwhelmed +the two. They went down, using fists, knees, +and feet impartially. A dozen men strove to +get at them.</p> +<div class="figure align-center" id="haggarty-and-rough-shan-locked-in-a-deadly-grip-fought-like-bulldogs"> +<img alt="images/illus-188.jpg" src="images/illus-188.jpg"/> +<p class="caption">Haggarty and Rough Shan, locked in a deadly grip, fought like bulldogs</p> +</div> +<p>Joe’s sense of fair play was outraged. He +caught the nearest man by the collar and slung +him back twenty feet.</p> +<p>“Quit it!” he shouted. “Haggarty! Chartrand! +White! Let them alone, do you hear me?” +In his anger he rose to heights of unsuspected +eloquence and his words cut like whips. The +men disentangled before his voice and hands. +At the bottom Haggarty and Rough Shan, +locked in a deadly grip, fought like bulldogs, each +trying for room to apply the knee to the other’s +stomach.</p> +<p>“Pull ’em apart!” Joe ordered sharply, and +unwilling hands did so. They cursed each other +with deep hatred. Their vocabularies were much +on a par and highly unedifying.</p> +<p>“That’ll do, Haggarty!” Joe rasped. “McCane, +you shut your dirty mouth and get out +of here.”</p> +<p>“You—” McCane began venomously.</p> +<p>“Don’t say it,” Joe warned him. “Clear out!”</p> +<p>“A dozen of ye to two!” cried McCane. “If +I had ye alone, Kent, I’d put ye acrost me knee!”</p> +<p>“Come to my camp any night this week and +I’ll take you with the gloves,” said Joe. “If +you want a scrap for all hands bring your crew +with you. Now, boys, get back on the job. +We’ve wasted enough time. These men are +going.”</p> +<p>He turned away, and the men scattered +unwillingly to their several employments. Rough +Shan and Callahan, left alone, hesitated, shouted +a few perfunctory curses, and finally tramped off. +But every one who knew them knew also that +this was only the beginning.</p> +</div> +<div class="section" id="xii"> +<h2 class="title section-title level-2">XII</h2> +<p>Locke, by means known to himself alone, +managed to have his application to the +Transportation Commission set down +for an early hearing. This made Joe’s presence +necessary, and he came out of the woods lean and +hard and full of vigour. Neither McCane nor +his crew had taken up the challenge, and their +intentions remained matter of speculation. Just +before the hearing, however, the railway suddenly +restored the old freight rate on lumber, thus taking +the wind out of Locke’s sails.</p> +<p>“This puts us in the position of flogging a +dead horse,” he grumbled. “Now the commission +will tell us we ought to be satisfied, and refuse +to let me show the genesis of the cancelled rate. +Confound it! I depended on this to find out more +about Garwood.”</p> +<p>This prediction turned out to be correct. The +commission refused to allow its time to be wasted. +The old rate was restored, and that was not complained +of. Therefore, said they, there was +no question for them to consider, their powers +not being retroactive. Locke was unable to +convince them to the contrary.</p> +<p>Outgeneralled in his plan of attack he sought +another, finding it in a grievance possessed by +one Dingle, a small contractor in a town on the +O. & N. There the price of lumber had been +boosted sky-high, and this destroyed Dingle’s +profits on contracts he had undertaken. Investigation +showed that the Central Lumber Company +had bought out two competing dealers and +immediately raised the price. Locke brought +action for Dingle, claiming damages and charging +an unlawful combination. He named the Central +Lumber Company, its directors, Ackerman, +Garwood, and the O. & N. Railway, defendants. +It was, in fact, a legal fishing expedition +and little more. The object of it was to obtain +information looking to an action by Crooks and +Kent against the same defendants, with the +Peninsular Railway added.</p> +<p>Locke’s first intimation that he had drawn +blood came in the shape of a visit from Henry J. +Beemer, manager of the Peninsular. Beemer +offered him the position of general counsel for +that railway. The offer was apparently <em>bona +fide</em>, and no visible strings dangled from it. Beemer, +in fact, was not aware of the Dingle action +and was merely carrying out instructions, and +he was much surprised when Locke refused the +offer.</p> +<p>“But why?” he asked. “It’s a good thing.”</p> +<p>“I know it is,” said Locke with a sigh, as he +thought of his own rough-and-tumble practice. +“Still I can’t take it. I don’t suppose you are +aware of the fact, Beemer, but this is an attempt +to buy me up.”</p> +<p>“Nonsense!” said Beemer indignantly. “If +we had wanted to buy you we should have done +it before. There is no litigation against us now +in which you are interested. We make you the +offer in good faith, because you are the man +for the job.”</p> +<p>“I have litigation pending against Ackerman +and Garwood,” the lawyer informed him. “You +didn’t know that. So, you see, I have to refuse.”</p> +<p>Beemer took his departure, rather indignant at +Ackerman for keeping him in the dark. But a +few days afterward Hugh Garwood himself +walked into Locke’s office.</p> +<p>“My name is Garwood,” he announced.</p> +<p>“I know you by sight,” said Locke. “Sit +down, Mr. Garwood.”</p> +<p>Garwood sat down and looked at the lawyer +from narrowed eyes. His face was an inscrutable +mask. “You have made me a defendant in +litigation of yours,” he said bluntly. “Why?”</p> +<p>“Because I believe you are financing the Central +Lumber Company.”</p> +<p>“Can you prove that?” Garwood asked.</p> +<p>“I think so; at least I can put it up to you to +disprove it.”</p> +<p>“Suppose I am financing it,” said Garwood +after a pause. “Suppose this man-of-straw, +Dingle, gets a judgment and his paltry damages are +paid—what then?”</p> +<p>“Then he should be satisfied,” said Locke.</p> +<p>Garwood frowned impatiently. “You are a +clever man, Locke. Give me credit for average +intelligence, please.”</p> +<p>“Certainly—for much more than the average, +Mr. Garwood.”</p> +<p>“Very good. Now I am going to talk plainly. +You are promoting this litigation to form a groundwork +for more. If you find what you hope to +find, you will bring an action against myself and +others.”</p> +<p>“Well?”</p> +<p>“Well, I don’t want that action brought.”</p> +<p>Locke smiled.</p> +<p>“Understand me, I am not afraid of it; but it +might disarrange some of my plans. Now, a +certain offer has been made to you. You refused +it. Wasn’t it big enough?”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“In the not improbable event of the fusion of +the Peninsular with the O. & N.,” said Garwood +slowly, “you might be offered the post of counsel +for the amalgamated road.”</p> +<p>“I should refuse that also, for the same +reason.”</p> +<p>Garwood threw himself back in his chair.</p> +<p>“Then what <em>do</em> you want?”</p> +<p>“Several things,” said Locke. “I want a fair +deal for my clients, Crooks and Kent. I want +damages for the outrageous freight rate you made +for their injury. They must have cars, hereafter, +when they want them. The political ukase +forbidding purchases from them must be withdrawn, +and the markets must be thrown open to +them again. The crooked system of double-check +tenders for timber limits must be altered. +And generally you must stop hammering these +men and using your influence against them.”</p> +<p>Garwood waved an impatient hand. “We +are not discussing these things now. Leave them +aside. What do you want for yourself?”</p> +<p>“They are not to be left aside. My clients +will pay my fees. I can’t accept anything from +you as matters stand.”</p> +<p>Garwood stared incredulously. “I thought I +was dealing with a lawyer,” said he.</p> +<p>“You will be absolutely certain of that in a +very short time,” Locke retorted bitingly.</p> +<p>Garwood saw his own mistake immediately. +You may make an amusing pun on a man’s name +or gently insinuate that the majority of the members +of the profession to which he belongs are +unblushing rascals, and the man may smile: but +in his heart he feels like killing you. And so +Garwood, who desired to come to terms with +Locke if possible, apologized. The lawyer accepted +the apology coldly and waited.</p> +<p>“Your demands for your clients are out of the +question,” Garwood resumed positively. “We +need not discuss them at all. I came here to make +an arrangement with you. I have made you an +offer which most men would snap at. I ask you +again what you want?”</p> +<p>“I have told you,” Locke replied. “I am +bound to my clients. That is absolute and final. +If you will not recognize their claims I will proceed +with the Dingle action and follow it by another, +as you infer.”</p> +<p>“I dislike to upset your carefully arranged +plans,” said Garwood, “but Dingle will come to +you to-morrow, pay your fees, and instruct you +to discontinue the action.”</p> +<p>“What?” cried Locke, shaken out of his usual +calm. If this were true the enemy had again +executed a masterly retreat. It annoyed him +exceedingly to be blocked twice by the same trick, +although he did not see how he could have +helped it.</p> +<p>“As I told you, we don’t want litigation +just now,” said Garwood. “Without admitting +Dingle’s claim at all, we considered a settlement +the easiest way.”</p> +<p>“No doubt,” said Locke dryly. “Well, you +won’t be able to buy off the next action. I’ll +take care of that.”</p> +<p>“You persist in your refusal to make terms?”</p> +<p>“That is a very cool way of putting it,” said +Locke. “I tell you now, Garwood, I’m going +after you, and when I get you I’ll nail your hide +to the sunny side of the barn.”</p> +<p>Garwood rose and shook a threatening forefinger +at the lawyer. “Remember, if you make +trouble for me I’ll smash your business. Perhaps +you don’t think I can. You’ll see. Inside a +year you won’t have a case in any court.”</p> +<p>“You own a couple of judges, don’t you?” said +Locke cheerfully. “A nice pair they are, too. +You think my clients will get the worst of it from +them. Of course they will, but I appeal most of +their decisions now. You can injure me to some +extent, but not as much as you think. Go to it, +Garwood. When I get through with you you’ll +be a discredited man.”</p> +<p>On the whole he considered that he had broken +even with the railway magnate. The settlement +of the Dingle action was a confession of weakness. +When that individual made an apologetic appearance +the next day, Locke turned his anger +loose and almost kicked him out of the office. +Then he sat down and did some really first-class +thinking, marshalling all the facts he had, drawing +deductions, sorting and arranging, and finally he +decided that he had a <em>prima facie</em> case.</p> +<p>Thereupon he brought action against everybody +concerned, directly or remotely, in the +assault on the business of Kent and Crooks.</p> +<p>Meanwhile Joe Kent was impatient to get back +to the woods, but certain business held him. A +year before he would have been quite content to +pass his evenings at the club, with cards, billiards +and the like. Now these seemed strangely futile +and inadequate, as did the current conversation +of the young men about town. It all struck him +as not worth while. He longed for the little log +shack with the dully glowing stove within, the +winter storm without, and the taciturn MacNutt. +As he lay back with a cigar in a luxurious +chair he could see the bunk-house filled with the +smoke of unspeakable tobacco, the unkempt, +weather-hardened men on the “deacon seat,” and +the festoons of garments drying above the stove. +The smart slang and mild swearing disgusted +him. He preferred the ribald, man’s-size oaths +of the shanty men, the crackling blasphemies +which embellished their speech. In fact, though +he did not know it, he was passing through a +process of change; shedding the lightness of extreme +youth, hardening a little, coming to the +stature of a man.</p> +<p>Because the club bored him he took to spending +his evenings with Jack Crooks. There was a +cosey little room with an open fire, a piano, big, +worn, friendly easy-chairs, and an atmosphere of +home. This was Jack’s particular den, to which +none but her best friends penetrated. Sometimes +Crooks would drop in, smoke a cigar, and +spin yarns of logging in the early days; but more +often they were alone. Jack played well and +sang better; but she made no pretence of entertaining +Joe. He was welcome; he might sit and +smoke and say nothing if he chose. She sang or +played or read or created mysterious things with +linen, needle, and silk, as if he were one of the +household. On the other hand, if he preferred +to talk she was usually equally willing.</p> +<p>One night she sat at the piano and picked +minor chords. Joe, sunk in the chair he particularly +affected, scowled at the fire and thought +of logs. Lately he had thought of little else. +He wanted to get back and see the work actually +going on. Jack half turned and looked at him.</p> +<p>“He needs cheering up,” she said. “He’s +thinking of her still.”</p> +<p>“What’s that?” said Joe with a start.</p> +<p>“’Tis better to have loved and lost,” she +quoted mockingly. “Brace up, Joe.” She +often teased him about his temporary infatuation +with Edith Garwood, knowing that it did not +hurt. She swung about to the piano and her +fingers crashed into the keys:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line">“Whin <em>I</em> was jilted by Peggy Flynn,</div> +<div class="line">The heart iv me broke, an’ I tuk to gin;</div> +<div class="line">An’ I soaked me sowl both night an’ day</div> +<div class="line">While worrukin’ on the railwa-a-a-y.</div> +<div class="line"><br/></div> +<div class="line">“Arrah-me, arrah-me, arrah-me, ay,</div> +<div class="line">Arrah-me, arrah-me, arrah-me, ay,</div> +<div class="line">Oh, sorra th’ cint I saved of me pay</div> +<div class="line">While worrukin’ on the railwa-a-a-y.</div> +<div class="line"><br/></div> +<div class="line">“But in eighteen hundred an’ seventy-three</div> +<div class="line">I went an’ married Biddy McGee,</div> +<div class="line">An’ th’ foine ould woman she was to me</div> +<div class="line">While worrukin’ on the railwa-a-a-y.</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p>“We’ll omit the next thirteen stanzas, Joe. +See what your fate might have been:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line">æIn eighteen hundred an’ eighty-siven,</div> +<div class="line">Poor Biddy died an’ she went to Hiven;</div> +<div class="line">An’ I was left wid kids eliven</div> +<div class="line">Worrukin’ on the railwa-a-a-y.”</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p>“Great Scott, Jack, where did you pick up that +old come-all-ye?” Joe interrupted. “You sing +it like an Irish section hand.”</p> +<p>“I learned it from one. He was a good friend +of mine. Do you want the rest of the verses? +There are about seventy, I think.”</p> +<p>“If Biddy is in Heaven, we’ll let it go at that,” +laughed Joe. “Why don’t you sing something +touching and sentimental, appropriate to my +bereaved condition? By the way, Jack, where is +Drew keeping himself? I haven’t seen him lately. +I was just beginning to feel <em>de trop</em> when he called.”</p> +<p>This was carrying the war into Jack’s territory. +Young Drew had paid her very pronounced, attentions +and had recently discontinued them, for +a reason which only she and himself knew. The +colour flamed into her cheeks.</p> +<p>“Don’t talk nonsense! There was no reason +why you should feel that way.”</p> +<p>“Hello! You’re blushing!” Joe commented.</p> +<p>“I’m not; it’s the fire.”</p> +<p>“Is it?” said Joe sceptically. For the first +time in his life he regarded her carefully. He +had been used to taking Jack for granted, and had +paid no more attention to her looks than the average +brother pays to those of a younger sister. +Now it struck him that she was pretty. Her hair +was abundant, brown and glossy; her eyes and +skin were clean and clear and healthy, and her +small, shapely head was carried with regal uprightness; +she was slim and straight and strong +and capable. In fact she suddenly dawned upon +his accustomed vision in an entirely new way.</p> +<p>“Jack,” said he, and his surprise showed in +his voice, “upon my word I believe you are +rather good looking!”</p> +<p>She rose and swept him a mock curtsey.</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”</p> +<p>“Nice eyes, plenty of hair, and a good figure,” +Joe drawled. “I don’t blame Drew at all.”</p> +<p>“Now, Joe, quit it. I don’t care to be jollied +about that.”</p> +<p>“What’s sauce for the gander is ditto for the +goose. I wasn’t aware that there was anything +serious——”</p> +<p>“There isn’t,” Jack snapped, “and there never +will be. Will you stop when I ask you to?”</p> +<p>Joe dropped the subject, but eyed her curiously.</p> +<p>“I take it back,” said he after an interval of +silence. “Jack, you’re absolutely pretty. What +have you been doing to yourself?”</p> +<p>“I always was pretty,” Jack declared. “The +trouble was with your powers of observation.”</p> +<p>“Likely,” said Joe, and fell silent again. Jack +picked up a book and began to read. He watched +her idly, pleased by the picture she presented. +She fidgeted beneath his gaze.</p> +<p>“I wish you wouldn’t stare at me as if I were a +recently discovered species,” she exclaimed at last.</p> +<p>“Now I wonder,” said he, “why I never +noticed it before.”</p> +<p>Jack dimpled charmingly. “I want to tell +you, young man, that you are singularly dense. +Even dad knows what I look like.”</p> +<p>“So do I—now,” said Joe. “I suppose I’ve +been thinking of you as a little girl. Great +Scott!” He shook his head, puzzled by his +blindness. Jack’s eyes twinkled and her dimples +became pronounced. She was enjoying his +discovery greatly. Presently she said:</p> +<p>“When do you go up to Wind River?”</p> +<p>“As soon as I can—in a day or two, anyway.” +A slight frown drew lines between his eyes. “I +ought to be up there now. Not that I can tell +MacNutt anything about his job, of course. +But there’s that outfit of McCane’s! No telling +what they will be up to next. And then I ought +to go round to the other camps and see how +there’re making it. We want a main drive of +twenty-five or thirty million this year. Got to +have it. Yes, I ought to be on the spot.”</p> +<p>He was talking to himself rather than to her, +and the boyishness had vanished from his voice +and manner. He was the man of affairs, the +executive head, thinking, planning, immersed in +his business.</p> +<p>Jack was quick to recognize the change.</p> +<p>“You need the logs, don’t you, Joe?”</p> +<p>“I’ll smash without ’em, sure. Twenty million +feet delivered at Wismer & Holden’s booms +by July 1st. Not a day later. Then I can +lift the notes, square my overdraft, and meet +the mortgage payments. If I don’t—well, +my credit is strained pretty badly now.”</p> +<p>“You’ll pull through, Joe. I know you will.” +Her hand fell on his shoulder. He looked up +abstractedly and saw her standing beside him. +Mechanically his hand reached up and closed on +hers. At the contact he felt a little thrill, and +something stirred within him. It was the first +time he had touched her hand since childhood, +save in greeting or farewell. And her touch was +the first of understanding human sympathy he +had had since called upon to hoe his own row. +He vibrated to it responsively.</p> +<p>“You’re a good little sport, Jack,” he said +gratefully and pressed her hand.</p> +<p>There was a discreet knock at the door.</p> +<p>“Telegram for you, Joe,” said Jack, taking the +yellow envelope from the maid.</p> +<p>“May I?” said Joe, and tore it open. His +face became a thunder-cloud. He bit back the +words that rose to his lips.</p> +<p>“What is it?” asked Jack anxiously. “Not +bad news?”</p> +<p>“Couldn’t be much worse.” He held out the +slip of yellow paper. She read:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line">Camp burnt out. McCane’s crew. Wire instructions.</div> +<div class="line">—MacNutt.</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p>Joe tore a leaf from a note-book and scribbled:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line">Hold men together and build new camp. Rushing supplies.</div> +<div class="line">Coming at once.</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p>“I’ve got to have that camp going again in a +week,” said he grimly. “That means hustle. +I shan’t see you again before I go up.”</p> +<p>“You’re going yourself,” she said with approval. +“Good boy, Joe. Oh, how I wish I +were a man!”</p> +<p>“If you were I’d have you for a partner,” he +declared. “But I’m glad you’re not. I like +you best this way. Good-bye, little girl, and +thanks for many pleasant evenings. I’ll tell +you all about the war when I come back.”</p> +<p>In spite of Joe’s misfortune Jack went upstairs +that night with a light step, humming the refrain +of the last stanza of her father’s favourite song:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line">When the drive comes dow-un, when the jam comes down.</div> +<div class="line">What makes yeez lads so wishful-eyed as we draw near to town?</div> +<div class="line">Other eyes is soft an’ bright like the stars of a June night—</div> +<div class="line">Wives an’ sweethearts—prayin’ waitin’—as we drive the river down.</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line">(Oh, ye divils!)</div> +</div> +<div class="line">God bless the eyes that shine for us when we boil into town.</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p>“Other eyes is soft an’ bright;” she crooned to +her white-clad reflection as she braided the great +coils of glossy brown hair. “To think Joe has just +found out that <em>my</em> eyes are bright. Charlie Drew +knew it long ago. How stupid some boys are!”</p> +<p>Meanwhile Wright and Locke were swearing +angrily as they read the telegram, while Joe told +them of his determination to rebuild at once.</p> +<p>“That’s the talk,” said Wright.</p> +<p>“I’ll sue Clancy Brothers at once,” said Locke. +“I believe they can be made liable. Anyway, it +will have a good moral effect. And when you +get the names of the men who did the burning +I’ll have them arrested.”</p> +<p>“I don’t think I’ll bother about law,” said Joe.</p> +<p>Locke stared at him in surprise.</p> +<p>“Because the way I feel now,” young Kent +continued, “I think as soon as I can spare the +time I’ll take a bunch of bully-boys and run them +out of the woods.”</p> +</div> +<div class="section" id="xiii"> +<h2 class="title section-title level-2">XIII</h2> +<p>At Maguire’s station Joe disembarked +from the crawling, snow-smothered +train, consisting of engine, baggage car, +and day coach. The platform was covered with +boxes, sacks, and bundles; and men were piling +them on bobsleighs. These were shanty boys +from the Wind River camp.</p> +<p>Haggarty, one eye blackened and almost +closed, growled a hearty welcome to the young +boss. The latter, looking around, observed +other marks of combat. He asked the cause.</p> +<p>“It was like this, Mr. Kent,” Haggarty replied. +“The camp was burnt at noon. Half a dozen +men wid flour sacks over their heads ran in on the +cook, the cookee bein’ out on the job. They took +him out an’ fired the camp. Then they tied +him, covered him wid blankets so he wouldn’t +freeze, an’ lit out. The cookee come back an’ +found him, an’ brought us word. MacNutt an’ +what men he could hold hit for camp to see what +could be done, but the rest of us was too mad, an’ +we boiled across to do up McCane’s crew. It +was a good fight, but they was too many for us.” +He swore with deep feeling. “Just wait. The +woods ain’t big enough to hold us both after this.”</p> +<p>“Are all the men at camp now?”</p> +<p>“All but what’s down wid the teams. There +was tents an’ stoves went up yesterday. Before +that she was a cold rig for sleepin’ and eatin’. +Now it’s better.”</p> +<p>On the long sleigh drive Joe got details, but +the main facts were as stated by Haggarty. +None of the incendiaries had been recognized, +but nobody doubted that they were of Rough +Shan’s crew.</p> +<p>Joe found a dozen tents pitched around the +clearing, well banked with snow and floored with +boughs. New buildings were going up as fast as +the logs could be hauled out of the woods and +laid in place. The work of logging was temporarily +suspended. MacNutt, grim and in a +poisonous temper, drove the willing crew from +streak of dawn till fall of dark.</p> +<p>“You’ll blame me, like enough,” said he. “I +blame myself. I’ve seen the like before, and I +knew McCane, curse him! If you say so I’m +ready to quit, but I’ll get even with him for this.”</p> +<p>“I don’t blame you a bit,” Joe told him. “It +can’t be helped. We must get the camp and +the cutting going on again, and then we’ll square +up with McCane when we have time.”</p> +<p>As the buildings neared completion new men +began to arrive—strapping, aggressive-eyed fellows +who viewed each other and the Wind River +men very much after the manner of strange +mastiffs. These were draughts from Tobin’s and +Deever’s camps—the “hardest” men from each, +picked by the foremen by Joe’s instructions and +sent on to him. In return, Joe instructed some +of his original crew to report to Deever and Tobin. +Thus he found himself with a crew of “bully-boys” +who feared nothing on earth and were +simply spoiling for a fight.</p> +<p>In the completed bunk-house a huge, bearded, +riverman leaped high, cracked his heels together +and whooped.</p> +<p>“Is it Rough Shan McCane?” he yelled as he +hit the floor. “Is it him wid his raft of Callahans +an’ Red McDougals an’ scrapin’s of hell wud +burn a Kent camp?” His blasphemy was +original and unreproducible. “By the Mortal! +The moon’s high, an’ the travellin’s good. Come +on, bullies, we’ll burn them out of their bunks +this night!”</p> +<p>The yell that arose reached the ears of Joe and +MacNutt. The foreman looked at his employer.</p> +<p>“What’s up?” the latter asked.</p> +<p>“If you want McCane’s camp burnt and his +gang run out of the woods all you have to do is to +sit here and smoke your pipe,” MacNutt replied.</p> +<p>Joe seized his cap and opened the door just as +the crew began to pour out of the bunk-house +hastily pulling on garments as they came. He +dashed across the open space and met the leaders.</p> +<p>“What’s the excitement, boys?” he asked.</p> +<p>“We’re going to burn out Rough Shan for you,” +answered the big riverman.</p> +<p>“Oh, you are!” said Joe. “Well, Cooley, I +don’t remember asking you to do anything of +the kind.”</p> +<p>“Sure, you don’t need to ask it, Mr. Kent,” +returned big Cooley with what he intended for +an amiable, protective smile. “The boys will +see to it for you.” A yell of fierce affirmation +arose behind him. “You go to bed an’ know +nawthin’ about it.”</p> +<p>“Are you giving me orders, Cooley?” Joe +demanded in biting tones. “Let me tell you +this,” he cried. “Not a man goes out to-night. +When I want McCane’s camp burnt I’ll tell you. +Yes, and I’ll set fire to it myself. That’s the +kind of fellow I am. I won’t hide behind you +boys. Now get back, every man of you!”</p> +<p>They hesitated and murmured. Those behind +pushed forward. The young man was showing +unsuspected qualities. Joe stepped up close.</p> +<p>“Do you men think I’ll let you run this camp?” +he demanded. “You’re here to cut logs when I +tell you and not to fight till I tell you. Get it +through you now and get it clear that I’m Boss. +<em>Boss</em>, do you understand? BOSS! What I say +goes, day or night.” He drew a furrow in the +snow with his moccasin. “The man who crosses +that line gets his time. If you all cross you all +get it. If half of you cross you all get it, and I’ll +shut down this camp. That’s what Clancy and +McCane are trying to make me do. If you want +to help them and smash me—cross the line!”</p> +<div class="figure align-center" id="theres-the-line-cross-it-to-night-or-try-to-scrap-with-mccanes-crew-before-i-tell-you-to-and-ill-shut-down"> +<img alt="images/illus-214.jpg" src="images/illus-214.jpg"/> +<p class="caption">“There’s the line. Cross it to-night or try to scrap with McCane’s crew before I tell you to, and I’ll shut down”</p> +</div> +<p>His voice rang clear as a trumpet in the frozen +stillness. By accident, almost, he had chosen +the right course. Pleadings alone would have +been in vain; orders alone would have been useless; +the placing of this responsibility upon the +men turned the scale.</p> +<p>“Aw, now, Mr. Kent,” said big Cooley coaxingly, +“what harm to put the run on them high-bankers +and burn their dirty camp?”</p> +<p>Joe eyed him coldly. “I won’t argue,” he said. +“There’s the line. Cross it to-night or try to +scrap with McCane’s crew before I tell you to, +and I’ll shut down. I mean it, boys. Goodnight.”</p> +<p>He turned and walked to the foreman’s quarters +without looking back. Behind him the men +stood huddled foolishly. Then, one by one, they +straggled back to the bunk-house. From that +moment Joe Kent stood with his crew on his own +feet. He was <em>boss</em>.</p> +<p>The following night, when he came in with the +crew from the woods, he was served with an injunction +restraining him, his servants, agents, or +workmen, from entering upon the limits of +Clancy Brothers, or injuring or interfering with +their property or employees.</p> +<p>“Wouldn’t that jar a brick wall?” he commented +to MacNutt. “They burn our camp +and get an injunction against us. I half wish I +had let the boys go over last night. Now, I +suppose it would be contempt of court to cross +their line.”</p> +<p>“Don’t let that worry you,” said the foreman +grimly. “Orders of court is a poor rig in the +woods. All you’ve got to do is to give me and +the boys our time and hire us again when we’ve +cleaned ’em out.”</p> +<p>But this beautifully simple evasion of the law +did not appeal to Joe. He wanted logs, and had +no time to waste in satisfying his grudges. The +weather, which had been ideal for logging, changed +and choking snows fell. The road had to be +ploughed out time after time. The hauling was +heavy and slow. Then came a great thaw. The +horses balled and stumbled and caulked themselves. +The huge sleighs made pitch-holes in +the road. Altogether it was discouraging. Finally +the wind switched into the north and the +weather hardened. The mercury dropped to +zero at night and rose to twenty at noon. The +road became icy and the runners slid easily in +the ruts. Once more the teamsters took full +loads and the choked skidways found relief.</p> +<p>The men, denied the innocent recreation of +burning out the other camp, worked with vim. +The word went around that Kent needed the +logs—needed them, in fact, badly. That was +enough. Haggarty, Regan, big Cooley, and +half a dozen others set the pace, and the rest of +the crew kept up to it. They were at work by +the first light, and only darkness forced a halt. +The nooning was cut short voluntarily, the men +contenting themselves with a few whiffs of tobacco +and resuming work without a word from +MacNutt.</p> +<p>Joe felt the change. There was a subtle +difference in the ring of the axes and the vibration +of the saws. They sang a faster song and held +a truer note. As he went over the work from +man to man with a joke or a pleasant word—criticisms, +instructions, and suggestions he still +wisely left to MacNutt—he was met by cheerful +grins. These rough, virile men of the woods and +the river recognized a kinship with the young +boss; they felt in him their own fearlessness and +willingness to take a chance, and a strength of +purpose and of character unmarred by their vices.</p> +<p>Since the rebuilding of the camp they had seen +little of McCane’s crew. Curses and threats had +been exchanged between individuals across the +deadline, but on the whole Peace brooded dove-like +and triumphant, as it is accustomed to brood +above armed states, and the manner of its sudden, +startled flight was thus:</p> +<p>Joe and MacNutt, going through a slashing at +the farthest corner of the limit which they had +reached in the cutting, inadvertently trespassed +upon Clancys’; thereby becoming technically +guilty of contempt of court. As they ploughed +through the deep snow two men came into view +from behind the fallen tops. One of these was +Rough Shan; the other, to Joe’s astonishment, +proved to be Finn Clancy.</p> +<p>The two advanced. Joe and MacNutt stopped. +Clancy opened the ball with an explosion of +profanity.</p> +<p>“Are ye lookin’ for more logs to steal?” he +observed in conclusion. “Keep to yer own limit, +ye young thief, or I’ll break yer neck!”</p> +<p>“You’ve reached <em>your</em> limit!” said Joe through +his teeth, and put his whole weight behind his +left fist.</p> +<p>Clancy went back in the snow as if he had been +hit by an axe. MacNutt, like a dog unleashed, +went for McCane. The latter, nothing loath, +met him half-way. Clancy staggered up out +of the snow spitting blood and broken dentistry, +and charged Joe like a bull moose, roaring inarticulate +invective. Joe smashed him right and +left, took a counter in the face that made his +brain swim, was caught in the big man’s arms +and fought himself free by straight, hard body +punches. Two of McCane’s men ran into the +slashing. At sight of the fight they raised a +yell and charged.</p> +<p>This yell reached the ears of Kent’s teamster, +little Narcisse Laviolette, bending to clutch the +butt of a log with a swamp-hook. He straightened +himself at the sound.</p> +<p>“Bagosh, some feller mak’ de beeg row!” he +muttered. “I see heem dat boss an’ MacNutt +pass heemself dat way. Mo’ Gee! mebbe dey +ron into plaintee troub’.” He cupped his hands +to his mouth. “Ya-hoo-ee! Ya-hoo-ee!” he +shouted in a far-carrying cry. Leaving his team +to their own devices he turned and ran, shouting +at every step.</p> +<p>The buoyant cry went echoing through the +forest. It spelt trouble. Man after man left +saw in the cut and axe in the limb and ran +toward it.</p> +<p>Laviolette bounded into the slashing. In the +middle were half a dozen men, fighting fiercely. +On the other side, the woods poured forth a yelling +crew. Laviolette did not hesitate. He hurled +himself through the snow in great leaps, and +plunged into the thick of the fray. His heavy +“snag-proof” gum boot crashed into one man’s +face with all the power of his leg-muscles behind +it. He sprang on the back of another and bore +him to the ground, gripping one ear and tearing +it half away from the head, for little Laviolette +was a dirty fighter. Then he was kicked in the +throat and stamped into the snow.</p> +<p>Clancy was getting the worst of it from Joe, +and MacNutt was holding his own with Rough +Shan. The first newcomers turned the scale. +Laviolette almost evened it again. Then all were +swamped by the rush of McCane’s crew. Kent +and MacNutt went down fighting gamely, and +were kicked and hammered until the world swam +before their outraged senses.</p> +<p>At this stage of the combat Kent’s crew caught +sight of the enemy. The roar that went up from +them was heard even at the rollways. They +charged home. A wave of fighting shantymen +surged over Joe, and he raised himself and staggered +up as he had often done from the bottom of +a scrimmage. Big Cooley raged in the van of +the fight, spouting blasphemies and swinging his +enormous fists right and left. Beside him Haggarty +and Regan found vent for their hatred of +the other camp. The fight spread out into a +number of single combats, and it was then that +Kent’s picked fighters proved their quality. +Man after man of McCane’s gang had enough, +quit, and ran. The rout became general.</p> +<p>“Burn them out!” was the cry.</p> +<p>Joe turned to MacNutt, who stood beside him +gasping for breath and swaying. “Shall I stop +them?” he said.</p> +<p>“Stop nothing!” said the foreman. “If I +get there in time I’ll touch her off myself!”</p> +<p>He ran twenty yards and fell in the snow. For +the first time in his life he had fainted. Joe +caught Laviolette darting past and held him.</p> +<p>“Get a sleigh and haul him into camp,” he +ordered. Laviolette, mad with excitement, +tried to break away. Joe gripped the teamster +by the throat and shook him violently, despite a +grinding pain in his side which made the forest +swim. “Do you hear me, damn you?” he thundered. +“A sleigh, I say, or——” His fingers +tightened.</p> +<p>“Sure, sure,” croaked the teamster. “<em>Oui, +m’sieu!</em> Mo’ Gee, I choke!”</p> +<p>Joe released him and bent over MacNutt. +Suddenly the world grew black and he pitched +down head foremost beside his foreman. Thus +neither of them saw the finish of McCane’s +camp.</p> +<p>The gang roared through the woods and +stormed the camp like demons. McCane’s cook, +game enough, grabbed an axe. Instantly an +iron pot, thrown with full force, sailed through +the air and broke his right arm. The cookee +emerged from the bunk-house with a gun in his +hand and found himself face to face with Cooley. +He levelled the weapon. The big riverman +grinned at him.</p> +<p>“Put it down an’ ye won’t be hurted,” he said. +“Shoot, an’ the boys will burn ye alive.”</p> +<p>There was no mistaking the temper of the gang, +and the cookee wisely did as he was told. The +men raided the van and broached a barrel of +kerosene oil. They threw the contents by the +pailful inside the buildings.</p> +<p>“Here she goes to hell!” shouted big Cooley +as he struck a match.</p> +<p>The light blue flames ran up the oil-soaked +wood and took hold. It began to crackle and +then to roar. Outside, Kent’s crew danced with +glee. Some one found a keg of whiskey. Regan +smashed in one end and upset the contents on +the snow.</p> +<p>“No booze,” said he. “This is no work to get +drunk at.”</p> +<p>From a neighbouring knoll most of McCane’s +crew looked on with curses loud and deep, but they +had no collective stomach for further warfare +just then. When nothing but charred end-logs +and glowing coals remained, Kent’s men tramped +off through the deep snows shouting gibes and +taunts at their enemies. Their vengeance had +been ample and satisfying.</p> +</div> +<div class="section" id="xiv"> +<h2 class="title section-title level-2">XIV</h2> +<p>MacNutt was able to boss the job on +the following day; but Kent was less +fortunate. Pains in side and head +attacked him, what of the pounding he had +received. After waiting a couple of days for +them to disappear, with a healthy man’s confidence +in his own recuperative powers, he was +driven back to Maguire’s, where he took train +for Falls City. There his injured side was +strapped and he was ordered complete rest and +quiet.</p> +<p>Early in the winter, because he was alone in +the world, he had leased his house and moved +to an apartment building. This now seemed to +him about as cheerful as a prison. He longed +for human companionship of some sort, and he +would have disobeyed his doctor’s orders and gone +out in search of it, but for the fact that his face, +covered with bruises, would have attracted +attention. But in the afternoon of his first day’s +confinement came William Crooks and Miss Jack.</p> +<p>That young lady took charge of the situation +with calm capacity.</p> +<p>“Now, Joe,” she said, “you’re coming up to +the house until you’re well. Doctor’s orders. +So tell me what things you want and I’ll pack +them for you.”</p> +<p>“I couldn’t think of troubling you,” he protested. +“I’m not sick, you know. Just a +cracked rib and a jolt on the head. I feel all +right, really.”</p> +<p>“You do as you’re told,” she replied. She +began to pull out the drawers of his chiffonier. +“What a mess your things are in! Nothing +where it ought to be. Where <em>do</em> you keep your +pajamas? Dad, look in that closet for his suit +case.”</p> +<p>“This is kidnapping,” said Joe.</p> +<p>“Call it what you like,” chuckled Crooks. +“Do as Jack tells you and quit kicking. <em>I</em> +have to.” He brought out a suit case and a deep +club bag. “Fire in what you think he needs, +Jack.”</p> +<p>Joe watched uneasily her selection of articles +supposedly indispensable to his comfort, and +gave in.</p> +<p>“Hold on, Jack, or else get a trunk. Let me +show you, if I have to go.”</p> +<p>“That’s better,” said Crooks. He paused +and regarded Joe critically. “Well, you did +get a pounding. Did the whole crew jump on +your face?”</p> +<p>“It felt that way at the time,” said Joe, “but +you ought to see Finn Clancy’s.” He told the +story of the fight briefly, making little mention +of his own part in it. “So you see I was out of +the fun at the wind-up,” he concluded.</p> +<p>“Too bad,” said Crooks with a sympathy born +of personal experience. “There will be trouble +over that, though. They’ll call it contempt +of court, and malicious destruction, and the Lord +and Locke only know what else.”</p> +<p>This prophecy proved to be correct. As soon +as he could be located writs, summonses, and +orders to appear and show cause showered on +Joe. These passed on to Locke, who secured +delay by physicians’ certificates, affidavits, +motions—all the methods by which the experienced +attorney can clog the slowly moving +wheels of the law.</p> +<p>Meanwhile Joe nursed his knitting ribs and +rested completely. Jack established an invisible +wall about him through which no business affairs +penetrated.</p> +<p>“Dad and Mr. Wright can look after things +for a week or two,” she explained. “Mr. Locke +says you needn’t worry about law matters. +Everything at the camps is going well. So, +young man, you just make yourself comfortable +and be lazy. That’s your job for the present.”</p> +<p>When a few days had accustomed him to inaction +it proved to be a very pleasant job. He +developed an unsuspected capacity for sleep. +This meant the restorage of his nerve cells. The +pains in his head lessened and ceased, and the +bruised flesh gradually assumed a normal hue.</p> +<p>His favourite place was Jack’s den. There +was a bow window with a south exposure, and +in the recess stood a huge easy-chair. Joe lay +in it and absorbed sunshine, for the days were +warming and lengthening, and stared up into the +blue sky dotted with little white-wool clouds, +or watched Jack, who had made the den her +workroom. He found the latter pursuit the more +entertaining.</p> +<p>Jack affected white, with a superb disregard +of laundry bills. It set off her lithe, straight +figure, the small uplifted head with the abundant +coils of dark hair, and the pretty piquant face +with the firm yet tender mouth. From top to +toe she was spotless and neat and trim and dainty. +Her conversation was a tonic in itself. She +was direct of speech, frank, and often slangy when +slang best expressed her meaning. There were +many odd “characters” dependent upon the +open-handed bounty of William Crooks, and +from them she had heard strange philosophies +born of twisted lives, odd expressions which +occasionally crept into her speech, and scraps +of forgotten song. She had listened by the hour +to old Micky Keeliher who tended the garden; +to the widowed Mrs. Quilty who came once a week +to do the washing; to crippled Angus McDougal, +once a mighty riverman, whose strength had +departed, and to a dozen others. Not one of +them but would have died for William Crooks’s +daughter. To her they sang the songs of their +youth in cracked, quavering voices; for her they +unlocked the storehouses of their experience and +gave of it freely. She absorbed their songs, their +sayings, their tales; and as nearly as her youth +would permit she understood their viewpoint +of life.</p> +<p>Joe, buried in his chosen chair, listened to the +queer tunes she lilted—tunes which had stirred +the hearts of by-gone generations in other lands—and +by turns stared at the bright out-of-doors +and slept. And Jack, on her part, felt +a strange happiness, as if the room held all that +was best and most to be desired. She did not +analyze the feeling; she was content that it was +hers. Bending over her sewing one bright +afternoon during the last days of Joe’s convalescence +she crooned:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line">“Is it far away ye’re goin’, Danny, dear?</div> +<div class="line">Is it lavin’ me ye arre, widout a tear?</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line">Sure the ship’s white sails is swellin’,</div> +<div class="line">But it’s this to ye I’m tellin’—</div> +</div> +<div class="line">Ye shall love an’ seek me out widin the year,</div> +<div class="line"><br/></div> +<div class="line">“By the spell that’s laid upon ye ye shall come agin to me,</div> +<div class="line">The dear, bould, handsome head of ye shall drop upon me knee.</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line">While ye sleep or while ye wake,</div> +<div class="line">It’s the heart of ye shall ache</div> +</div> +<div class="line">Wid love o’ that poor weepin’ gyurl ye left beside the sea!”</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p>“That’s a cheerful song,” said Joe ironically +from his chair. “Did he come back?”</p> +<p>“Of course,” laughed Jack. “Unfortunately, +he died as his head touched her knee, and naturally +she was inconsolable. Like to hear her +lament?” She drew her face into lines of sorrow +and threw back her head in a preliminary wail, +as a dog howls.</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line">E-e-yah-h-h! Oh, why did he die?</div> +<div class="line">Oh-h-h-h, why did——</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p>“Stop!” cried Joe. “Look here, Jack, remember +I’m an interesting invalid. I want +something cheerful.”</p> +<p>“Well, that <em>is</em> comparatively cheerful. Now, +if I sang you a real Hielan’ lament——”</p> +<p>“Don’t you dare,” Joe interrupted. “I am +still far from strong.”</p> +<p>Jack laughed. “You smoked yesterday. Doctor +Eberts says that a man who can enjoy a smoke +is well enough to work.”</p> +<p>“Good for the doc!” cried Joe. “Me for the +office and then back to the woods. Hooray!”</p> +<p>“Not for a day or two,” said Jack. “Things +are going all right. You keep quiet.”</p> +<p>Joe sank back in his chair. “I suppose so, +but—well, I want to look after them myself.” +Far off against the blue sky a wedge of black +specks bored through space, swinging off beyond +the limits of the town. “Look, Jack! The first +geese going north. That means the end of winter +and open water. We’ll start our drives in a few +weeks.”</p> +<p>“Yes, Joe.” She perched on the arm of the +big chair and stared after the birds, her face +clouded with discontent. “That’s life, and you +can live it. Oh, heavens! Why wasn’t I a +boy? I’d love it so. I want to go up to the +camps and see the rollways broken out and the +banking grounds emptied. I want to wear +spiked boots and ride a stick in white water and +use a peavey. I want to come back to the wanegan +at night, and eat and dry off by a big fire and +sleep out of doors. I want—don’t you dare to +laugh at me, Joe Kent—I want to come into town +with the bully-boys, with a hat pulled down over +my eyes and a cigar in my mouth sticking up at +an angle, and sing ‘Jimmy Judge,’ and ‘From Far +Temiskamang.’ I want”—she faced him +defiantly—“I want to ride up town in a hack—<em>with +my feet out of the window!</em> Yes, I do. And +now tell me you are shocked.”</p> +<p>“I might be if I saw you do it,” said Joe. +“I’ve felt the same way myself—like breaking +loose from everything. If you were a man you +wouldn’t, though. Only the shanty boys tear +off these stunts. <em>We</em> can’t.”</p> +<p>“All very well for you to talk—you could if +you wanted to,” said Jack disconsolately. “I’m +a girl. I can’t even go up to the camps unless +dad takes me.” She voiced her grievance again. +“I wish I had been a boy.”</p> +<p>She turned to the window and stared out. Joe +rose and stood beside her, looking down at the +burnished brown of her hair and the soft profile +of her cheek. Once more the nameless thrill he +had felt before when he had touched her hand +possessed him. Hesitatingly, awkwardly, impelled +by something which was not of his own +volition, he put his arm around her. Instantly, +as if a curtain had been rolled up—as if a screen +had been withdrawn—he saw his own mind +clearly.</p> +<p>Why, he loved her!</p> +<p>It came to him with a shock of utter amazement. +Little Jack Crooks, his playmate, his +friend, his confidant, the girl he had looked at +so long with unseeing eyes—she, she was the +only woman in the wide world for him. She +had always been the only one. Edith Garwood? +Pshaw! How could he have been so blind? Not +all her radiant beauty and deceptive sweetness +could compare with straight, loyal, little Jack, +his chum and his love.</p> +<p>She seemed unconscious of his arm until he +spoke her name. Then she turned her head +slowly and her dark eyes looked directly into his. +What she saw there brought the red to her cheeks +in a wave. Up and up the telltale crimson tide +leaped to her brow, to the roots of her glossy +brown hair, but her gaze did not waver.</p> +<p>“Should you, Joe?” she asked simply.</p> +<p>Stumblingly, humbly he told her, and she +listened, nestling in his arms as one who has +found her own place. And so, when bluff old +William Crooks came home, he found them sitting +in the twilight, planning wonderful things. +Joe put the situation simply.</p> +<p>“Jack has consented to marry me, sir.”</p> +<p>William Crooks stared at him and then at his +daughter.</p> +<p>“Fact, dad,” she confirmed.</p> +<p>“Well, I’ll be—” began Crooks out of his +unbounded astonishment.</p> +<p>She put her hand over his lips. “I hope not, +dad.”</p> +<p>“Well, you take a man unawares,” growled +Crooks. “How long has this been going +on?”</p> +<p>“About two hours, I think,” said Joe happily.</p> +<p>“Oh,” said Crooks; “I was afraid you had +been holding out on me. You’re sure about +this, I suppose?”</p> +<p>They were very sure.</p> +<p>“Well,” said Crooks judicially, “I don’t know +any young fellow I’d rather give Jack to, Joe. +Shake hands, you robber. But, mind you, +you’ve got to put your business on its feet before +you marry her.”</p> +<p>“I’ll do it,” Joe promised.</p> +<p>“Of course he will,” Jack asserted with perfect +faith.</p> +<p>Bill Crooks regarded them wistfully. In their +youth and hope he saw his own. He thought of +a far day when he and a girl had faced the world +together, determined to wring from it success. +The success had come, but the woman of his heart +no longer shared it with him. Suddenly he felt +old and lonely. He roused himself with a sigh +and a shake of his big shoulders. No one, not +even his daughter, suspected old Bill Crooks of +sentiment. His thoughts were his own.</p> +</div> +<div class="section" id="xv"> +<h2 class="title section-title level-2">XV</h2> +<p>Joe Kent tore himself away from his +new happiness, visited Tobin’s and +Deever’s camps, spent a few days at +each, and wound up at Wind River. The banking +grounds were full—great piles of timber stretching +along the water’s edge waiting the going of the +ice. The winter roads were failing fast and the +last logs were coming out the woods in half loads. +Most of the hauling was done by night, for then +the roads hardened with frost. By day the air +was mild and the depth of snow sank sensibly. +Then came the first rain of the season, destroying +the roads utterly.</p> +<p>All the men, save the driving crew, were paid +off. Since a lumber camp is a self-contained community +including a store or “van” at which the +hands purchase most of their simple necessaries, +paying off involves an adjustment of accounts, +A lumber jack seldom keeps a record of his purchases, +and is thus dependent upon the honesty +of his employer’s bookkeeping. The custom is +to run rapidly over the account of each man in +his presence. If he remembers the purchases +and is satisfied, as he is in the majority of cases, +well and good. If he does not remember or is not +satisfied after reasonable explanation he is tendered +a check and told to see a lawyer. But there +have been logging firms who have robbed their +men shamelessly.</p> +<p>“Jack,” one employer is alleged to have said, +“you remember that pair of socks you got in +December?”</p> +<p>Jack, after an effort, remembered.</p> +<p>“That’s one pair,” said the employer, and went +on rapidly. “And you remember the pair you +didn’t get in January—that’s two pairs.” And +Jack agreed. Keener men have been flimflammed +by much the same formula.</p> +<p>But, on the whole, the men get a square deal, +few employers being small enough to charge +excessive prices for supplies, much less to make +fictitious entries against them. There was no +dissatisfaction among Kent’s men. Differences +of opinion never reached the point of absolute +assertion.</p> +<p>“Well, Billy,” MacNutt would say, “there’s +the entry in our books made at the time. If you +say flat you didn’t get the goods we’ll let it go, +because we know you’re a straight man, and +think you’re right. But if you just say you don’t +remember, why, then, our books show we do.”</p> +<p>This unusual but effective system had been +installed by William Kent and worked like a +charm. Seldom did a man, having it put up +to him in that way, flatly contradict the books. +And then it prevented all friction.</p> +<p>After the surplus men had been paid off, the +weather hardened. A bitter wind held in the +north by day; the nights were still, clear, and +cold. Ice actually made and thickened in the +river.</p> +<p>It was unheard-of. Each morning the rivermen +rose, cocked wise eyes at the sky, and cursed +the weather. Each night they sat around the +stove, for the cold was penetrating.</p> +<p>“It’s the qualified adjective moon,” said Cooley. +“The weather will break when she changes.”</p> +<p>“She’ll break when she gets ready,” said +Jackson. “This will make a late drive.”</p> +<p>“But high water when it does come,” said +another.</p> +<p>Joe Kent took to looking into the sleeping +camp for an hour or so each night. He had +brought a banjo with him, and he exhausted his +song repertory. The men enjoyed it thoroughly. +It was, perhaps, bad for discipline, but it developed +a feeling of comradeship. His authority +was not in danger, for they had seen him hold his +own against the redoubtable Mike Callahan, who +was a dangerous fighter; and he had also bested +big Finn Clancy, who had whipped many a good +man in his day.</p> +<p>Suddenly the weather changed. One morning +a southerly wind and a cloudy sky greeted +them; by noon there was a warm rain slashing +against the earth; at night mists and fog hung +everywhere.</p> +<p>“She breaks up this time,” said Cooley, who +was engaged in saturating his driving boots with +oil and hot tallow, not with intent to keep his +feet dry, but to preserve the leather.</p> +<p>“An’ time it is,” said Regan, busy with a file +at the inch spikes which studded the soles of his +footgear. “She’s a fortnight later nor she should +be.”</p> +<p>This was so, but it had caused Joe little uneasiness, +for his margin seemed ample. His +plan was to drive the Wind River cut down the +Wind to the Mattawagan. Tobin and Deever +would drive down the Missabini to the latter +stream. The drives would unite at McColl’s +Sney, where the main drive would be formed. +Thence it would proceed down that great water +artery past Falls City to Wismer & Holden’s +booms. It was all very simple—on paper.</p> +<p>But it took a week for the ice to move in the +Wind. The driving crew chafed and cursed, +for they regarded Kent’s interests as their own, +and they longed to feel a rocking log beneath +their feet once more. When the ice finally +moved they attacked the rollways with fury, and +the huge piles of great sticks cascaded thunderously +into the water like huge amphibians. At +that point the river was deep and had little current. +Therefore the logs strung out slowly +and in an orderly manner with a dignity befitting +their weight and age.</p> +<p>When the drive began to string with the slow +current, MacNutt sent part of the crew downstream +to keep the logs moving and prevent +jams. The remainder divided and strung along +either bank, releasing such sticks as grounded +in the shallows or caught in the “sweepers” +from the banks.</p> +<p>Last of all came the “wanegan,” also known +as the “sweep.” This was a long, heavy, flat +bottomed scow, of primitive but enormously +strong construction. It was the base of supplies +for the driving crew. It held tents, provisions, +clothing, and tools, and it was manned by the +cook, cookees, and blacksmith. For propulsion +it possessed long sweeps; but since it had merely +to keep pace with the logs and the logs moved +no faster than the current, these were used only +for guidance. In slow water the life of its crew +by day was one of dreamy, idyllic ease; but in +fast water this condition was reversed. The +scow was big, heavy, and unwieldly. It refused +to be guided, checked or restrained; it +bumped malevolently against boulders, grounded +on sandbars, scraped its crew against overhanging +limbs, and dragged them, cursing, into the +water when they tried to line it down a fast, obstructed +current.</p> +<p>For the first few days they always endeavoured +to control their craft; after that they let it go and +trusted to luck, clinging perfunctorily to the +sweeps and damning the grinning rivermen who +shouted sarcastic comment and advice from the +banks and solitary logs.</p> +<p>At night the crew sought the wanegan and ate +voraciously. They were always wet to the waist +and often to the ears. They changed and dried +their soaked clothing on pole racks by roaring +fires, smoked, and slept in little tents pitched ready +for them. Before the first light they had breakfasted, +and they stepped into ice water in the gray +dawn. But with it they were happy and contented, +for the drive was the crowning glory of the year.</p> +<p>The drive made average progress. There were +small jams, easily broken, minor delays which +always occur, but both MacNutt and Joe were +pleased.</p> +<p>“The late opening won’t matter,” said the +former as they spread their blankets in the little +wedge tent. “The head will hit the first dam to-morrow, +sometime. We ought to sluice her +through inside two days. Then there’s the second +dam. If we have luck we’ll tie into the main +drive pretty near on time. The others’ll be +about as late as we are.”</p> +<p>“I hope so,” said Joe. “We don’t want to +hang up anywhere. I suppose McCane’s drive +will be out of our way?”</p> +<p>“Sure to —— unless he jams somewhere,” said +MacNutt. “Lebret Creek is faster than the +Wind and opens earlier. It’s good drivin’. +He ought to be through the second dam by now.”</p> +<p>Lebret Creek joined the Wind above the +second dam. They were then some twenty-five +miles from the confluence, and four miles above +the first dam.</p> +<p>The day broke clear and splendid. Joe and +MacNutt set off down stream for the dam half +an hour behind a dozen of the crew. They cut +through the woods across a three-mile bend of +the stream and came suddenly upon it again.</p> +<p>“By the G. jumping Jasper!” cried MacNutt.</p> +<p>The river seemed to have shrunk. Logs lay +along the banks, were caught in shallows, rocked +in the feeble current. As far as the eye could +reach stretched the shaggy backs of the brown +herd, motionless or nearly so. The ancient bed +of the stream appeared as it had been before the +dams were built—a flat, rocky bottom over which +a foot or so of water brawled noisily and ineffectively, +utterly useless from the standpoint of a +logger. The drive was plugged for want of +water.</p> +<p>A man appeared through the trees. He was +running. “Dam’s gone out!” he shouted as he +came within hailing distance.</p> +<p>Joe and the foreman looked at each other. +There was no need to put the single thought into +words.</p> +<p>“Come on,” said Joe briefly, and broke into a +trot.</p> +<p>They found the men gathered by the remnants +of the dam. The wings of the structures sagged +forlornly, and through the wrecked centre the +stream poured over a rocky bed. The débris +had been swept downstream by the rush of released +water, and the ruin was beautifully complete. +The cause of its going out must remain +speculation merely.</p> +<p>“What’s the best thing to do?” Joe asked +MacNutt.</p> +<p>“Ward,” said MacNutt, “you hike. Bring +every man here, a-jumping. Load up a peakie +with tools, blocks and tackle and dynamite and +run her down river somehow. Load up another +with tents, blankets, and grub, and tell the cook +to bring her down. Camp is here till we move the +logs. Get a move on you, now!”</p> +<p>“There’s only one thing to do,” he continued +to Kent. “The dam has got to be put in again. +There’s no fall to speak of, and four foot of water +will float the best part of the logs. The rest +we’ll have to sack out. It means a week, but we +can’t help it.”</p> +<p>Regan, who after examining the wreck narrowly +had taken to the bank, appeared above them. +He carried a piece of timber, twisted and riven. +This he dumped down before the boss.</p> +<p>“Found her back in the brush,” said he. “They +used powder. I knowed that dam never went +out by herself.”</p> +<p>“The infernal scoundrels!” said Joe.</p> +<p>Regan looked at him hopefully. “I seen an +Injun yesterday. He says McCane’s drive is +jammed near the mouth of Lebret. Say the word, +boss, an’ we’ll mosey over an’ half murder every +mother’s son of them!”</p> +<p>“Thank you, Regan, but I can’t say it,” said +Joe. “I have to get these logs out. If I don’t +get them I bust. Tell the boys that.”</p> +<p>The men began to arrive. MacNutt divided +them into gangs and set them to work staying and +shoring the remnants of the dam. Slight progress +was made that day. The wanegan was looted +and the peakies—a peakie is a flat-bottomed, +double-ended river boat—made trip after trip, +drawn by men wading in the shallows, until +sufficient supplies were transferred to the camp +by the dam.</p> +<p>Light saw the crew at work. There was nothing +fancy about the structure which MacNutt +planned. It was built entirely of logs. Holes +were blown in the bed of the river at intervals of +a few feet, and in these were set buttress-logs +slanted sharply upstream to back the timbers +when the weight of the water should come against +them. These things took time—days of the +hardest kind of toil—but the impromptu dam +was finally completed, even to the construction +of a short slide to run the logs to the free water +below.</p> +<p>The river rose and backed up. The newly laid +timbers groaned and complained. Now and then +a startling crack made Joe’s heart leap.</p> +<p>“Will she hold, Mac?” he asked anxiously.</p> +<p>“She’s got to hold,” said the foreman grimly. +“I don’t mean she’s a permanent job; she ain’t. +If she’ll last till we get through we’ll blow her to +glory.”</p> +<p>“Why?” asked Joe.</p> +<p>“Because if we don’t she may go out herself +or some skunk may blow her for us when we’re +downstream. Half of us might be drowned +and the logs winged out into the bush.”</p> +<p>But the jury-rig held. The water mounted +higher and higher. Booms were strung, forming +a funnel of which the sluiceway was the outlet. +These also served to keep the weight of floating +timber off the dam structure.</p> +<p>Satisfied with the strength of his work, MacNutt +hurried up stream. Many of the logs were +afloat, moving sullenly; others were beginning to +rock in the rising water. The men were working +hard and steadily, with concentrated energy. Their +peavies clanked regularly, and the logs twirled +out of their resting places and trundled into the +stream. Still the river rose, and MacNutt judged +that it was high enough. Fearful for the strength +of his dam he made an outlet by the simple +expedient of knocking a few timbers loose. The +water held at the new level.</p> +<p>Down by the dam the herd of logs thickened +and packed tight. The boom strained with their +pressure. It was manned by men with long +pike poles. They pushed here, restrained there, +feeding the slide constantly and evenly, so that +a nearly solid stream of timber shot through it +into the good water below. When darkness fell, +huge fires were lighted on the banks and the sluicing +continued. Half the crew turned in immediately +after supper; the other half kept the logs +going. At two o’clock in the morning they shifted. +By noon the last logs shot through. Then came +the wanegan.</p> +<p>MacNutt picked half a dozen men. “Throw +her down little by little, boys,” he ordered. +“Don’t be in a hurry, and don’t use powder till +there’s no danger of a wave hitting us. We want +a head of water, but not too much of it. The +river’s rising now.”</p> +<p>Joe looked back from the stern of the peakie +in which he rode to catch up with the drive. The +men had clambered out on the timbers and were +busy with axes and saws destroying what had +been so laboriously constructed. It had served +his turn, but he felt regret. He would have liked +it to stand, so that some day he might show Jack +the rude, effective structure, and tell her the +story of its building. He had had but small +part in it, though his hands were blistered and +ragged from handling rocks and rough timbers. +He did not pose even to himself as a conqueror +of difficulties; he gave the credit to MacNutt +and his crew.</p> +</div> +<div class="section" id="xvi"> +<h2 class="title section-title level-2">XVI</h2> +<p>MacNutt suddenly struck his head a +violent blow with his clenched fist and +swore. He and Joe sat before the fire +smoking a final pipe before turning in, and the +gurgle of the water under the banks was music +to their ears, for it meant that the logs were +travelling free by night.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter?” Joe asked, sleepily.</p> +<p>“I ought to be kicked!” cried the foreman +in tones of bitter self-condemnation. “I’m a saphead. +I got no more sense than a hen. McCane +blew that dam on us. What’s to hinder his +blowing the other when he’s finished sluicing his +drive? He may be through now.”</p> +<p>“By heavens, Mac!” Joe ejaculated, appalled +by the prospect. With the late season’s start +and the delays which had already occurred such +an occurrence would be a calamity. “By heavens +Mac, we can’t let him get away with it again! +We can’t afford to take a chance. We’ve got +to be <em>sure</em> he doesn’t.”</p> +<p>MacNutt scowled at the fire, biting his pipe +stem. “I can’t think of but one way out,” said +he. “We’ve got to put a guard on that dam, +and if it comes to a case they must have the nerve +to make good.”</p> +<p>“You mean—?”</p> +<p>“Just what I say. If any one starts monkeying +with it they must stop him—with lead if they +have to. Of course you’ll be held responsible +for such an order.”</p> +<p>Joe’s mouth hardened. “Mac,” said he, “this +is make or break with me. I’ve got to get these +logs out. Pick one man and I’ll go with him +myself.”</p> +<p>“Don’t do that,” MacNutt dissuaded. “The +boys will look after it all right. You better keep +out.”</p> +<p>“No, I’ll go,” said Joe with determination. +“You need every hand on the drive. I won’t +ask any man to do what I won’t do myself. Pick +your man and fetch him in here. We ought to +start now.”</p> +<p>MacNutt arose and left the tent. In five +minutes he returned with a little, brown-faced +riverman, Dave Cottrell by name. Joe was surprised. +He had expected the foreman to choose +Cooley, Haggarty, or one of the noted “bully-boys.” +Cottrell was an excellent riverman, active +as a squirrel and ready to take any chances, but +extremely quiet and self-effacing. He was never +in a row, had no chums, and, apparently, no enemies. +He minded his own business and avoided +notice. Such speech as he essayed was brief +and to the point.</p> +<p>“Now Dave,” said the foreman, “we think +McCane may blow this dam on us. Mr. Kent is +going down to see that it ain’t done, and he wants +a man with him. How about you? Of course +this ain’t what you were hired for.”</p> +<p>“That’s all right,” said Cottrell.</p> +<p>“You understand,” said Joe, “that we’re going +to protect the dam at all costs. Can you shoot?”</p> +<p>“Some,” said Cottrell, and MacNutt chuckled +to himself.</p> +<p>“Then get ready,” Joe ordered. “We’ll start +in half an hour.”</p> +<p>“C’rect,” said Cottrell, and departed to roll +his blanket.</p> +<p>Blankets and food for two days were made into +packs. The outfit owned two rifles, one belonging +to Joe, the other to the foreman, who gave it +to Cottrell. The little riverman tested the action, +filled the magazine, and shouldered his pack.</p> +<p>“Now if you’re ready we’ll be goin’,” said he.</p> +<p>Straightway he took the lead and the command. +Joe found himself relegated to a subordinate +position, compelled to follow one who seemed to +possess the eyesight and easy movement of a +nocturnal animal. The riverman had discarded +his spiked boots and taken to moccasins. His +gait was the bent-kneed amble of the confirmed +woods-loafer. It was not pretty, and it looked +slouchy and slow; but it carried him along at a +tremendous rate. Now and then he paused and +waited for the young boss, but made no comment. +They left the river and took to the bush, following +a course presumably known to Cottrell. They +crossed swamps and wormed through alder swales, +coming out again on pine and hardwood ridges. +Joe was hopelessly lost and bewildered. He +had no idea of the direction in which they were +going.</p> +<p>“You’re sure you’re heading right?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Why, of course,” said Cottrell, surprised at +the question.</p> +<p>About two o’clock in the morning he halted +by a little creek.</p> +<p>“We better take a spell,” he said. “You ain’t +used to this, but the travellin’ will be better from +now on.”</p> +<p>Joe was glad to sit down. His legs ached, and +he was torn by limbs and briers; but besides the +purely physical fatigue was that which comes of +travelling an unknown route without the faintest +idea of how much of it you are covering. He +stretched himself out with his back to a log. +Cottrell built a fire and hung a little pail over it. +When the water boiled he made tea, and they ate. +Afterward they smoked. Warmed and weary, +Joe began to nod.</p> +<p>“We better be gettin’ on,” said Cottrell.</p> +<p>Once more they plunged into the forest, but +it was more open and, as the riverman had foretold, +the going was easier. Gradually the stars +paled in the east, and a faint gray light succeeded. +Then came the rosy streaks of dawn. Cottrell +halted and held up his hand. Faint in the distance +sounded the measured music of an axe.</p> +<p>“We’re in time,” said Cottrell.</p> +<p>They came out on the river and on McCane’s +rear. Cottrell led the way back into the bush +and when they emerged again it was at the dam. +The dam pond was brown with logs, and they were +being sluiced through in a great hurry. A crew +of unkempt, tousled rivermen manned the booms +and kept the sticks hustling. Rough Shan +McCane stood on the boom by the water-gate +directing operations, and his profane urgings came +to them above the sound of the water. As they +stood on the bank, rifles under their arms, one of +the men caught sight of them and pointed. Immediately +they became the nucleus of all eyes. +McCane came ashore accompanied by half a +dozen of his crew. He walked up to the new +comers.</p> +<p>“What do yez want?” he demanded.</p> +<p>“When will you be sluiced through?” Joe +asked.</p> +<p>“What business is that of yours?” growled the +rough one.</p> +<p>“You know what business it is of mine,” Joe +answered. “My drive’s coming down. And I’ll +tell you something more, McCane, we’re going to +camp right here till it does. I warn you now—don’t +try to wreck this dam!”</p> +<p>“Wreck the dam, is it?” said McCane innocently. +“For why should we wreck the dam?”</p> +<p>“I suppose you don’t know that the one +above went out and hung my drive for a week,” +said Joe with sarcasm.</p> +<p>“Is that so?” said McCane with mock sympathy. +“Well, well, ye do be in hard luck. What’s +the guns for? Deer is out o’ season. Yon’s +a pretty-lookin’ rifle, now. I’ll bet it cost ye +somethin’. Let me have a look at it.”</p> +<p>He stretched out his hand casually, and suddenly +leaped. His hand fastened on the rifle +barrel. Instantly Cottrell’s weapon sprang to +a level.</p> +<p>“Drop that, McCane!” snapped the little +riverman. “You men keep back there, or I’ll +onhook her into you.”</p> +<p>Rough Shan looked into the ominous tube and +slowly released his grip. “Don’t ye get gay wid +that gun!” he warned. “I could have ye jailed +for pointin’ it at me.”</p> +<p>The little man’s bright eyes twinkled behind the +sights. “If she went off as she’s pointin’ now you +wouldn’t know what happened,” he announced +gravely.</p> +<p>Joe backed up alongside him. “We’re not +looking for trouble,” said he, “but the man who +tries any funny business with that dam will +get hurt. Go ahead with your sluicing, or my +drive will be down on top of you.”</p> +<p>“Will it?” said McCane. “Then, let me tell +ye this, young felly, it’ll stop till I get through. +I’ll sluice when I please.” Behind him his men +growled angrily. He shook his fist and roared, +forth a flood of blasphemy.</p> +<p>To Joe’s utter amazement it was answered by +Cottrell. The little man’s language was fairly +blood-curdling. His words snapped and crackled +with venom. Such a “cursing out” had never +been heard along the Wind. Finally his voice +cracked.</p> +<p>“Burn our camp, would ye?” he croaked +hoarsely in conclusion. “Hang our drive, would +ye? Blow a dam on us, an’ think for to do it +again! The man that takes a stick of powder +near it will never draw his pay. See them birds!”</p> +<p>Fifty yards away two woodpeckers clung to the +bark of a tree, hopping and tapping in search +of the worms that were their food. Dave Cottrell’s +rifle swung to his shoulder. Two reports +followed, spaced inappreciably by the jangle of +the magazine action. Two mangled masses of +bloody feathers fell from the tree. The little +man regarded the unkempt crew with evil eyes.</p> +<p>“Lemme see one o’ ye make a bad move!” he +challenged, and there was death in his voice.</p> +<p>Not a man made a move, bad or otherwise. +Cottrell chose a spot overlooking the packed logs +and the sliding water of the sluiceway. There he +sat down, rifle on knees, and smoked. He had +apparently talked himself out, for he answered +Joe’s remarks with customary brevity.</p> +<p>In half an hour McCane quit sluicing. He and +his crew came ashore and lit their pipes, lounging +in the sun. The men from the rear came in and +the whole camp rested. This continued all day. +It was evident that McCane had a purpose in +view. With the fall of night Joe and Cottrell +moved down on the dam. The stars gave an +intermittent light. The banks were deep in +shadow, but objects could be made out on the +river.</p> +<p>“You better lie down and get some sleep,” +Dave advised his boss. “Then you can spell +me later. They won’t touch the dam till their +logs is through, likely, but they may try to do +us up.”</p> +<p>Joe rolled up in his blanket and presently slept. +The fires of the camp died down. Save for the +deep roar of rushing water the night was still.</p> +<p>About twelve o’clock three stones, thrown +simultaneously, whizzed out of the darkness. +Two missed Cottrell’s head by a few inches; +the third, thrown short, struck Joe’s shoulder a +glancing blow as he lay in his blanket.</p> +<p>As he woke with a startled cry Cottrell’s +rifle spat a rod of flame into the dark. The +man fired three shots and paused. A stick +cracked in the bushes. Instantly he fired twice +more at the sound, and listened. The camp was +astir. Men poured out cursing in three languages. +Through the babel Cottrell tried to make out the +sound of footsteps. Failing, he fired once more, +on general principles.</p> +<p>“Stop it, Cottrell!” cried Joe. “We don’t +want to kill any one.”</p> +<p>“If one o’ them rocks had hit my head it would +have killed <em>me</em>,” snarled Cottrell. “I’ll put the +fear o’ God in their rotten hearts!” He shoved in +fresh cartridges savagely.</p> +<p>“I think you’ve put it there now,” Joe commented +as the row subsided. “But don’t shoot +at their camp, or they’ll start shooting back. +They must have a gun in their outfit.”</p> +<p>Boom! The roar of a shotgun shattered the +silence, and the shot pellets pattered against the +logs and stones. Boom! the second barrel +spoke.</p> +<p>“Damn scatter-gun!” said Cottrell with contempt, +and fired one shot. The crowd stampeded +for cover as the bullet whined a foot above their +heads. “It’s all right—I held high,” he explained. +“It’d be just my darn luck to get one +o’ them little shots in the eye. Now they won’t +do no more shootin’.”</p> +<p>This prediction proved correct. The night +passed without further incident. With daylight +McCane’s cook appeared and made up his fire. +Later the crew crawled out of their dingy tents. +A few washed at the river; but most made no +attempt at a toilet. They sat on the ground and +wolfed down their food. With the last mouthful +they reached for tobacco.</p> +<p>“Red McDougals, Callahans, and Charbonneaus—a +dirty bunch,” said Cottrell. The little +man had sluiced himself with icy water from +top to toe in the gray of the dawn, and was now +frying slices of pork strung on green twigs above +a small fire. “Some day the small pox will do a +good job for ’em. Look at them scratch their +backs against the rocks. Ugh!” His disgust was +too deep for words. McCane emerged from his +tent and Cottrell cursed him with venom.</p> +<p>“What have you got against the man?” asked +Joe reaching for a slice of bread.</p> +<p>“He beat up a chum of mine once,” Cottrell +replied, “a little feller about my size that had no +chance agin him. I’ll get him yet for that. I +wish t’ God he’d made a move yesterday, an’ +I’d ’a’ blowed his head off!”</p> +<p>“Now, look here, Dave,” said Joe, “we’re +here to protect the dam, and that’s all. I won’t +have any feud mixed up with it.”</p> +<p>“I ain’t mixin’ it,” said Cottrell. “I’m just +prayin’ he’ll have the nerve to walk out to the +sluice gate with a stick of powder in his hand or +even a bulge in his shirt.”</p> +<p>But McCane and his crew lay around camp. +Nobody went out on the booms or touched a log. +The Kent drive would soon be running into their +rear, and this meant confusion as well as delay. +Joe finally left Cottrell on the dam and walked +down to the camp.</p> +<p>“See here, McCane,” said he, “you’ve got to +get your logs out of my way. You can’t hang +me up like this.”</p> +<p>McCane leered up at him insolently from where +he lay stretched on the ground, resting comfortably +against a log.</p> +<p>“Can’t I? Not a log goes through till I’m good +an’ ready.”</p> +<p>“But you’ve got no right——” Joe began hotly, +and paused as he saw the living sneer in the +other’s eyes. He realized that argument was +worse than useless and went back to his position. +There he awaited the coming of MacNutt and his +own crew, wondering what had delayed them.</p> +<p>MacNutt had been delayed for a few hours by +a small jam, but finally he ran into the logs of +McCane’s rear. He reached the dam at the +head of a dozen indignant “bully-boys,” and he +and Joe tackled McCane.</p> +<p>“You’ve got to move your logs,” Joe told him +again.</p> +<p>“Not till I get ready,” McCane answered as +before.</p> +<p>“You think you’ll hang our drive, do you?” +said MacNutt. “Well, you won’t. You get +your crew out on them booms at once and go to +sluicing.”</p> +<p>McCane merely grinned.</p> +<p>“Get at it!” cried the foreman furiously, and +took a step forward.</p> +<p>Rough Shan did not yield an inch.</p> +<p>“If you want a fight you can have it quick,” +said he. “Me men have quit me. I can’t pay +their wages; I’m hung up meself.”</p> +<p>“That’s a poor lie,” said MacNutt.</p> +<p>“Ask them,” returned McCane. “If ye will +step out here I’ll beat the face off of ye!”</p> +<p>MacNutt ignored the challenge and questioned +the men. They backed up Rough Shan’s statement +surlily. Convinced that they were lying +but unable to prove it, Joe and MacNutt held +council. They had to get their logs through, and +the only way to do it was to sluice McCane’s first, +and charge him with the time.</p> +<p>“A lot of good that will do,” said Joe. “He’ll +let us sluice them and then hang us up somewhere +again.”</p> +<p>“Not if I can help it,” said MacNutt. “I +think I can work a game on him. Act as if +you were good and sore.”</p> +<p>They returned to Rough Shan.</p> +<p>“Your men say they won’t work,” said Joe. +“We’ll do your sluicing for you, but you’ll pay +us for it.”</p> +<p>“Like hell I will,” said Rough Shan. “I’ll +sluice me own logs when I get a fresh crew.”</p> +<p>“You want to hang us up, do you?” cried Joe, +finding no difficulty in simulating anger. “You +can’t do it. My men will pitch the whole bunch +of you into the pond if I give them the word. +I’ll put your logs through. MacNutt, start the +sluicing.”</p> +<p>“I warn ye to let my logs alone,” said Rough +Shan. “I’ll hold ye responsible for every stick +that goes through the chute.”</p> +<p>“All right,” said Joe, and turned away.</p> +<p>The sluicing began at once. MacNutt issued +private instructions to Cooley and Cottrell. +They started upstream, where they were shortly +joined by ten more. There they picked up +a peakie, and laboriously portaged the heavy +boat through the woods well out of sight of the +dam, setting it in the water below. With another +trip they brought augers, boom-chains and +shackles, and a manilla rope. Embarking they +ran downstream two miles.</p> +<p>At that point the river ran past the mouth of +a backwater, an old channel, now an almost +currentless little lake, reedy, with shores of +floating bog and bottomed with ooze of unknown +depth. The water ran into it sluggishly, and +drained out half a mile below over muddy shallows. +Logs once ensnared in this backwater +could be taken out only at the cost of much time +and labour.</p> +<p>The dozen, working at speed, constructed a +boom of logs shackled end to end. This they +strung slantwise across the stream. One end +was moored to the lower side of the backwater’s +inlet; the other to the opposite bank upstream. +Thus logs coming down were deflected to the +backwater. Six men with pike poles manned the +boom, walking to and fro on the precarious footing, +shoving the logs, as they came down, toward +the slough. The others saw them safe inside. +Dave Cottrell sat in midstream in the peakie, a +rifle across his knees, watching either bank.</p> +<p>The work proceeded merrily, for the rivermen +enjoyed the trick. Late in the afternoon half a +dozen of McCane’s crew hove in sight. When +they saw the boom and comprehended its meaning +they ran forward to cut its moorings.</p> +<p>“You get back there!” yelled Cottrell, raising +his rifle. As they paid no attention to him he +fired. The bullet cut dirt at the toes of the foremost. +“I’ll drop one of ye next time,” Cottrell +warned them, his eyes glued to the sights.</p> +<p>They halted and cursed him.</p> +<p>“When I count twenty I’m goin’ to start shootin’ +the hats off of ye,” said Cottrell. “If I was on +shore I could do it easy, an’ hurt no one. Out +here the water jiggles the boat, an’ I may go high +or low. One—two—three——”</p> +<p>He began to count. At “ten” they gave +back; at “fifteen” they were in full retreat.</p> +<p>McCane, when the news was brought to him, +ran out on the booms, his face working with rage. +Profanity spewed from his mouth in a steady +stream.</p> +<p>“You’ll bring every log out o’ that backwater +or I’ll know why,” he thundered. “A dirty trick!”</p> +<p>“Dealin’ with you we’re dirty every time from +now out, and you can tie to that,” MacNutt told +him. “Every log in your drive is goin’ into that +backwater if she’ll hold them. You’ll get them +out yourself, or train beavers to do it for you. +You stinkin’, lowdown Mick, you’ve been givin’ +us dirt all winter. Here’s where we get square. +Now get off o’ these booms, or I’ll bash in your +head with a peavey. If I say ‘sic ’em’ to the boys +you know what’ll happen. You won’t have camp +nor crew nor nothin’ in ten minutes, an’ you’ll +spend the summer in a hospital, like enough. +I’m <em>sick</em> of you! Get out!”</p> +<p>McCane’s courage was beyond question, but +the odds were against him. Twenty hardened +fighters, every one of whom thirsted for a chance +to trample on his face with caulked boots, crowded +up behind MacNutt. His crew, rough and tough +as they were, were outnumbered, and Kent’s +men were picked “bully-boys” with a score to +even.</p> +<p>“All right,” said he. “You hear <em>me</em>, MacNutt—I’ll +get even with you an’ Kent. It’s comin’ +to both of ye. The woods ain’t big enough for +me an’ you now.”</p> +<p>“Bah!” said MacNutt, and spat.</p> +<p>McCane went ashore. MacNutt shut down +the sluicing with darkness. In the morning it +began again. That day saw McCane’s entire +drive packed in the backwater. He was helpless +to prevent it.</p> +<p>Kent’s logs slid down merrily into the free +current, and Rough Shan and his wild crew cursed +the rear out of sight as it swept around a bend +below. Then they went at the tedious task of +extricating their own drive from the backwater. +Rough Shan the next day put Callahan in charge +and departed, as he said, to see about supplies, +for his grub was running low.</p> +</div> +<div class="section" id="xvii"> +<h2 class="title section-title level-2">XVII</h2> +<p>In due course the Wind River logs reached +McColl’s Sney, where Tobin and Deever +had already brought their respective +drives, and were waiting impatiently with McKenna +for the others. A strong crew had gone +upriver to lend a hand, and as soon as MacNutt’s +logs got within a few miles the booms were opened +and the entire drive thrown into the current.</p> +<p>McColl’s boasted a post-office, and there Joe +found a stack of mail awaiting him, among it +half a dozen letters from Jack; and it is a sad +commentary on his attention to business that he +opened these first.</p> +<p>Jack did not run to sentiment in correspondence. +Her letters were frank, newsy notes, and she was +keenly interested in the drive and all that pertained +to it. She wrote much as a partner in +the business might write, giving here and there +a bit of advice from Bill Crooks’s ripe experience; +but beneath the frank words and often slangy +phrases ran a tender undercurrent which Joe +was quick to detect.</p> +<p>“What a little brick she is,” he said to himself +as he folded her last letter and placed it carefully +in an inside pocket. “When we get into touch +with the railway, I’ll bring her up to see the drive. +She’d like that, bless her little heart.”</p> +<p>This was the real thing at last. He knew that +thenceforth no pleasure would be perfect which +she did not share, no sorrow too great to be borne +with her help. He looked at the logs, acres and +acres of them herded in the booms and drifting +by in the current, at the steel-shod rivermen who +ran here and there pushing and guiding, at his +camp set back beneath the budding trees; and he +realized that the mainspring of his life and his +endeavour had changed. It was no longer the +business—his father’s business—personal pride, +nor the desire to succeed that held him to effort; +but it was Jack—straight, slim little Jack, with +the crown of dark hair and the frank, fearless +eyes. From such realizations spring success.</p> +<p>The next letter he opened was from Locke, +and the news it contained was not only unexpected +but very good indeed.</p> +<blockquote><div> +<p>You will be surprised to hear the action against Garwood +<em>et al.</em> has been discontinued, Crooks agreeing with me that we should +accept the terms of settlement offered, which, however, did not +proceed from Garwood directly. As a matter of fact, the action +was getting out of the realm of law into that of politics. The newspapers +were beginning to sit up and take notice, and it looked as +if our innocent little lawsuit might blossom into a general investigation +which, in turn, might involve a number of prominent people. +At this stage I received an intimation that if we dropped the action +we could have what we wanted, and after consultation with Crooks +we decided to do so.</p> +<p>Having the whip hand we were by no means modest in our demands. +You will hear no more of the proceedings in contempt +against you for your disregard of the Court’s order re-trespass upon +Clancys’ limits, and destruction of their property. So, too, Clancys’ +action against you for the said destruction will be withdrawn. In +future you will both receive a fair share of orders from the +contractors who have been boycotting you; you will get a fair deal +in buying timber berths; the railway will give you all the cars you +want; and there will be no discrimination against you in haulage +rates. This means that your businesses will be henceforth on a +fair competitive basis in the above respects, which is all you can +expect. It also means that the riot act has been read to Garwood +by some people who are in a position to read it. Just how he was +persuaded to crawl down I don’t know, though I rather think a +threat of legislation affecting his railways was the means used. +You see he might very easily be forced to spend anywhere from half +a million up on useless frills and equipment merely as a beginning. +Anyway, you may depend upon these terms of settlement being +carried out.</p> +<p>But all the same you are by no means out of the woods, and a +great deal depends upon your ability to deliver your logs to Wismer +& Holden by July 1st. I am satisfied in my own mind that their +offer and the “little joker” in the contract were both inspired by +Garwood; also that they will not give you an hour’s grace. McDowell, +of the Farmers’ National, tells me that his bank cannot +carry you after that date—indeed, only the practical certainty +of your filling the contract induced them to finance you to the extent +which they did. If you don’t make good they will shut down +on you, and proceed to realize on what securities they hold. Then, +a payment will be due on your mortgage to the Northern Loan +Company. You need not expect any leniency from them. So, +if I were you, I’d hustle the logs down day and night.</p> +</div></blockquote> +<p>Joe was delighted with the first part of the letter. +With fair competition in the future he saw plain +sailing ahead. But the latter part gave him some +uneasiness.</p> +<p>It was then well along in May, and the drive +was at least three weeks later than it should have +been, due to the backward season and to the +unforeseen delays. That night Joe held council +with his foremen. The probabilities were carefully +canvassed, and at the end of the discussion +old Dennis McKenna voiced the general opinion.</p> +<p>“We can make her with a week or two to spare—if +we don’t strike a snag somewheres,” said +he. “That’s allowin’ for usual hard luck, too. +The river’s risin’ now. The snows up north are +meltin’ and she’ll boom soon. That’ll help us +a lot.”</p> +<p>Day after day the brown logs of Kent’s big +drive slipped down the current. He had experienced +foremen and a strong driving crew. +A log no sooner touched the shore than it was +thrust back into deep water. The drive was +strung for miles, and all along the banks prowled +husky rivermen, peavey or pike pole in hand, +keeping the sticks hustling.</p> +<p>MacNutt and the Wind River crew, reinforced +by most of Deever’s, had the rear, which usually +means hard work, for none of the logs must be +left behind. McKenna travelled daily up and +down the banks overseeing the whole, and Joe +tramped with him. Tobin, ahead, kept a sharp +lookout for obstructions and possible jams. But +so far not a jam worth mentioning had formed.</p> +<p>“She’s too good to last,” said McKenna one +night. “Tobin will hit the Silver Chain to-morrow, and +then look out. I figured on higher +water than this.”</p> +<p>The Silver Chain was a succession of rapids +greatly disliked by river drivers. It extended for +a couple of miles, white, torn patches of water +with some clear current between. The banks +were steep, sheer rock fringed with dwarf pines, +frowning ceaselessly at the foam and turmoil +below. Jams had a habit of forming there, and +nearly always some sort of trouble occurred. The +crew had calculated upon this and they got it, for +early the next day Tobin sent them word of a +jam which he had not been able to break, and +demanded more men.</p> +<p>“And she’s a bad one, sure enough,” said +McKenna, when he and Joe arrived.</p> +<p>The jam had occurred in a rapid familiarly +known as “Hell’s Bumps,” about midway in the +Chain. Just how it had formed nobody knew. +The logs were running free when suddenly half +a dozen plugged and held for an instant only, +but it was sufficient for others to pile on top of +them. Every moment brought down fresh sticks, +and the fast water flung them at the growing mass +to make a part of it. Some shoved, up-ended, +and forced others aloft. The face of the jam +rose high, abrupt, and dangerous. The tail grew +swiftly upstream. By the time McKenna arrived +it had become a genuine, old-time “teaser.” +The foremen went over it carefully, with glum +faces, for this meant more delay; no one could +tell how long it would take to break it. They +pondered the current and the depth of water as +they knew it by experience, and were not encouraged.</p> +<p>“Sooner or later we’ll have to use powder on +her,” said McKenna; “we might as well use it +sooner.”</p> +<p>He set the crew to work picking out logs so that +the dynamite might be exploded in the bowels of +the monster. The men worked with a will but +gingerly, for the task was dangerous. The dynamite +was placed deep in the jam. When it +exploded the mass heaved, shook, buckled, and +moved a few yards downstream, where it plugged +again. Nothing had been gained.</p> +<p>“It’d take a carload of powder to root her out,” +said Tobin in disgust. “We’ll just have to dig +into her with the peavies, Dinny, and trust to +luck.”</p> +<p>So they dug with the peavies for three days, +and nothing happened. Occasionally there would +be a quiver and a long, shuddering groan as if a +monster were awaking from sleep; and once a +series of startling, premonitory cracks and a +sharp movement set the jam crew zig-zagging +for shore. But this proved a false alarm, for the +tremendous pack of timber merely settled down +and squatted immutably upon its brown haunches, +the bristling top of it seeming to grin defiance at +the puny efforts of man.</p> +<p>“If it takes a trainload of powder we’ve got to +break it,” said Joe desperately, and telegraphed +Wright from the nearest station to send on a +supply of high-explosive.</p> +<p>As the keystone supports an arch so key-logs +hold a jam. If they can be found and dislodged, +the jam collapses and disentangles. Finding +them is difficult, laborious, and very dangerous. +If there are dams above, a head of water is sometimes +let loose suddenly and the jam swept away. +But there were no dams, so that Kent had his +choice between manual labour, which is slow and +costly, and dynamite, which is sudden but uncertain. +By way of compromise he used both, +and still the logs did not move.</p> +<p>He began to feel a strange personal enmity +toward them. They were his, bought by his +money, cut by his crew, inanimate, senseless +things. And yet in the mass they seemed to +possess a personality, a living spirit of pure, +balky cussedness; they lay in bulk, a brown +shaggy monster that obstinately refused to heed +the voice of its master.</p> +</div> +<div class="section" id="xviii"> +<h2 class="title section-title level-2">XVIII</h2> +<p>Joe stood on the jam, watching the crew +dry-picking out the logs and throwing +them into the water, burrowing down for +a place to use more powder, when his name was +shouted. He looked up, and his heart gave a +decided thump. Above him stood William Crooks +and Jack.</p> +<p>Joe leaped the logs and ran up the bank. +“How did you get here?” he cried. “Why didn’t +you let me know you were coming?”</p> +<p>“We thought we’d surprise you,” said Jack +sedately. “I persuaded dad. I wanted to see +how <em>our</em> drive was coming down.”</p> +<p>“It isn’t coming down just now,” Joe observed. +“We can’t stir it. Here, come over to my tent +and make yourselves at home. Oh, Jimmy,” he +called to the cook, “rustle a good meal, will you? +Spread yourself on something fancy, now.”</p> +<p>The cook grinned amiably, and became suddenly shamefaced +as Jack smiled at him. “I +ain’t got much fixin’s,” he apologized. “If +th’ lady, there’d tell me what she’d like——”</p> +<p>“Why, you’re Jimmy Bowes!” cried Jack. “I +remember you, twelve years ago on dad’s camp on +the Little Canoe. You used to give me lumps +from the brown sugar barrel. Jimmy, I’ll always +love you for that.”</p> +<p>Jimmy Bowes blushed to the top of his bald +head as he shook hands. “You’ve growed,” +said he. “Sure, I remember, but I didn’t think +you’d know the old bull-cook. You’re—you’re +real purty!” Suddenly embarrassed by his own +candour and Joe’s laughter he retreated to his +own domain where, cursing his cookee, he +plunged into preparations for a magnificent meal.</p> +<p>McKenna and MacNutt came ashore and met +Crooks.</p> +<p>“Well, boys,” said the old lumberman, “she’s +a teaser, hey!”</p> +<p>“You bet,” replied McKenna. “She’s solid +as a cellar—froze to the bottom all the way. +Still, the water’s risin’ now, an’ she may pull +most any time.” He did not believe a word of +his statement, but he spoke so that Joe should +not be discouraged. Crooks, who did not believe +a word of it either, nodded.</p> +<p>“That’s the way with big jams. I remember, +thirty years ago on Frenchman’s Creek—” +He drew McKenna and MacNutt out of earshot, +relating his story. Suddenly he stopped. “Look +here, Dinny, if this jam don’t break mighty +soon young Kent goes out of business.”</p> +<p>“Well, I wish t’ God I knew how to break her,” +said McKenna. “The boys can’t work harder +than they’re doing. We’ve put in shots ’t’d rip +a mountain loose, and she just lays back her +ears and sits tighter.”</p> +<p>Meanwhile Jack and Joe walked upstream +along the bank. Here and there on the flanks +of the wooden monster crews of men picked +away with peavies. The clean smell of the millions +of feet of freshly cut, wet timber struck the +nostrils. The water tore and snarled at the +wedged logs, and little streams shot through the +mass, hissing and gurgling; the voice of the +checked river was deep and angry.</p> +<p>“To-morrow we’re going to fill it up with +powder and see what that does,” said Joe. “With +the rising water it may start things. If it does +not—” He shrugged his shoulders. If the jam +did not “pull” soon he was broken, and he +knew it.</p> +<p>Jack slid her arm in his. “Dad says the big +jams go when you least expect it. This will. +You have time yet, Joey-boy.”</p> +<p>He patted her hand. “It’s good of you, +Jack. Anyway, I’ve done my best, and if I’m +downed this time I can make a fresh start. I +know something about the business now.”</p> +<p>Jack looked at him and nodded. He was quite +unlike the neatly tailored Joe Kent of a year before. +He wore a battered felt hat, a gray shirt, +trousers cut off below the knees, and heavy +woollen stockings. On his feet were the “cork +boots” of the riverman. Already he had mastered +the rudiments of “birling,” and could run +across floating logs, if not gracefully at least +with slight chance of a ducking. He was bronzed +and hard, and his hands were rough and calloused. +But the difference went deeper than outward +appearance. He was stronger, graver, more +self-reliant, and the girl recognized and approved +of the change.</p> +<p>The day faded into dusk. Big fires were lighted +at the camp. Crooks and his daughter remained +for supper; afterward they were to drive back +to the little town, coming back the next morning +to see the big shots let off.</p> +<p>Crooks lit a cigar and joined the foremen, to +discuss the jam and the probability of breaking +it, and yarn of his own experiences with mighty +rivermen whose names were now but traditions. +The men lay about the fires, smoking and talking. +They were tired, and the popular vocalists, shy +because there was a girl in the camp, hung back +and muttered profane refusals when asked to +sing. Jack was disappointed. “I haven’t heard +a shanty song sung by a crew in ages. I wish +they would wake up. Am I the wet-blanket?”</p> +<p>“I’ll go over and tell them to sing anything you +like,” Joe offered promptly.</p> +<p>“No, that wouldn’t do. Some of them are +going to their blankets already. To-morrow +night—when the jam is broken—we’ll have a +celebration. I’ll sing to them myself.”</p> +<p>“If it <em>is</em> broken!”</p> +<p>“Now, Joe,” she reproved him severely, “you +brace up. We’re going to break that jam to-morrow; +and we’re going to deliver our logs on +time, and don’t you dare to even <em>think</em> we’re not. +I tell you we are! Don’t get discouraged, for +we’re going to win out.”</p> +<p>“You’re a good booster, Jack” he said, smothering +a sigh. “Of course we are. And once we +get through here we’ll have plain sailing.”</p> +<p>He pressed her hand gratefully. It was something +to receive encouragement, even if it was +plainly labelled, and he would not be so ungracious +as to tell her so. Crooks loomed out of +the darkness and called for his team. Half an +hour afterward Joe was the only man awake in +camp, and he drifted into slumber with the memory +of the soft touch of Jack’s lips as they lay for +a moment on his.</p> +<p>In the morning the jam was sown with dynamite, +planted deep beneath the logs at points +approved by McKenna. Crooks and Jack arrived. +The men came ashore and waited +anxiously.</p> +<p>Almost simultaneously, columns of water, +strips of bark and twisted, riven wood shot high +in the air, and the detonations thundered back +from the rocks. A rumbling growl issued from +the inwards of the wooden monster. It heaved +and rose. Logs toppled down the face of it, and +then the whole front cascaded in wild confusion. +Just when it seemed that the whole thing must go +motion ceased. The shaggy, bristling brute settled +back into immobility. The shots had failed.</p> +<p>Bosses and men swore fervently. These continued +failures were blots on their records as +rivermen. Their employer needed those logs +badly, and it was up to them not to disappoint +him. The jam was big and ugly, but it must be +broken. Doggedly they climbed out on the logs +again and set to work.</p> +<p>When the jam failed to “pull,” Kent looked at +Jack, reading the bitter disappointment in her +face. Somehow it helped him to conceal his own.</p> +<p>“Better luck next time, girlie,” he said. “Anyway, +we made a lot of noise.”</p> +<p>She smiled back at him, but her lips quivered, +“Of course it will pull next time; it can’t help it.”</p> +<p>“Of course not,” he agreed, being quite convinced +to the contrary.</p> +<p>They fell silent, gloomily watching the crew +at work. Below them a man clamped his peavey +into a log at the base of the pile and swung back +on it so that the tough stock bent like a whip. +Failing to move it he called a comrade. They +pried and boosted, their clinging shirts bulging +with the swell of their back-muscles. Suddenly +the log came away. Immediately a groan rose +from the timbers. The men sprang to alertness. +Crackings and complainings ran through +the mass.</p> +<p>The girl caught Joe’s arm.</p> +<p>“It’s going out, Joe! It’s going out! Oh, see it +pull!”</p> +<p>There was no doubt of it. The jam “pulled” +with the bellow of a maddened beast. Logs +shot outward, upward, downward—every way, +rolling over and over, smashing, up-ending, +grinding. Through them the white, torn water +boiled madly. The core of the jam seemed to +leap bodily downstream and then split into +fragments.</p> +<p>Over the turmoil the rivermen fled for shore, +each man balancing himself with his peavey, +held low across his body. Their flight was swift, +but unhurried and calculated. In face of the +deadliest peril of the riverman—the breaking +jam—they were cool and wary, timing to a +nicety leap from tossing log to tossing log.</p> +<p>Suddenly, opposite the watchers, a man lost +his footing and pitched forward. Another, twenty +feet away, cleared the space with two leaps, +caught the first by the collar and dragged him +upright, but the man sagged down, evidently +badly hurt. The other dropped his peavey, +heaved him up in his arms and, thus burdened, +made for shore. He sprang once, twice, hampered +by his load. Then a wave of smashing timber +surged down and over them. They were blotted +from the world, effaced without even a stain on +the torn water.</p> +<p>Jack, deadly white, with shining eyes and parted +lips, stared at the spot where they had been.</p> +<p>“Oh, the brave boy—the poor, brave boy!” +she cried. “Who was he, Joe?”</p> +<p>“Ward—Ward and McClung, two of my +best men—chums,” Joe told her bitterly. “I +wouldn’t have—Jack! Jack, look there!”</p> +<p>Strung along the jam as the men were when it +pulled, some of them had no direct route for shore. +Among these were McKenna, Dave Cottrell, and +Hill and Laflamme of Deever’s crew. The last +three were noted “white water birlers,” experts +upon logs under any and all conditions, and McKenna, +the old walking boss, in his best days +had never found a man who could put him off a +stick of pine.</p> +<p>When the jam began to pull they were opposite +a stretch of rocky bank that offered no way of +escape.</p> +<p>“Boys,” said McKenna, “it’s a bad chance, +but we’ve got to take it—we’ve got to ride her +down.”</p> +<p>As he spoke the log on which he stood pitched +sideways beneath him. He left it as a bird leaves +a bough, alighting on another, and ran the tossing +mass downstream. Cottrell, active as a squirrel, +kept close to him. Hill and Laflamme, too, kept +together but without premeditation, for each +instinctively took the course that looked best +to him. They dodged over and across the up-ending, +smashing timbers, avoiding death at each +spring by the thickness of a hair. It was this +sight which had caused Joe Kent’s exclamation.</p> +<p>Hill was the first to go. Just once he miscalculated +by the fraction of an inch. He disappeared +without a sound. Laflamme, just behind +him, sprang across the spot where his companion +had been, his eyes widening, his teeth bared and +set, his gaudy voyageur’s sash streaming from +his waist, a bright flag fluttering in the face of +destruction. Suddenly an up-ending log brushed +his thigh. It was little, but it threw him from his +stride. His shriek soared high above the roar of +wood and water as the great logs nipped out his +life.</p> +<p>Neither McKenna nor Cottrell looked back, +though they heard the cry. Their own case was +too perilous. A log thrust up suddenly beneath +Cottrell’s feet and threw him into the air as if he +had been shot from a springboard. He alighted +on his feet again by the purest of luck, and seeing +an opening of water and a free log, leaped on it, +whence he made his way to shore. McKenna, +dead-beat, gained the outlying logs and fell as +he reached solid earth.</p> +<p>Behind them the jam swept by in tossing, +foaming grandeur, the backed-up water scouring +all before it. McKenna staggered to his feet and +waved a gaunt arm.</p> +<p>“Into her, boys, and keep her hustling!” he +shouted.</p> +<p>But MacNutt and Deever were already on +their way upstream. Tobin and his crew attacked +the outlying logs and flung them into the +current. Soon the channel was brown with the +shooting sticks, flashing by in the racing water.</p> +<p>Jack, pale and shaken, sat and watched them +go by. The bright sun, the dancing water, the +bird songs from the woods, and the fierce activity +of the rivermen were all at variance with the +vision of sudden death which she had beheld. +Joe, grave and silent, came up accompanied by her +father.</p> +<p>“I guess we’d better be going, daughter,” said +Crooks gently.</p> +<p>She shook her head. “No, dad, I’d like to +stay, please. Just leave me here. Joe has the +work to see to, and you’d like to be there, too.” +The men looked at each other, and her father +nodded silently. They went upstream to where +the rear was working ferociously.</p> +<p>Jack, left alone, stared at the river, reconstructing +the scene, which she was never to entirely +forget. It was the first time she had seen men, +rejoicing in the pride of their strength, wiped +from life as dust is wiped up by a damp cloth. +From her childhood she had spent days and even +weeks in her father’s camps, meeting the big, +rough shantymen who one and all adored her; +getting glimpses of their life, but only touching the +outer shell of it; seeing them against a background +of cheerful labour, ringing axes, song and jest, +as real and yet as unreal as a stage setting—a +background which in her eyes surrounded them +with the elements of romance. Of their vices +she knew nothing save by hearsay; of the tragedy +of their lives she knew even less. Now, before +her young eyes, Fate had swooped and struck +instantly and without warning. Small wonder +that she was shocked.</p> +<p>And she was shocked, also, by the apparent +callousness of the dead men’s comrades. They +worked carelessly, as it seemed, about the very +spot where the others had died. But here common +sense came to her aid. The logs—Joe’s +logs, their logs—must be got out. No matter +what toll the river claimed the drive must go +down and to market.</p> +<p>It was the way of the world. In this as in +other things, human life was the cheapest of +commodities; its loss the least important hindrance, +of less practical moment than the breakage +of an ingenious man-made machine. She sighed +as the realization came to her. It seemed heartless, +yet she could not escape it. Sitting on the +log, staring at the river, her lips moved in almost +unconscious prayer for the men who had died +like men, doing the work they were paid to do.</p> +</div> +<div class="section" id="xix"> +<h2 class="title section-title level-2">XIX</h2> +<p>With the breaking of the big jam the luck +of the drive seemed to change. The +river was rising, the water was good, +the logs travelled freely day and night without +halt. Indeed, the delays seemed about to prove +blessings in disguise, for other firms’ drives, more +fortunate, would be out of the way. Also when +they reached the lower almost currentless stretches +of the river, down which the logs would have to +be towed in booms by steamers, there would be +no delay. But these calculations were upset +one day when they got news of a drive just ahead +of them.</p> +<p>Straightway Tobin and Joe went down to see +about it. Sure enough there was a drive, and as +he looked at the end of a stranded log the foremen +swore indignantly, for on it was stamped the +“CB” of Clancy Brothers.</p> +<p>“It’s their drive from Basket Lake,” said +Tobin. “They should have had it down three +weeks gone.” As they passed downstream he +called Joe’s attention to the rear crew. “Look +at that. See ’em sojerin’ on the job. They’re +loafin’, every mother’s son of them, and they’ve +a stronger crew than they need, too.”</p> +<p>They found Clancys’ river-boss, Tom Archer +by name, smoking a pipe and watching the indolent +efforts of half a dozen men who were not +even pretending to hustle.</p> +<p>“I thought you would have been down long +ago,” said Tobin. “Our drive is right behind, +and we’ll be bumping your rear to-morrow if you +don’t get some ginger into your crew.”</p> +<p>“They’re a lazy bunch,” said Archer without +the flicker of an eyelid. “I just have to do the +best I can with them. I’ve cursed them till my +throat went back on me.”</p> +<p>Tobin regarded him narrowly. “Let me handle +them for twenty-four hours and I’ll show you +a difference.”</p> +<p>“Thanks, but I can run my job myself,” said +Archer dryly.</p> +<p>“The point is,” Joe explained, “that my drive +is coming down a-humping, and we need all our +time because we have a delivery contract to fill. +Can you keep ahead of us, do you think?”</p> +<p>“Couldn’t say,” returned Archer.</p> +<p>“I don’t want to run down on top of you,” +said Joe. “How would it be if I turned a dozen +men into your rear to lend a hand?”</p> +<p>Archer regarded him in silence for a ten-second +interval. “When I need your help, bub, I’ll +ask for it.”</p> +<p>“I didn’t mean it that way,” Joe explained. +“I don’t suppose you want to delay me. +It’s about four days to Moore’s Rapids. Will +you oblige me by booming there till I get +through? Of course I’ll pay for the time of your +crew.”</p> +<p>“No,” Archer replied. “I have my rights on +the river and I don’t have to get out of your way. +You can tail along behind me.”</p> +<p>“The hell we can!” flared Tobin, whose temper +was always set on a hair-trigger. “Do you think +we ain’t onto you, Archer. What’s Clancys +payin’ you for doin’ their dirty work?”</p> +<p>Archer put his pipe in his pocket with deliberation. +“Any more talk like that, Tobin, and +you and me will settle it right here,” he announced.</p> +<p>Tobin, nowise loath, would have accepted the +challenge instantly, but Joe restrained him and +pointed to a man who appeared on the bank.</p> +<p>“It’s quite plain what this gentleman is up to, +Tobin. There’s Rough Shan McCane. I guess +any more talk is waste time.”</p> +<p>McCane sprang down like a cat and advanced +truculently. “Tom,” said he to Archer, “I’m +going to give this young feller a father of a lickin’ +an’ put the boots to him afterward. You look +after the other one.”</p> +<p>Joe did not assume any attitude popularly +supposed to be one of defence, but the bunched +shoulder muscles crept and crawled beneath his +shirt, and Archer, eying him carefully, interposed +a decided negative.</p> +<p>“No, you won’t. I don’t want any trouble +with Mr. Kent or his crew. If they crowd us +it’ll be different.”</p> +<p>“It’ll be a lot different,” said Tobin. “You’re +McCane, are you? I’ve heard of your doin’s +this winter. You’ve got it comin’ to you, me +buck, tie into that.”</p> +<p>Then and there hostilities would have started +but for Joe and Archer, who kept cool. Tobin +and McCane growled at each other like leashed +fighting-dogs.</p> +<p>“Come along, Tobin,” Joe ordered. “We’re +wasting time. You won’t reconsider my offer, +Archer?”</p> +<p>“No,” replied Archer flatly, “I won’t. I have +the right-of-way, and I’ll keep it.”</p> +<p>The way he intended to keep it immediately +became apparent. His drive travelled with maddening +slowness. His rear crew made great pretence +of working, but the feint was transparent +and the tempers of Kent’s men wore under the +strain. One or two fights took place, more or +less indecisive. Clearly a climax was at hand.</p> +<p>Joe took counsel with his foremen, and they +threshed the matter out one night sitting around +the fire. It was plain that as long as Clancys’ +drive kept ahead they could make no speed. +Much time had already been lost. They could +not pass it on the river, and Archer would not +yield his right-of-way at Moore’s Rapids. It +looked like an impasse. It was quiet Deever +who suggested the only way out. Deever usually +had little to say. The reverse of Tobin, he was +slow to anger, but knew no limit when aroused, +as unruly lumber jacks found to their cost. He +was rather small of frame, but built of wires and +steel springs.</p> +<p>“If we run our drive right on top of them and +mix the logs we’ll make better time than we’re +making now,” said he. “Then we sack out our +own, and they can bring theirs along or not, as +they like. There’s sortin’ booms at Moore’s, and +we’ve a strong crew, just spoilin’ for a scrap. If +we take charge an’ cull out all Clancys’ logs, why, +then we get ahead. It just means a little fight.”</p> +<p>The foremen looked at each other and nodded. +Then they looked at Joe. “It sounds good,” said +he. “Of course, we haven’t any right to do it.”</p> +<p>“Not a right,” said MacNutt cheerfully, “but +we’ve got a blame good crew.”</p> +<p>Joe laughed. “Go to it, then,” said he. “Slam +the whole drive down on top of them as soon as +you can.”</p> +<p>The speed of a drive depends upon the work of +the crew, for although logs can travel no faster +than the current the more that are kept in the +current the faster the whole will travel. Kent’s +men sailed into the work like demons. No log +had a chance to rest. Soon the two drives tangled +and became one, although naturally Clancys’ +leading logs were far in advance of Kent’s. The +latter’s crew left the other logs religiously alone, +but Clancys’ men soon began to shove Kent’s +logs toward the shallows.</p> +<p>“Leave them logs alone!” roared Big Cooley +savagely, detecting a man in the act. The man +swore back at him defiantly and shoved another +log shoreward. Cooley jumped from the log on +which he stood, alighting on the one ridden by +the offender, and knocked him into the water.</p> +<p>In two minutes the crews were more tangled than +the logs. More of Kent’s men piled downstream +and joined the melee. Finally Clancys’ rear crew, +badly whipped, left the field to their opponents.</p> +<p>When Archer heard of the fight he came back +at once. “I won’t stand this,” said he. “You’ve +got no right to run into my drive.”</p> +<p>“Keep it out of my way, then,” said Joe. +“I gave you your chance; I’m going to drive clean +through you.”</p> +<p>“We’ll see about that,” said Archer, and took +his departure.</p> +<p>Thereafter his crew worked hard but avoided +trouble. Nevertheless the drives were hopelessly +entangled, and they drew near Moore’s Rapids.</p> +<p>The booms at Moore’s had been put in and were +maintained by the various lumber firms for their +own convenience, so that one had as much right +to them as another. This was lucky for Kent, +for had the booms been owned by a river improvement +company, as were those on the lower river, +he could not have carried out the high-handed +act he contemplated. As it was, the question +resolved itself into whether he could seize the +booms and hold control of them while he sorted +the logs. By so doing he laid himself open to +an action for damages, but he could better afford +that than further delay.</p> +<p>Twenty-four hours before any logs could reach +Moore’s, McKenna chose a picked crew and took +possession of the booms, forestalling Archer, +who intended to do that very thing himself. +Therefore when he arrived with a picked crew of +his own some hours later he became righteously +indignant.</p> +<p>“I have the right-of-way, McKenna,” said he, +“and my logs are going down that channel first. +You can sort out yours and wait your turn.”</p> +<p>“I hear what you say,” said McKenna from +the boom. “You’re making a little mistake, +Archer. <em>Ours</em> are going through first.”</p> +<p>“What?” cried Archer, suddenly realizing the +situation. “Do you know what the law is? +The leading drive has precedence in booms, +chutes, and slides. You’d better be careful!”</p> +<p>“I know all that,” retorted McKenna. “That’s +the law—<em>and we’re going to break it</em>. You’d +hog the river on us, would you? Well, we’ll +hog the booms and channel on you!”</p> +<p>Archer spat into the stream and swore. “I +have nothing against you, McKenna, but you nor +no other man can hang my drive. I’ll bring down +my crew and clear you off the booms. If I +can’t do that I’ll cut them and let the whole +shootin’ match go down together.”</p> +<p>“That’s big talk,” said McKenna. “Now you +listen here. We’re doing this cold because we +have to, and you know it. We won’t stop at +anything. Bring down your crew and try to +clean us out if you like. We expect it. But if +you try to cut the booms it’s different.” He +pointed to a pier out in the current. On it in a +state of splendid isolation, sat Davy Cottrell. +”That man out there has a rifle and he can hit +birds flying with it. He’ll shoot the first man +that touches the booms. If you don’t believe +that, get somebody to try.”</p> +<p>Shortly afterward the first logs began to arrive, +and with them Archer’s entire crew. Immediately +they made a determined attempt to seize +the booms, but as these were already occupied +by Kent’s men, against whom they could advance +only in single file, their numbers gave them little +advantage. The fight raged along the length +of the slippery, swaying boom-logs. Men knocked +off into the river swam and climbed up again, or +cunningly seized others by the ankles and upset +them, taking the chance of being kicked in the +face by spiked boots. Gradually Archer’s men +pushed McKenna’s backward and might have +driven them from the booms altogether had not +the rest of Kent’s crew arrived, thirsting for +battle.</p> +<p>Archer’s crew, now hopelessly outnumbered, +fought gamely. The fight spread from booms to +shore. Tobin went for Archer and met his match. +MacNutt tried to get to Rough Shan, but could +not. Quiet Deever, white-faced and eyes ablaze, +his lips lifting at the corners in a wolfish snarl, +was before him.</p> +<p>“‘Rough Shan’ they call you,” he gritted +through set teeth. “Let’s see how rough you are, +you dirty cur. Come on an’ rough it with a +littler man, you lousy, camp-burnin’ high-banker!” +He planted a terrific right in McCane’s +face, and was himself knocked sideways the next +instant by a heavy swing. They went at it +hammer-and-tongs.</p> +<p>Joe Kent found himself paired with a smooth-faced, +bronzed, shanty lad who fought with a +grin and hit with a grunt. His blows were like +the kicks of a mule, but his knowledge of boxing +was rudimentary. The young boss smashed him +almost at will, but the grin never faded. Always +he came back for more, and when he landed, +it jarred Joe from top to toe. Finally they +clenched and wrestled to and fro among the +rough stones of the beach. At this game Joe +rather fancied himself, but all he ever remembered +of the outcome was that suddenly his feet flew +into the air—the rest was a shock, accompanied +by marvellous constellations.</p> +<p>He came to with water sluicing his face and a +hat fanning air into his lungs. He got to his +feet rather dizzily, looked around and laughed.</p> +<p>“You cleaned them out, did you?”</p> +<p>Deever, his face battered and swollen and his +knuckles cut to raw meat, grinned happily. +Tobin, one eye closed and the other blinking, +nodded.</p> +<p>“We’re sluicin’ now.”</p> +<p>“We put the run on them,” said McKenna, +whose leathery face bore the marks of war. +“Lucky for us we had the numbers. They’re +hard lads, but ’tis not like they’ll bother us again. +Now, boys, the boss is all right. Out on the booms +with yez.”</p> +<p>Without delay they swarmed out on the booms. +Others went upstream to hustle the logs down. +The work of sorting and sluicing went forward +merrily, for Kent’s logs outnumbered Clancys’ +in the proportion of four to one, and besides the +crew was not very particular as to the ownership +of individual logs, which could be culled out +later. The main thing was speed. Clancys’ +logs were sided into an inner boom; Kent’s were +allowed to go down with the current. It took +time, but it was worth it.</p> +<p>Thus Kent’s big drive passed Clancys’ and ran +Moore’s Rapids in defiance of the law and usage +of the river; but every man, from the young +boss down, was very sure that the end justified +the means, and was quite ready to take any consequences +that might accrue from the high-handed +act.</p> +</div> +<div class="section" id="xx"> +<h2 class="title section-title level-2">XX</h2> +<p>Joe Kent preceded his drive to Falls City +by a few days. He found Wright in +great feather. Several large orders had +been placed, proof that the terms of the settlement +mentioned by Locke in his letter were being +carried out. But when Joe asked the lawyer for +more details the latter shook his head.</p> +<p>“I can’t mention names, for that was part of +the arrangement,” said he. “You be satisfied +with what you’ve got. You’re a hundred times +better off than if you had merely exposed +Garwood.”</p> +<p>“I know it,” Joe admitted; “but are you sure +the arrangement will be carried out?”</p> +<p>“Certain. You’ve got good orders coming in, +haven’t you? You won’t have anything to complain +of hereafter. How about those logs? +Can you deliver them on time?”</p> +<p>“I think so,” Joe replied.</p> +<p>“Well, you’d better be mighty sure before you +take them past your own booms. Wismer will +refuse to accept them if he gets half a chance, and +see where that would leave you. You couldn’t +bring them back upstream, and there isn’t a +concern on the river below Wismer that would +buy them, this side of Hughson’s Mills. To get +there, towing charges and tolls would eat up +your profits, and old Hughson would whipsaw +you, anyway.”</p> +<p>“Crooks says I can do it, and so do my foremen,” +said Joe. “I’ve got to sell the logs to meet +my liabilities. I’ll keep barely enough for my +own mill.”</p> +<p>“All right—if you’re dead-sure,” said Locke.</p> +<p>The situation was made very clear to Joe. He +was told plainly that the bank had gone with him +as far as it would go. In the event of non-delivery +his credit would be cut off and his securities +sold. The mortgage company would +enforce their rights in any event. Also there +was no doubt that Wismer & Holden would +enforce to the letter the penalty clause in their +contract. These things, taken together, meant +bankruptcy. And that would mean that his +marriage with Jack must be put off indefinitely. +On the other hand, if he delivered the logs he +could wipe off most of the debt, put his business +on a solid basis, and ask her to become mistress +of the old Kent homestead without delay. It was +worth fighting for, and Joe’s’ lean jaw hardened +as he swore to himself that nothing should stop +his drive.</p> +<p>Business claimed him by day, but the evenings +he was able to spend with Jack. They sat in the +dusk of Crooks’s wide veranda, watching the +stars light and wink in the June sky, while +soft-winged moths fluttered ghost-like among +the shading vines. Neither was overly given to +sentiment, but in those brief evenings their confidences +grew; and each, looking into the other’s +inmost mind, found there only honour and loyalty +and little of ambition, but a great desire to live +straightly and cleanly and truly, thinking evil +of none and doing such good as might be.</p> +<p>Being ordinary young people they did not put +these things into words. They rather shied from +the sentimental and high-flown, preferring the +more accustomed planes of speech and thought. +But they understood each other, and so were +content. The only shadow, and a constantly +recurring one, was the question of the drive.</p> +<p>“If I don’t make it I’m busted,” said Joe +practically, “and so I’ve got to make it. There’s +no reason why I shouldn’t. Now, it’s this way.” +For the twentieth time he went over the problem.</p> +<p>“Dad says you can make it,” Jack agreed. +“It’s a week to Steven’s Ferry. Down to Burritt’s +Rapids is two days more. Then allow time to +tow through Thirty Mile Lake—oh, you can +make it with nearly a week to spare.”</p> +<p>“Of course I can,” said Joe, “and then, Jack, +I think we’d better get married.”</p> +<p>She flushed to the roots of her brown hair.</p> +<p>“In the fall, Joe?”</p> +<p>“No—right away. What’s the use of waiting? +My business will be solid then, and I deserve +a holiday. Let’s take one together.”</p> +<p>“Well”—she considered the question gravely, +without affected hesitation—“I’d like that. +I’ll see what dad says about it.”</p> +<p>“It’s up to you.”</p> +<p>“Yes—I know. Still, we’d better not leave +him out.”</p> +<p>“I don’t want to. He’s as good a friend as I +have. What he says goes, of course; but he +won’t object if you don’t.”</p> +<p>“I won’t.” Suddenly she threw her arms +around his neck and kissed him. “Oh, Joe, +you’ve got to deliver those logs! You’ve got to, +you’ve got to!”</p> +<p>“Jack,” he said grimly, “I’d deliver ’em now +if the whole blamed river dried up. Come down +to-morrow and see them go through. We’ll cut +out enough to run the mill, but the main drive +will go straight ahead and I’m going with it. +I’ll wire you as soon as we strike Burritt’s Rapids. +I can tell then how it’s going to go.”</p> +<p>“Do you think I’ll stay here?” she cried. +“Dad and I are going down to see the drive come +into Wismer & Holden’s booms. You’ll probably +see us at Thirty Mile.”</p> +<p>The sun was barely risen when the first logs of +the big drive swung down leisurely, their pace +accelerating as the faster current above the falls +gripped them. This vanguard was run into Kent’s +booms, and the rivermen cheered as they caught +sight of the young boss, and cheered again for +William Crooks and his daughter who stood beside +him. They ran gaily along the slippery brown +logs and danced lightly across their backs, pushing, +pulling, prodding, guiding and restraining, +and the booms filled magically.</p> +<p>The main drive did not halt at all. The river +was crowded with logs, and they were fed through +the huge water-gates of the slides as fast and as +thick as they would run. It was beautiful, +clean, uninterrupted work, and when the last +stick had shot through Joe bade Jack good-bye +and followed.</p> +<p>Now, at last, the drive was on the homestretch +with a few days to spare—a narrow +margin, but still a margin. It was then the +fifteenth of June, and the river was at its +best. Taking into consideration the high +water and consequently more rapid current, +Joe hoped to reach Burritt’s Rapids by the +twenty-third. That would give one week +from that point to Wismer & Holden’s mills, a +distance of thirty-five miles. Below Burritt’s +Rapids, however, was Thirty Mile Lake, a shallow, +almost currentless expansion of the river, some +thirty miles long and varying in width from half +a mile to two miles, through which the drive +would have to be towed by steamers owned by a +river improvement company, who also owned the +booms above the rapids. The time occupied by +towing would depend on the weather. Therefore, +although the probabilities were in Joe’s +favour there was always a doubt. He must +remain on the anxious seat till the actual event.</p> +<p>Because of the good water the drive made +Burritt’s on the twenty-second instead of the +twenty-third. They made it in a heavy downriver +gale with an accompaniment of slashing +rain that soaked every one to the skin.</p> +<p>Because a drive turned down the rapids would +simply float all over the lake and have to be +gathered up again, a task involving much time +and trouble, the logs were always put through a +narrow, inner channel protected by cribwork +and booms, and caught in other booms below. +There steamers took them in tow and turned +them loose down other rapids at the foot of the +lake, which were about three miles above Wismer +& Holden’s booms. Accordingly, when they +made Burritt’s with some daylight to spare the +dripping crew ran the drive into the booms and +started to feed down the inner channel. When +darkness fell they winched a boom across the +narrow mouth and quit.</p> +<p>The ground was wet, the tents were wet, and +so were the blankets. Although it was June the +wind was raw and cutting. The rain slashed and +sputtered at the fires. Clothes hung before them +steamed, but accumulated moisture faster than +they dried. Altogether it was miserable, and the +rivermen cursed the weather heartily. They +squatted on the sodden ground beneath canvas +that let through fine spray with every gust, and +big teardrops which had an aggravating habit of +landing on the back of the neck, and juggled tin +plates piled with pork and beans on their knees, +wiping them up with huge wedges of bread.</p> +<p>“A curse of a night,” grumbled Haggarty, +shifting away from a drop which threatened to +become a stream. “Black as a cord of black +cats, an’ rainin’ fit to flood hell! An’ not a dry +stitch to me back, an’ the blanket’s soaked, an’ +all. Fill up me plate again, you, cookee, an’ +slap a dose of molasses on her. Praise be, me +hide is waterproof an’ the inside of me’s dry.”</p> +<p>“An’ that’s more nor mine will be this day +week,” said big Cooley, licking his lips in pure +anticipation. “A hard winter, an’ a long drive. +The throat of me aches for the rasp of a drink of +the good stuff!”</p> +<p>“For sure, for sure,” Chartrand agreed with +him. “I’ll be dry, me, lak one sap maple in +August. When dat drive is finish’, by dam’ I +stay dronk for one mont’. Hooray!”</p> +<p>“An’ you see me so,” Cooley promised. “I’ll +find that McCane an’ put the boots till him till +he can’t crawl. A dirty dog! An’ Tom Archer +is no better—no, nor his bosses.”</p> +<p>In another tent Joe and his foremen ate supper +and listened to the rain, the wind, the roar of the +rapids, and the swirl of the current as it talked +against the booms. MacNutt went out and +came back dripping.</p> +<p>“Can’t see a thing,” he reported. “The wind +is gettin’ worse, an’ the water’s risen nigh a +foot. How is them booms, Dinny? Our whole +drive is down by now, an’ there’s an awful weight +on them with this wind an’ the high water.”</p> +<p>“I went over them when we came down,” +returned McKenna. “They’re all right. The +big lower one is three logs, and well anchored.”</p> +<p>“They should have another anchor-pier in the +middle of it,” growled MacNutt. “It has an awful +belly. If it went out on us——” He paused and +shook his head.</p> +<p>The boom referred to was directly above the +rapids, strung at an angle across the river. Upon +it came all the pressure of the logs above. It +was a massive affair, built of three logs fastened +side by side and chained to other threes end to +end. The ends of the boom were secured to +huge, stone-filled piers. It appeared capable of +holding any weight of logs.</p> +<p>“What’s the use of talkin’ like that, Mac?” +said Tobin, half angrily. “You’re borrowin’ +trouble for every one. The boom’s all right. I +looked at it myself after Dinny did.” Nevertheless +he went out ten minutes later and was absent +sometime. “She sure has a belly on her,” he +said when he returned. “She’ll hold, though. +I think the wind’s dropped some.”</p> +<p>As he uttered the words a shrieking gust almost +laid the tent flat. A shout and muffled curses +followed.</p> +<p>“I’ll bet one of the men’s tents has blown +down,” said Joe. “Hear Cooley swear.”</p> +<p>They grinned at each other as Cooley rose to +the occasion. The wind grew worse. The side and +roof of the tent bellied in and slatted in the squalls. +Tobin went out and tautened the guy ropes.</p> +<p>“It’d blow the bark from a tree,” he cried +when he came in.</p> +<p>McKenna sat pulling his grizzled moustache. +The wind, the rapidly rising water, the huge +weight of timber, and MacNutt’s forebodings +were getting on his nerves. Suddenly he began +to pull on his spiked river boots.</p> +<p>“What’s up, Dinny?” MacNutt asked.</p> +<p>“I’m going to look at that boom,” McKenna +replied. “You’ve got me all worked up over it. +I <em>know</em> it’s all right; but all the same——”</p> +<p>“I’ll go with you,” said Joe, reaching for his +boots.</p> +<p>“You’re not good enough on the logs yet,” +said the walking boss bluntly. “It’s pitch dark +and blowin’ great guns. It’s an old hand’s job, +Mr. Kent. You’d only hinder me.”</p> +<p>Joe realized the truth of the words.</p> +<p>“Well, I’m going,” said MacNutt.</p> +<p>“Same here,” said Tobin.</p> +<p>“Sure,” said Deever.</p> +<p>Each man took a lantern. Joe went with +them. Anyway he would go as far as the first +pier. They could hear the logs grumbling and +complaining.</p> +<p>“I don’t like it,” said MacNutt. “It sounds—” He +hesitated to put the thought into +words, and swung his lantern high, peering at the +intensified darkness.</p> +<p>“Oh, shut <em>up!</em>” snapped Tobin. “What do +you want to croak for? Of course they’ll talk +with the wind an’ current an’ all. Funny if +they wouldn’t.”</p> +<p>They ran out across the almost solid carpet of +timber that filled the head of the channel, and +reached the anchor-pier of the big lower boom. +McKenna, in advance, stopped short with a gasp:</p> +<p>“They’re moving, boys—they’re <em>moving!</em>”</p> +<p>Slowly, with the calm certainty of irresistible +might, the big drive was on its way. The logs +ground at the anchor pier and thrust and bumped +at it. The feeble rays of the upheld lanterns threw +a short circle of light on the field of timber as it slid +smoothly downstream. Joe’s heart, for the first +time, skipped a beat. The boom had gone out.</p> +<p>McKenna leaped out on the moving logs. +MacNutt caught him.</p> +<p>“Come back, Dinny! What do you think +you can do?”</p> +<p>McKenna’s seamed face was absolutely colourless +as he turned to Joe.</p> +<p>“He’s right, Mr. Kent. I can’t do a damned +thing. It’s my fault. I should ’a’ backed the +boom with another.”</p> +<p>His voice was vibrant with sorrow and self-accusation. +He knew what it meant to his +employer. The logs, driven by the wind, would +go down the rapids and be flung far and wide over +Thirty Mile Lake. To gather them up would be a +task of weeks; they could not be delivered on time.</p> +<p>Joe met the blow like a man. “That’s all +right, Dinny,” he said. “It was up to the company, +not to you. Their boom was weak somewhere, +that’s all. Now what can we do about it? +They have two steamers below. We’ll need ’em +right away. Mac, you tell ’em to get fire under +their boilers, quick. Promise ’em anything. +Say you’ve got the company’s orders—but get +’em. Tobin, rouse out the boys and get ’em +down to the boats double-quick. Take every foot +of rope and chain you can find or steal. Deever, +you open the channel boom and let everything +go that will go. Dinny, you come with me.”</p> +<p>In five minutes they were banging at the door +of the boom company’s representative, bringing +that worthy citizen from his bed to the window.</p> +<p>“Your boom has gone out and my drive is over +the rapids into the lake,” Joe told him. “I haven’t +got time to talk about damages or liabilities now. +I want your steamers day and night till I sweep +my logs up and every other boat you can hire as +well. I want every river man you can lay your +hands on, too. I’ll pay for these things at once, +pending the adjustment of any question of responsibility. +Will you do your best for me?”</p> +<p>“Sure I will,” said the agent. “Wait till I +get my clothes on and I’ll come along. It’s +funny about that boom. I don’t see——”</p> +<p>But Joe and McKenna were already out of +earshot, hurrying back to the river. The camp +was buzzing like a hornet’s nest. Men were +catching up ropes, chains, peavies, and pike poles +and hurrying off into the darkness. Joe, Tobin, +and McKenna followed.</p> +<p>As they passed the head of the channel where +Deever and half a dozen men were stationed the +foreman called to them:</p> +<p>“I’ve got something to show you, Mr. Kent. +It won’t take five minutes.”</p> +<p>He led the way over the logs and down the +cribwork and booming of the channel, and stopped: +“One end of the boom swung down here when +she went out,” he said, and lowered his lantern. +“Look at that!”</p> +<p>They bent low and peered at the ends of three +joined boom-timbers. The ends were white, +square, and new.</p> +<p>“Sawed through, by thunder!” cried McKenna.</p> +</div> +<div class="section" id="xxi"> +<h2 class="title section-title level-2">XXI</h2> +<p>The <em>Sophie Green</em>, a beamy, shallow-draft, +paddle-wheeled old teakettle, lay broad-side-on +to a rickety wharf which was +piled with cord wood. From the pile, across her +gang-plank and back again, trotted an endless +procession of deckhands and rivermen, carrying +the big sticks that were her fuel. The fires were +roaring beneath her boilers, and the gauge was +beginning to move.</p> +<p>A hundred yards away, at another cord wood +pile, her sister craft, the <em>Ada Bell</em>, was receiving +like attentions. Out in the darkness, by the +fitful light of lanterns, half a dozen big riverboats +crowded with men, were shackling up short +lengths of boom into longer ones. Chains rattled +and hammers rang on cold-shuts as the crews +joined the timbers. Down the shore for a mile +and more other rivermen hunted for boats, taking +everything that would pull two pairs of oars.</p> +<p>When she had steam enough the <em>Sophie Green</em> +bellowed and cast off, wallowing around in a short +semi-circle. A peakie shot under her stern and +a heaving-line uncoiled across her deck. To this +was attached a hawser. It came inboard to +the bucking clatter of a winch, and was made +fast to the towing bitts. Then the crew of +the peakie swarmed aboard; the peakie was +hoisted up with half a dozen others, and the +<em>Sophie</em> felt her way downstream in the darkness, +a half-mile of boom trailing after her. In twenty +minutes the <em>Ada Bell</em> followed with more +boom-timbers in tow.</p> +<p>The river just below the rapids was obstructed +by the floating logs of the broken drive, and the +<em>Sophie</em> went through them gingerly, fearful for +her paddle-wheels. It was still pitch-dark and +blowing hard, but the rain had ceased. The +lake opened out before them, scummed with foam +and torn into choppy, white-topped waves among +which the logs were tossing.</p> +<p>Joe and McKenna were in the wheel-house +with Capt. Jimmy Congdon, a veteran of the +river who had been a warm friend of William +Kent’s, and was ready to do anything for his son. +Captain Jimmy was broad, ruddy, and silver-haired, +with a pair of steady blue eyes that never +shifted. Periodically he spat to leeward with +precision, but until the lake opened up his whole +attention was devoted to the wheel.</p> +<p>“Steerin’ on a night like this is mostly be-guess +and be-god,” he vouchsafed. “There’s Six Mile +Light off to sta’bo’rd. Now, young man, I run +this boat to suit you, so tell me what you want.”</p> +<p>“I want to boom the logs the easiest and +quickest way,” Joe informed him. “How would +you do it?”</p> +<p>Captain Jimmy spat and reflected. “Blowin’ +like she is now logs’d jump a boom even if we got +’em into one; but she’s breezin’ too hard to last. +If it was me, come daylight I’d boom off the Fire +Island Channel and sweep the floatin’ stuff +into it.”</p> +<p>This advice was identical with McKenna’s. +Joe decided to adopt it. Daylight found them +lying to, below long, swampy Fire Island, which +lay well over toward the eastern shore. They +strung a boom from the lower end to the mainland, +thus closing the channel and forming a great +pocket; and then they went at the tough job of +“sweeping up” the scattered drive.</p> +<p>The logs were strewn all over the upper end of +the lake; but by that strange attraction which +floating objects have for one another many of +them lay in small rafts. They lay inert, motionless +on the almost glassy expanse, for the storm had +blown itself out and a sunny day of almost +perfect calm succeeded. When these floating +patches of timber were reached the peakies were +dumped over the side and the rivermen tumbled +into them.</p> +<p>The <em>Sophie Green</em> steamed in a slow, careful +circle, and when she had completed it her half-mile +of trailing boom lay in a great loop about +many patches of logs. She picked up the other +end and went ahead, and the logs naturally +sagged back into the farther end of the loop.</p> +<p>The <em>Ada Bell</em> went through a similar manœuvre. +Then they steamed up to more logs, +winged out one end of the boom alongside, and +the men in the peakies fed them more logs through +the opening. When the booms were full, they +took them to Fire Island, emptied the logs out +into the big pocket, and came back for more.</p> +<p>As the morning lengthened they obtained +reinforcements in the form of a powerful tug +belonging to the company and a couple of launches +whose owners were not averse to making a few +honest dollars. These were of material assistance. +The tug took one end of a boom and the +<em>Sophie</em> the other and steamed straight ahead in +parallel courses. The swath of the boom took +up every log between the two boats. Then the +<em>Sophie</em> took up both ends as before, but left a +dozen lengths of boom-timbers trailing free. +These were winged out by a launch, and the +rivermen fed logs down the moving funnel thus +formed. The tug, meanwhile, went to the assistance +of the <em>Ada Bell</em>.</p> +<p>In this manner the lake was being expeditiously +cleared of the rafts of floating logs. Joe blessed +his stars for the quiet weather, but for which he +could have made but little progress, and prayed +for its continuance. He had eight days to sweep +up the broken drive and bring it through, and +this was not a bit too much.</p> +<p>The logs floating openly in the lake were the +easiest part of the job; but there were more, +strewn along the shore, washed high and dry and +embedded in the sand by the storm or caught in +shallows and marshy bays—there was where +the pull would come.</p> +<p>In the afternoon a long, lean power-boat +racketed up the lake, nosed the logs inside Fire +Island, went up one shore and down the other, and +finally ran alongside the <em>Sophie Green</em>. In it sat +Wismer, and he hailed Joe, who looked over the rail.</p> +<p>“This is a nice mess your drive is in, Kent,” +said he. “I’m afraid you won’t be able to get it +down in time.”</p> +<p>“I’ll try, anyway,” Joe told him.</p> +<p>“You can’t make it,” said Wismer. “Now, +I don’t want to be hard on you, and I’ll tell you +what I’ll do. I’ll make you an offer for the logs +as they lie, and if you’ll accept it I’ll cancel our +existing contract.”</p> +<p>“Let’s hear your offer,” said Joe. When he +heard it he laughed, for it was entirely piratical. +“You must think I’m easy. You couldn’t steal +logs much cheaper.”</p> +<p>“Take it or leave it,” said Wismer, a little +puzzled. The Joe Kent with whom he had made +his contract had certainly been easy; but this +bronzed young fellow leaning over the rail was +different. “You don’t want to forget that +penalty clause,” he added warningly.</p> +<p>“Not for a minute,” said Kent. “I know quite +well that Ackerman or Garwood framed up that +cinch contract. And I know you’re trying to +get the logs cheap now, and give them the +double-cross. I’m not kicking—merely pointing out +that I know what you’re up to.”</p> +<p>Wismer reddened, and for the first time found +a difficulty in meeting the young man’s eye. +“You’re talking utter nonsense,” said he. “I +don’t know what you mean, and I don’t much +care. If you like to take up the offer I’ve just +made, all right. If not, I’ll hold you to the letter +of our contract.”</p> +<p>“I’m holding myself to it,” said Joe. “I want +you to have your booms ready for me, for the +first tow of logs goes down the lake to-night.”</p> +<p>He watched Wismer’s launch gather way, and +turned to the business in hand. At dusk the +<em>Ada Bell</em> picked up one tow and the tug another, +and started down the lake. The tired crew went +ashore just above Fire Island, where the camp +was established. Joe and McKenna remained +on the <em>Sophie</em>. After supper the foreman came +aboard to plan the next day’s work.</p> +<p>“Boys,” said Joe, “who cut that boom?”</p> +<p>“McCane, an’ no one else,” MacNutt answered, +and the others nodded.</p> +<p>“That’s what I think,” said Joe, “but I’ll +never be able to prove it. Now, then, about +the drive. Is it possible to get it down on time?”</p> +<p>“Shure,” said McKenna, “if we have good +weather.”</p> +<p>“Not unless,” said Tobin.</p> +<p>On a fine-weather basis they planned the +work. In the morning they went at it again. +Before noon the tow-boats returned, the long +booms trailing behind them. Their tows had +been emptied down the rapids, and a small crew +was seeing them safe into Wismer & Holden’s +booms.</p> +<p>Late in the afternoon a launch—a flying +thing of spotless paint, burnished brass, and +throbbing engines—split the lake. A wall of +water fell away on either side of her shearing +stem, and the white kick of her wake streamed out +behind like a giant ribbon. She slowed and +swung daintily up to the dingy <em>Sophie Green</em>. +In her sat William Crooks and his daughter.</p> +<p>“Hello, Joe!” roared the veteran lumberman. +“Hello, Jimmy!” to Captain Congdon. “Throw +down a ladder or something. We want to come +aboard.”</p> +<p>They came aboard, and the very spick-and-span +young man who owned the launch looked +doubtfully at the other young man in the flannel +shirt, short trousers, and spiked boots, who was +on such enviable terms with pretty little Miss +Crooks.</p> +<p>“How’s she comin’?” Crooks demanded, and +Joe told him. “I got twenty boys off my drive +on the way to give you a boost,” the old lumberman +continued. “We’ll show these fellows a +thing or two about sweepin’ up logs. Jimmy, +my girl and I are going to camp down on this old +tub of yours till the last log’s out of the lake. +Got room for us?”</p> +<p>“You bet I have, Bill,” replied Congdon, +“Miss Jack, you take my quarters.”</p> +<p>“Couldn’t think of it, thank you, Captain +Congdon,” said Jack promptly. “I wouldn’t +put you out for the world.”</p> +<p>“Mutiny, by the Lord!” shouted Captain +Jimmy. “Young woman, I’m a bachelor, and +used to having my own way. I get awful mean +and cranky when I’m opposed. It’d be just like +me to refuse to tow a single blame log if you don’t +obey orders.”</p> +<p>“Aye, aye, sir!” said Jack. “Any more orders, +sir?”</p> +<p>“Only that you’re to ask for what you want +if you don’t see it,” said Captain Jimmy, grinning.</p> +<p>The launch shot away down the lake, and the +<em>Sophie</em> continued to gather logs. Night fell. +This time one boat was sufficient to tow all the +day’s take. Jack and Joe sat on the foredeck in the +dusk, listening to the soft lap of water alongside.</p> +<p>“I can’t tell you what I felt when I heard the +drive had broken, Joe,” said she. “It seemed so +safe before, and now—but you’ll make it, +Joe, I know you will!”</p> +<p>“I’ll make it or bust—and that’s no figure of +speech,” he told her grimly. “Those twenty +men your father has lent me will just about turn +the scale. The boys are working like demons—each +man doing the work of two; but it depends +on the weather more than on anything else. A +couple of windy days would knock us cold. However, +there’s no use worrying about that, and all +the weather sharps in the crew, and Congdon as +well, say it has set for fair. To-morrow night +we’ll work by moonlight. I feel a presentiment +amounting to a hunch that you’ll be Mrs. Kent +before another moon.”</p> +<p>She nestled closer to him. “If I were a very +conventional person I’d insist on three months +at least to prepare a trousseau and make sure of +a lot of wedding presents—but I’m not. I’ve +spoken to dad, and he makes your delivery of +these logs the only condition. And now, boy, +it’s time you were asleep. You’re working as +hard as any of the men.”</p> +<p>The floating logs had all been gathered up. +Now the crew attacked those hung in bays and +jettisoned on shoals and points. It was slow, +hard work, but little by little the broken drive +was gathered up. The fine weather held. +Nightly tows went down the lake, and each morning +the empty-booms trailed back for more.</p> +<p>Joe Kent worked with his men. He was +strong, active, and enduring. He developed a +fair amount of skill with a peavey, and he derived +a fierce satisfaction from each log that he twisted +from its resting place and rolled into free water. +By just that much he was beating Garwood, +Ackerman, Clancys—all the gang who, as +principals or tools, had determined to loot his +business and strip him of his inheritance.</p> +<p>His young, sinewy body responded to the calls +made upon it. Wet to the waist he worked all +day and at night until the moon set, cheering +on his crew with laugh and joke. Afterward he +stumbled aboard the <em>Sophie Green</em> almost too +tired to speak, even to Jack; but the first dim +light saw him drop over the side eager for the +new day’s work.</p> +<p>That week Joe lost twenty pounds—and he +was not fleshy to start with. Those days of heartbreaking +work and the nerve-strain back of it +cut lines in his face which were never wholly +erased. It was for him a desperate hand-to-hand +grapple with time. Logs, logs, logs! By +day he worked with them, and by night they +crowded his dreams. He had to lift them, to +climb over them, to count millions of them; sometimes +piles of them cascaded on him, burying +him from the world; sometimes they were about +to fall on Jack. He would wake, a cry of warning +on his lips and the sweat running from every pore +of his iron-hard body.</p> +<p>His men responded nobly to the call. They +held a fierce, jealous pride in their drive, in their +ability to bring it down, in making good any +promise given by their employer. Chronic +grumblers over small things, they accepted cheerfully +the eighteen hours a day of work, and even +stretched it a little. And every minute of every +hour they worked. Each man moved with a +spring and a jump. There were no laggards—none +for the foremen to curse. They took in +Bill Crooks’s chosen twenty and fired them with +the same fierce energy. But this was not a hard +task, for the word passed around somehow that on +their success in getting out the logs depended the +marriage of Kent and Miss Jack. Every man +straightway felt a personal responsibility, and +the way they sailed into the job made Kent’s +crew hustle to keep pace.</p> +<p>Bill Crooks threw off thirty years, put on a +pair of spiked boots, and tramped up and down +the shore bellowing encouragement to the rivermen. +Most of it took the form of virulent curses +directed at the men who had persistently tried +to hang Kent’s drive.</p> +<p>“But they can’t do it, boys!” the old logger +would roar. “They may blow dams and saw +booms, but we’ll do them yet. Birl into her, +bullies! All the blasted high-bankers between +this and the booms of hell can’t hang us up.” +Then the men would bark fierce assent, and +whirl into the logs with fury.</p> +<p>And so, by unremitting work by day and night, +the big drive was swept up from open water, +shoal, point, and bay. On the twenty-eighth of +June, at midnight, the last logs were boomed. +Half an hour afterward the <em>Sophie Green</em>, the +<em>Ada Bell</em>, and the big tug started down the lake +with heavy tows. The boats were full of rivermen, +proud in the consciousness that they had +set a record for the river. Their toil and their +weariness of body were forgotten. Only a few +days separated them from town, where they +would make up for both, according to time-honoured +custom. They shouted songs—expurgated +editions out of deference to Jack Crooks—and +the hoarse cough of the ancient <em>Sophie +Green’s</em> exhaust, delivered at exact intervals, +chopped the verses in two.</p> +<p>Jack and Joe had arranged a little treat. +The cook rustled a wonderful meal. Boxes of +good cigars were passed around. A phonograph +played in the bow of each boat. The trip down +the lake was as good as a moonlight excursion, +and the men of Kent’s drives talk of it yet. One +by one they lay down on the deck, beside the +boilers, anywhere and everywhere, and slept the +sleep of exhaustion.</p> +<p>In the morning they let the tows down the +rapids. The rivermen debarked, followed down +the river, and hustled out the bunches of logs +that the few men who had preceded them had not +bothered about. It was plain sailing now. That +day and the next the channel was brown with +logs. Kent’s foremen and Wismer & Holden’s +cullers checked them as they came. Joe and +Jack stood out on an anchor pier and watched +the booms fill. More logs came down and still +more.</p> +<p>Far away on the morning of the thirtieth they +heard the bellowing whistles of the <em>Sophie Green</em> +and <em>Ada Bell</em>, and the deep-throated blast of the +tug telling them that the last of the big drive was +down. At six o’clock that night the booms +closed behind the last log.</p> +<p>Joe drew a long breath. “Thank heaven,” +said he. “Now, girlie, we’ll have the best meal +they can put up in this little town.”</p> +<p>“We will—but we’ll have it in camp,” she +informed him. “I’ve arranged with Jimmy +Bowes. This is my treat to the men.”</p> +<p>They occupied the head of an impromptu table +of pine boards. Down its length and along +similar tables were ranged the rivermen. Huge +roasts, fowls, vegetables, and stacks of pies were +piled before them, for Jimmy Bowes, having +<em>carte blanche</em> from Jack, had raided the shops of +the town. When the meal was over Haggarty +rose, very red and confused amid low growls of +encouragement:</p> +<p>“Go to it, Larry!”</p> +<p>“What are ye waitin’ for?”</p> +<p>“Shut up an’ listen to him, now!”</p> +<p>“Mr. Kent, an’ Miss Crooks an’ Mister +Crooks,” began Haggarty, and paused. More +growls of encouragement. “I’m no speaker, but +the boys wants me to tell ye something, an’ it’s +this: There’s them that’s had it in for ye these +months past, an’ has done their da—I mean +their dirtiest—to spoil yer cut an’ hang yer +drive. They haven’t done it, an’ for why? +Bekase ye’re good stuff, an’ kept a stiff upper +lip an’ stayed wid the game when others would +have give it up, beaten. There ain’t a man that +ain’t proud to work for ye, an’ we’ll stick by ye, +Mr. Kent, till there’s snowballin’ in—in summer. +That’s what I was to say. An’ besides that, an’ +not wantin’ to be fresh at all, we wish you an’ the +young lady all sorts of luck an’ happiness.”</p> +<p>Haggarty sat down and was pounded on the +back. Joe rose, almost as confused as Haggarty. +“Boys,” said he, “you knew I was in a tight +place and you stayed with me. I’ve got you to +thank that my logs are here to-night, instead of +somewhere upriver. Each man of you has done +the work of a dozen, and I want you to know that +I’m grateful. I can’t pay you in money, but I +want to say that I’m the friend of each man here, +and any time one of you wants anything from me +all he has to do is to ask for it. I hope to +have you all with me next year, and I’ll saw every +log we cut in my own mills. Just one thing +more, and that’s an important one.” He took +Jack’s hand and she rose blushing and laughing +while the men cheered madly. “Miss Crooks +will be Mrs. Kent in a few weeks, boys, and we +ask you all to the wedding.”</p> +<p>The shout that went up startled the little town. +They cheered and pounded the table with hammer-like +fists. Then in the tumult began a cry +which soon grew insistent:</p> +<p>“Cooley, Cooley! Big Bill Cooley!”</p> +<p>“Speech, Bill!”</p> +<p>“Get up on yer hind-legs, ye bully-boy!”</p> +<p>“Tell the boss about it, Bill!”</p> +<p>From the seclusion of the foot of the farthest +table came muffled, shamefaced protest and +muttered profanity. Suddenly half a dozen +pairs of arms heaved the big riverman upon the +long table.</p> +<p>“Heavens, Joe! what has he been doing?” +gasped Jack.</p> +<p>For big Bill Cooley’s face was puffed and cut, +and one eye was quite closed. The other glared +wickedly at those who had thrust him into prominence. +His right hand was bandaged, and the +knuckles of the left resembled a hamburger +steak. Plainly Cooley had been in the wars.</p> +<p>“You fellies make me tired,” he growled. +“Let me down out o’ this!”</p> +<p>“Tell the boss an’ his young lady first,” howled +the crew.</p> +<p>“Go ahead, Cooley,” Joe encouraged him.</p> +<p>“They ain’t nothin’ to tell, Mr. Kent,” said +Cooley. “I only catched Rough Shan McCane +in among the lumber piles this afternoon and +took a birl out of him.”</p> +<p>The crew yelped joyously beneath him.</p> +<p>“He won’t walk for a month!”</p> +<p>“Ye done him up good, Billy-buck!”</p> +<p>“The boots in his face, an’ all!”</p> +<p>“Hooray for dat beeg Bill Cooley, de boss +bully-boy!”</p> +<p>“Dry up, ye divils! How can he hear himself?”</p> +<p>But Cooley made a flying leap from the table, +and nothing could induce him to mount it again. +Joe got details at second hand of the fearful +licking administered to McCane by Cooley, +a combat which had been witnessed by only +half a dozen. In the end the big riverman had +kicked his enemy into unconsciousness with his +spiked boots, according to ancient custom. He +desisted only when it was apparent that the +fallen man’s life hung in the balance. As he +and his fellows looked at it, this was merely +justice, and very light justice at that.</p> +<p>More than half the crew started for town to +drink the health of the young boss and his +bride-to-be. It was a beautiful excuse. Jack and +Joe walked up the river’s bank to take a last look +at the logs. They had little to say, for the +reaction had set in. They stood silently in the +moonlight, gazing at the fields of brown timber +covering the surface of the river, safe down at +last at the cost of a winter’s toil, a spring’s +heartbreaking endeavour, and a toll of human life.</p> +<p>Joe put his arm around the girl’s waist and +drew her to him. Strong and full-throated, +mellowed by distance, came the last refrain of +old Bill Crooks’s favourite river-song as the crew +shouted it on their way to town.</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line">“When the drive comes dow-un, when the jam comes down,</div> +<div class="line">What makes yeez lads so wishful-eyed as we draw near to town?</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line">Other eyes is soft an’ bright, like the stars of a June night—</div> +</div> +<div class="line">Wives an’ sweethearts—prayin’, waitin’—as we drive the river down.</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line">(Oh, ye divils!)</div> +</div> +<div class="line">God bless the eyes that shine for us when we boil into town.”</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p>“God bless <em>your</em> eyes, Jack, dear!” said Joe +softly, and kissed her. The future lay clear and +fair before them, a-flush with the rosy lights of +youth and hope.</p> +</div> +<div class="section" id="xxii"> +<h2 class="title section-title level-2">XXII</h2> +<p>By the terms of Joe’s contract with +Wismer & Holden, these astute millmen +had agreed to pay cash for the logs on +delivery. Joe held them to this, refusing +acceptances at thirty and sixty days. He was thus +at once in a position to reduce his liabilities and +sustain his credit, which had been seriously +strained, with his own bank.</p> +<p>His mill was running at capacity. All day the +air was vibrant with the hum of it, the thunder +of the log carriages, the deep raucous drone of the +big saws, the higher pitched voices of the smaller. +All day a stream of shaggy, brown logs, prodded +by pike poles, was swept upward in dripping +procession on an endless chain, tossed on iron +beds, flung against the saws, rolled on carriers +as rough boards to other saws—to edgers, trimmers +and planers—and disgorged from the +farther end of the mill in a dozen grades of product +to be carried to the piling yards and drying sheds. +Day and night the smoke from burning sawdust +in the huge, stack-like consumer poured upward +to the sky.</p> +<p>Thus the producing end of his business was +satisfactory. Not less so were the sales. In +addition to a particularly brisk local demand, +Wright’s activities had resulted in some excellent +contracts not only for immediate, but for future +delivery. There would be no lack of a market +for every foot the mill could turn out. Also +there was no car shortage. The tacit agreement +which Locke had been able to obtain as part of +the price of withdrawing his action was being +held to rigidly. The firm could sell all its mills +could cut and deliver all it could sell. Naturally +Wright and Joe were pleased and congratulated +each other upon the rosy outlook.</p> +<p>“It looks as if we were over the hump,” said +Joe one afternoon. “Those are good contracts +you landed. I want to show you that I appreciate +all you have done. Left to myself I’d have been +as helpless as a baby in this business.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I don’t know,” said Wright. “You pick +up things pretty fast. I’ve been paid for whatever +I’ve done. But apart from that I’ve been with +this concern a good many years and your father +always treated me well. Funny if I wouldn’t do +all I could for you. You’ve come pretty near +making good so far. You made the big cut that +your father planned to make and you brought the +logs down. That’s all he could have done, and I +tell you not even Crooks knows the logging business +better than he did. So far as showing your +appreciation goes it isn’t necessary—or, anyway, +that can wait till you are in better shape. I’m +not shouting for money the minute I see your +head above water.”</p> +<p>“I know you’re not, but at the end of the year +we’ll fix things up on a better basis,” said Joe.</p> +<p>While Joe was occupied with his business, Jack +was busy, too. Mysterious packages were constantly +arriving at Bill Crooks’s home. As the +wedding day drew near the patter of these became +a downpour. Jack’s friends gave luncheons in +her honour, and she was “showered” with articles +of alleged usefulness or ornament.</p> +<p>She and Joe, sitting chatting one night in her +den, heard the heavy, decided tread of the old +lumber baron in the darkened hall. Suddenly +there was a stumble, a wrathful bellow, and Bill +Crooks’s voice raised in insistent demand for +the name of the thus-and-so-forth wretch who +left boxes in the hall, mingled with a prophecy as +to his ultimate fate.</p> +<p>“What kind of ‘fire’ and ‘nation’ were you +speaking of, dad?” asked Jack as he appeared in +the door.</p> +<p>“Never mind,” growled Crooks, who was under +the impression that his remarks had been sotto +voce. “This house is being cluttered up with a +bunch of junk. I’ve peeled a six-inch strip of hide +clean off my shin. Who left that box out there?”</p> +<p>“I think you did.”</p> +<p>“Hey?”</p> +<p>“I think you did. You took it from the expressman.”</p> +<p>“Huh?” snorted Crooks. “If I did I didn’t +leave it in the middle of the hall. I put it out of +the way behind the hatrack. Somebody moved it +out. That’s only one thing. There’s a hundred +others. You’ve got enough truck to start a +china shop or a jewellery store or a whitewear +sale!”</p> +<p>“I don’t get married every summer,” his +daughter returned placidly. “We have to have +things. And then our friends are good to us. I +know one darling old grouch who gave me a big +cheque. Remember what he told me to do with +it?”</p> +<p>“I didn’t need to tell you. You can get away +with a cheque without instructions. Never knew +a woman who couldn’t.”</p> +<p>“You told me to ‘blow it’ on myself—not to +put a dollar of it into house furnishings.”</p> +<p>“Suppose I did! You don’t need house furnishings. +There’s two houses ready furnished for +you—this one and Kent’s. How many blamed +houses do you want to live in, anyway?”</p> +<p>“Oh, Heavens, Joe, give him a cigar!” exclaimed +Jack at the end of her patience. “He’s going to +be an awful crank of a father-in-law.”</p> +<p>Crooks took Joe’s cigar and dropped into a +chair, while Jack departed in search of refreshment; +men being, as she declared, invariably +hungry when they were not thirsty.</p> +<p>“I’ve been thinking, Joe,” said the old lumberman, +“quite a bit about my business lately.”</p> +<p>“Why, what’s the matter with it?” asked Joe +in surprise, for Crooks’s business, like his own, +had been very good indeed.</p> +<p>“Nothing’s the matter with it,” Crooks replied. +“It’s good—it’s too good. I’ve run it for a +long time, and now it’s beginning to run me.”</p> +<p>“I don’t quite understand.”</p> +<p>“It’s this way,” Crooks explained: “I’m +getting on, and outside of Jack I’ve nobody. +Now you’re going to marry her. It had to be +somebody, I suppose, and I’m glad it’s you. Still, +there’s the business. It’s mine, I made it and I +like it—but it’s beginning to drive me too much. +I can’t go away for a month or a week without +being afraid things will be tied up in hard knots +before I get back. If I had a man as good as +Wright it might be different, but I haven’t. I +have to be on the job myself all the time, and I’m +getting too old for that. I want to take it easy a +little and get the most out of the years that are +left me.”</p> +<p>“I see,” said Joe as Crooks paused.</p> +<p>“You’ll know better how it is yourself thirty +years from now,” Crooks continued. “I’ve nobody +but Jack. If the boys had lived they’d +have been able to run the business and let me sit +back and just give them a hand now and then. +But they died.” He was silent for a long moment. +“I’ll tell you something, Joe, you were the one +thing I envied your father. I saw you growing +up, a good, clean, healthy young fellow, with no +bad habits to speak of—oh, I don’t mean that +you were any saint; I suppose you kicked up once +in a while, same as any healthy young colt, but +there was nothing vicious about you—and it +seemed hard luck that out of my three boys one +wasn’t left me. Well, never mind that. Now all +I’ve got will be Jack’s when I get my time. And +so I was thinking of making you a little proposition.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Joe wondering what this was leading +up to. “What is it, Mr. Crooks?”</p> +<p>“I was wondering,” Crooks pursued, “whether +you’d care to combine our businesses?”</p> +<p>Joe was thoughtful for a moment. His eyes +narrowed a little, and his brows drew down +in a slight frown. He looked at Crooks steadily. +The old lumberman returned his gaze.</p> +<p>“Is there anything behind this, sir?” Joe +asked.</p> +<p>“Behind it—how? You don’t think I’m +putting up a job to freeze you out, do you?”</p> +<p>“No, not that. But are you making this proposition +for Jack’s sake? I mean, do you think +I’d make a mess of my business if I ran it alone? +Because if that’s really the reason I’d like to show +you.”</p> +<p>“If I thought you couldn’t run your own business +I wouldn’t want your help to run mine,” +Crooks replied. “Mind you, I consider myself +able to give you a few pointers. You’ve a lot +to learn, but you’re one of the young fellows who +will learn. Some can’t; others won’t. I’d hate +to see Jack marry a man I didn’t think would +make good. I’d tell him so mighty quick. No, +I gave you my real reason.”</p> +<p>“It’s a good proposition for me, Mr. Crooks,” +said Joe. “I’m for it, if we can arrange details. +Were you thinking of forming a company?”</p> +<p>“No, I wasn’t,” said Crooks. “I don’t like +companies—too much shenanigan about stock +and directors and meetings. A company can’t +do a blamed thing without seeing a lawyer first. +I own one business which will be Jack’s and yours +some day, and you own another. We just make +a little ’greement to run ’em together and divide +the profits; and we arrange who’s to do what +work—and there you are. Any time things don’t +run to suit us we split the blanket. If we tell Locke +what we want he’ll put it in shape in half an hour.”</p> +<p>“I’ll do it,” Joe agreed; “but I feel that I’m +getting the best of the bargain in your experience.”</p> +<p>“My experience is all right,” said Crooks, “but +I can’t hustle like I used to—or else I won’t. +You will, and I’ll be able to tell you how. That +makes it an even break. And then you’ve got +Wright. I’ve wanted him or some one like him +for years.”</p> +<p>“I feel that I owe Wright a good deal,” said +Joe. “He has really run the business end of the +concern. I was thinking of giving him a share in it. +Seems to me something like that is coming to him.”</p> +<p>“I’m glad to hear you say so. We’ll take him +in with us and give him an interest.”</p> +<p>“I want it to come out of my share.”</p> +<p>“No. He’s going to work for me as much as +for you. Wright is a part of your equipment and a +big asset. Whatever interest he gets must come out +of the whole business and not out of one end of it.”</p> +<p>They took their proposition in the rough to +Locke, and that experienced adjuster of other +men’s perplexities proceeded to hammer it into +working shape, finally producing an agreement, +clear, concise and satisfactory. Thus the lumber +firm of Crooks & Kent was born.</p> +<p>A couple of days before the wedding, certain +quarters of the town—and also those charged +with the duty of enforcing a fair imitation of law +and order therein—began to notice a sudden +influx of strangers. They were for the most part +big and very brown, and they walked with a +truculent swagger and regarded the world through +humorously insolent eyes. Also they held together +clannishly, and for the most part—to the relief +of the authorities—maintained themselves in a +condition of near sobriety.</p> +<p>“For if ye get too full,” big Cooley explained to +the bibulously inclined Chartrand, “ye miss the +weddin’. An’ it’s not the likes of you is axed to +one every day.”</p> +<p>“I’ll be mos’ awful dry, me!” Chartrand complained. +He hailed little Narcisse Laviolette. +“<em>Hola</em>, Narcisse, <em>mon vieux!</em> Come on, tak’ +leetle drink wit’ me. Come on, you beeg Cooley. +We don’t get dronk—<em>pas du tout</em>. We jus’ feex +ourself so we lak for sing leetle <em>chanson</em>.”</p> +<p>He hammered the bar with the heavy-bottomed +little glass constructed in the interests of the house +to hold one man’s size drink and no more, and +burst into alleged melody:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line">“Dat square-face-gin, she’ll be ver’ fine,</div> +<div class="line">Some feller lak dat champagne wine—</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line">But de bes’ dam’ drink w’hat I never saw</div> +<div class="line">Come out of a bottle of <em>whiskey blanc</em>.</div> +</div> +<div class="line">(O listen to me now, while I’ll tol’ you how!)</div> +<div class="line">Dere was Joe Leduc an’ me, Larry Frost an’ Savigny,</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line">Chevrier an’ Prevost, Jimmy Judge an’ Larribee,</div> +</div> +<div class="line">Lamontagne an’ Lajeunesse—mebbe fifty mans, I guess;</div> +<div class="line">You would know de whole kaboodle if I ain’t forget de res’.</div> +<div class="line">We was drive upon dat reever an’ we ron heem down <em>les Chats</em>,</div> +<div class="line">An’ den we hit dat Quyon where we buy dat <em>whiskey blanc</em>!“</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p>“Yell her out, <em>mes amis!</em> Bus’ dat roof!”</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line">“Hooraw! hooraw! <em>pour le</em> good ol’ <em>whiskey blanc</em>!</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line">She’s gran’ for mak love on, she’s bully for fight,</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line">She’ll keep out dat col’, an’——”</div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p>“Shut up!” roared Cooley. “Now you listen +here—you ain’t goin’ to show up drunk at the +boss’s weddin’, puttin’ the whole crew on the hog. +Savvy? You’re three parts full now. I’ll sober +ye, me buck, if it’s wid me feet in yer face!”</p> +<p>And the threat of Cooley, combined with the +eloquent profanity of a self-constituted temperance +committee, caused Chartrand to postpone +his celebration. It was Cooley also who constituted +himself an authority on social usage.</p> +<p>“Bein’ asked to this weddin’,” said he, “the +c’rect thing is to put up a present.”</p> +<p>“Sure!”</p> +<p>“That’s right, Cooley.”</p> +<p>“You bet!”</p> +<p>“We’ll do it right while we’re about it,” said +the big man. “Here’s ten dollars in me hat. +Sweeten as she goes ’round, boys. Let’s buy the +boss an’ his girl somethin’ good—somethin’ +they won’t be ashamed to keep in the front room +an’ tell their friends it come from the boys of +Kent’s big drive!”</p> +<p>An hour later the proprietor of Falls City’s +leading jewelry store was somewhat startled by +an invasion of half a dozen weather-beaten, +rough-looking customers quite different from his +ordinary patrons; and he nearly fainted when the +spokesman told him that they were in search of a +wedding present on which they were prepared to +expend between three and four hundred dollars.</p> +<p>In the end they chose a cabinet filled with silver, +eying respectfully the dainty knives, forks, and +spoons, and other articles of whose use they had +small conception.</p> +<p>“We want a name plate put on her,” said +Cooley, “showing a lad in river clothes standin’ on +a log wid a peavey in his fist; an’ above that we +want the date; an’ underneath it, ‘From Kent’s +River Crew.’”</p> +<p>It is safe to say that never had the church, to +whose support old Bill Crooks contributed more +often than he attended it, held as motley a gathering +as on the morning of the wedding of his daughter +and Joe Kent. Big, brown men, painfully +shaven, in aggressively new garments which +cramped their strong muscles and rendered them +awkward and ill at ease, occupied seats beside the +members of Falls City’s leading families, who +eyed the intruders askance. And here and there, +also ill at ease, were old men and women, dependents +of William Crooks and friends of his daughter, +whom they loved.</p> +<p>Joe and his best man entered from the vestry; +but there was a slight delay. They stood before +the chancel waiting for the bride and her father.</p> +<p>“The boss is nervous,” Cooley commented +to Haggarty in a low whisper. “Look at him +shift on his feet. An’ see the ears of him. Red!”</p> +<p>“Small blame to him,” Haggarty responded +sympathetically. “I’ll bet he’d rather be swappin’ +punches wid a man twice his own weight.”</p> +<p>But Jack entered on her father’s arm—a +dainty, queenly Jack, clad in bride-white, her eyes +demurely downcast but the small head with the +crown of glossy brown hair carried as proudly as +ever.</p> +<p>“An’ I used to give her lumps out of the sugar +bar’l!” said Jimmy Bowes, the fat old bull-cook, +in sentimental reminiscence.</p> +<p>“Purty as a little red wagon,” said Haggarty +with approval.</p> +<p>“Mo’ Gee! I leave home for dat myself!” +commented little Narcisse Laviolette, who possessed +a wife of double his own fighting weight +and offspring of about the same combined avoirdupois. +And Cooley, who overheard this tribute +from the little teamster, took offence thereat.</p> +<p>“Shut up, ye blasted little pea-soup!” he +growled. “She’s the boss’s wife—or as good as. +You remember that, and don’t try to be funny!”</p> +<p>“Who’s try for be fonnee?” demanded Laviolette +with indignation at this unjust interpretation +of his well-meant speech. “You give me de swif’ +pain, you. Sacré dam! Some tam, bagosh, I +ponch your beeg Irish mug!”</p> +<p>“Sh!” rumbled Haggarty. “Can’t ye quit +yer dam’ swearin’ in a church? Shut up, the +both of ye!”</p> +<p>The ceremony, which was rapidly changing Jack +Crooks into Mrs. Joe Kent, proceeded, finished. +Kisses were showered on her, handshakes and +slaps on the back on Joe. In the midst of these +the latter caught sight of a group of weather-tanned +faces in the centre of the church. Their +owners were standing uncertainly, diffident, not +caring to mingle with the more fashionably clad +throng that clustered about the principals. Joe +turned to his bride.</p> +<p>“There’s Cooley and Haggarty and a bunch of +the boys of my river crew, Jack,” he said. “They +want to wish us luck, and they’re too bashful to +mix. Come on down and shake hands.”</p> +<p>“Of course,” said Jack.</p> +<p>With his bride on his arm Joe went down the +aisle to the men of his drive, to have his right +hand almost permanently disabled in the grips he +received; but the pressure of the big hands that +closed bashfully around Jack’s slim fingers would +not have crushed a butterfly. “Wishin’ ye good +luck an’ happiness, ma’am,” was the formula, +but little varied.</p> +<p>Into the midst of them came old Bill Crooks. +“Come on, boys!” he exclaimed. “There’s a +wedding spread up at my house, and I want every +man of you there to drink good luck to the bride—and +to the new firm of Crooks & Kent. No +holding back, now. Come along, everybody!”</p> +<p>They came along, though most of them would +have preferred to go down a bad piece of water on +a single stick of pine, and their coming taxed the +space of Crooks’s dining-room—to say nothing +of the commissariat and canteen—to the limit. +They ate and drank solemnly, on their best behaviour +and conscious of it, sipping the unaccustomed +wines with reserved judgment.</p> +<p>“What’ll be a dose of this?” whispered Regan, +eying his champagne glass with suspicion. “The +waitin’ gyurls fill it up whenever I empty it. +This makes five I’ve had and I can’t feel it yet. +Belike it acts suddint. I wouldn’t want to get +full here.”</p> +<p>“Nor me,” Cooley agreed. “They’re all +drinkin’ it, an’ none the worse. If they can stand +it we can.” He gulped down half a glass and thrust +his tongue back and forth experimentally. “Champagne, +hey? It has a puckery taste till it, but +no rasp. It might be hard cider wid more fizz. +There’s no harm in it. I cud drink enough of it +to float a log. Here’s some lad speakin’. Listen +to what he says.”</p> +<p>They heard the health of the bride proposed in +customary language; Joe’s reply, embarrassed, +jerky, brief.</p> +<p>“Speaking isn’t Kent’s strong point,” a guest +commented. Cooley glowered at him, resentful +of the just criticism.</p> +<p>“He can talk when he has anything to say, and +he can curse <em>fine</em>!” he affirmed. He led vociferous +cheers as Joe sat down, and cheered almost +equally hard when Crooks concluded five minutes +of pointed remarks in which he announced the +formation of the new firm.</p> +<p>But these cheers were as nothing to the leather-lunged +roars that bade Jack and Joe farewell as +they stepped into the carriage. With the cheers +came showers of rice. Joe turned up his coat +collar; but Jack laughed back through the fusillade +of it, blowing kisses to her father, her girl +friends, and the rivermen, impartially. And the +memory of them stayed with the rough shantymen +for years.</p> +<p>The train which bore Joe and his bride on their +wedding journey clanked slowly through the yards +following the line of the river. As it looped around +a curve they could see, looking backward from the +rear platform of the last coach which they had +to themselves, the mills of Bill Crooks and of Joe +Kent each flying a flag from the topmost point, +the silver of the flowing water checkered with the +black lines of the long booms and the herds of +brown logs inside them. In the mills not a wheel +turned that day. But steam was in the boilers, +for as they looked it poured white from the roofs +of the engine houses and the bellowing howls of +two fire sirens bade them a joyous farewell.</p> +<p>Jack slipped her hand in Joe’s.</p> +<p>“Are you glad?”</p> +<p>“Glad it’s over? You bet I am!”</p> +<p>“No—glad we’re married?”</p> +<p>“That’s a nice question. And you know the +answer.”</p> +<p>“Of course I do,” she admitted happily. “I +suppose a wedding trip is a fine thing. Anyway, +it’s conventional. But—I’ll be glad to come +back home.”</p> +<p>“Same here,” he agreed. “There’s lot to be +done—a holy lot. I have to get right down to +work. I want to take all the weight I can off +your father’s shoulders. That’s up to me. Then, +when you come to running two mills under one +management, there must be all sorts of economies +possible, if a fellow could only find out what they +are. I don’t want to let Wright do all the finding +out for me. Yes, I’ll be pretty busy.”</p> +<p>“Well, you like the work. That’s the main +thing.”</p> +<p>“That’s so,” he admitted. “I like it better all +the time. I never knew what real fun was till I +had to hustle for myself. A year ago I was no +better than a big kid. I could feed myself and +dress myself if somebody handed me the price, +and that just about let me out. And at that I +thought I was having a good time. A good time? +Huh! Why, I didn’t know I was alive. Oh, +well ... we’ll cut out business on this trip—not +talk of it or think of it at all. Shall we?”</p> +<p>“No—o. I like to talk about it. It makes me +think I’m helping. If I were a man——”</p> +<p>“I’m mighty glad you’re not. Remember the +time you wished you were a boy?”</p> +<p>“That was before——”</p> +<p>“Before what?”</p> +<p>“You know very well. Before I knew you +thought anything of me.”</p> +<p>“You are absolutely the best little girl in the +world,” he said with conviction. “I always loved +you, Jack—ever since we were kids—only I +didn’t know it.”</p> +<p>She gave his arm a quick little understanding +hug, with a new womanly pride in the hard, swelling +muscles that met the pressure. They stood +close together, watching the last silvery reach of +the river, burnished, mirror-like, lustrous beneath +the sloping afternoon sun. They had been born +beside it; as children they had played on it, in it; +and they loved it as a part of their lives. It was +a treasure stream, bearing to them year after +year the loot of the northern forests—the great, +brown sticks of pine. Changeless and yet ever +changing it never failed to charm. Ages old but +ever young it held its children in the spell of its +eternal life. And so as it vanished, shut out by a +landscape that seemed to rush backward as the +train gathered speed, their eyes and their thoughts +clung to it; for by the river and with the pine their +lifework lay.</p> +<p class='align-center'>THE END</p> +<hr class="docutils"/> +<p class='bold'>LOUIS TRACY’S CAPTIVATING AND EXHILARATING ROMANCES</p> +<p>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.</p> +<p>CYNTHIA’S CHAUFFEUR. Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy.</p> +<p>A pretty American girl in London is touring in a car with a chauffeur +whose identity puzzles her. An amusing mystery.</p> +<p>THE STOWAWAY GIRL. Illustrated by Nesbitt Benson.</p> +<p>A shipwreck, a lovely girl stowaway, a rascally captain, a fascinating +officer, and thrilling adventures in South Seas.</p> +<p>THE CAPTAIN OF THE KANSAS.</p> +<p>Love and the salt sea, a helpless ship whirled into the hands of +cannibals, desperate fighting and a tender romance.</p> +<p>THE MESSAGE. Illustrated by Joseph Cummings Chase.</p> +<p>A bit of parchment found in the figurehead of an old vessel tells of a +buried treasure. A thrilling mystery develops.</p> +<p>THE PILLAR OF LIGHT.</p> +<p>The pillar thus designated was a lighthouse, and the author tells with +exciting detail the terrible dilemma of its cut-off inhabitants.</p> +<p>THE WHEEL O’FORTUNE. With illustrations by James Montgomery Flagg.</p> +<p>The story deals with the finding of a papyrus containing the particulars +of some of the treasures of the Queen of Sheba.</p> +<p>A SON OF THE IMMORTALS. Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy.</p> +<p>A young American is proclaimed king of a little Balkan Kingdom, and a +pretty Parisian art student is the power behind the throne.</p> +<p>THE WINGS OF THE MORNING.</p> +<p>A sort of Robinson Crusoe <em>redivivus</em> with modern setting, and a very +pretty love story added. The hero and heroine are the only survivors of +a wreck, and have many thrilling adventures on their desert island.</p> +<p>Ask for complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction</p> +<p>GROSSET & DUNLAP, 526 WEST 26TH ST., NEW YORK</p> +<hr class="docutils"/> +<p class='bold'>TITLES SELECTED FROM GROSSET & DUNLAP’S LIST</p> +<p>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list</p> +<p>HIS HOUR. By Elinor Glyn. Illustrated.</p> +<p>A beautiful blonde Englishwoman visits Russia, and is violently +made love to by a young Russian aristocrat. A most unique +situation complicates the romance.</p> +<p>THE GAMBLERS. By Charles Klein and Arthur Hornblow.</p> +<p>Illustrated by C. E. Chambers.</p> +<p>A big, vital treatment of a present day situation wherein men +play for big financial stakes and women flourish on the profits—or +repudiate the methods.</p> +<p>CHEERFUL AMERICANS. By Charles Battell Loomis.</p> +<p>Illustrated by Florence Scovel Shinn and others.</p> +<p>A good, wholesome, laughable presentation of some Americans +rat home and abroad, on their vacations, and during their hours of +relaxation.</p> +<p>THE WOMAN OF THE WORLD. By Ella Wheeler Wilcox.</p> +<p>Clever, original presentations of present day social problems +and the best solutions of them. A book every girl and woman +should possess.</p> +<p>THE LIGHT THAT LURES. By Percy Brehner.</p> +<p>Illustrated. Handsomely colored wrapper.</p> +<p>A young Southerner who loved Lafayette, goes to France to +aid him during the days of terror, and is lured in a certain direction +by the lovely eyes of a Frenchwoman.</p> +<p>THE RAMRODDERS. By Holman Day. Frontispiece by Harold Matthews Brett.</p> +<p>A clever, timely story that will make politicians think and will +make women realize the part that politics play—even in their +romances.</p> +<p>Ask for complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction</p> +<p>GROSSET & DUNLAP, 526 WEST 26TH ST., NEW YORK</p> +<hr class="docutils"/> +<p class='bold'>GROSSET & DUNLAP’S DRAMATIZED NOVELS</p> +<p>Original, sincere and courageous—often amusing—the kind that are +making theatrical history.</p> +<p>MADAME X. By Alexandre Bisson and J. W. McConaughy. Illustrated with +scenes from the play.</p> +<p>A beautiful Parisienne became an outcast because her husband would not +forgive an error of her youth. Her love for her son is the great final +influence in her career. A tremendous dramatic success.</p> +<p>THE GARDEN OF ALLAH. By Robert Hichens.</p> +<p>An unconventional English woman and an inscrutable stranger meet and +love in an oasis of the Sahara. Staged this season with magnificent cast +and gorgeous properties.</p> +<p>THE PRINCE OF INDIA. By Lew Wallace.</p> +<p>A glowing romance of the Byzantine Empire, presenting with extraordinary +power the siege of Constantinople, and lighting its tragedy with the +warm underglow of an Oriental romance. As a play it is a great dramatic +spectacle.</p> +<p>TESS OF THE STORM COUNTRY. By Grace Miller White. Illust. by Howard +Chandler Christy.</p> +<p>A girl from the dregs of society, loves a young Cornell University +student, and it works startling changes in her life and the lives of +those about her. The dramatic version is one of the sensations of the +season.</p> +<p>YOUNG WALLINGFORD. By George Randolph Chester. Illust. by F. R. Gruger +and Henry Raleigh.</p> +<p>A series of clever swindles conducted by a cheerful young man, each of +which is just on the safe side of a State’s prison offence. As +“Get-Rich-Quick Wallingford,” it is probably the most amusing expose of +money manipulation ever seen on the stage.</p> +<p>THE INTRUSION OF JIMMY. By P. G. Wodehouse. Illustrations by Will Grefe.</p> +<p>Social and club life in London and New York, an amateur burglary +adventure and a love story. Dramatized under the title of “A Gentleman +of Leisure,” it furnishes hours of laughter to the play-goers.</p> +<p>GROSSET & DUNLAP, 526 WEST 26TH ST., NEW YORK</p> +<hr class="docutils"/> +<p class='bold'>TITLES SELECTED FROM GROSSET & DUNLAP’S LIST</p> +<p>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list</p> +<p>A CERTAIN RICH MAN. By William Allen White.</p> +<p>A vivid, startling portrayal of one man’s financial greed, its wide +spreading power, its action in Wall Street, and its effect on the three +women most intimately in his life. A splendid, entertaining American +novel.</p> +<p>IN OUR TOWN. By William Allen White. Illustrated by F. R. Gruger and W. Glackens.</p> +<p>Made up of the observations of a keen newspaper editor, involving the town +millionaire, the smart set, the literary set, the bohemian set, and many +others. All humorously related and sure to hold the attention.</p> +<p>NATHAN BURKE. By Mary S. Watts.</p> +<p>The story of an ambitious, backwoods Ohio boy who rose to prominence. +Everyday humor of American rustic life permeates the book.</p> +<p>THE HIGH HAND. By Jacques Futrelle. Illustrated by Will Grefe.</p> +<p>A splendid story of the political game, with a son of the soil on the one +side, and a “kid glove” politician on the other. A pretty girl, interested +in both men, is the chief figure.</p> +<p>THE BACKWOODSMEN. By Charles G. D. Roberts. Illustrated.</p> +<p>Realistic stories of men and women living midst the savage beauty of the +wilderness. Human nature at its best and worst is well portrayed.</p> +<p>YELLOWSTONE NIGHTS. By Herbert Quick.</p> +<p>A jolly company of six artists, writers and other clever folks take a trip +through the National Park, and tell stories around camp fire at night. +Brilliantly clever and original.</p> +<p>THE PROFESSOR’S MYSTERY. By Wells Hastings and Brian Hooker.</p> +<p>Illustrated by Hanson Booth.</p> +<p>A young college professor, missing his steamer for Europe, has a romantic +meeting with a pretty girl, escorts her home, and is enveloped in a big +mystery.</p> +<p>Ask for complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction</p> +<p>GROSSET & DUNLAP, 526 WEST 26th ST., NEW YORK</p> +<hr class="docutils"/> +<p class='bold'>TITLES SELECTED FROM GROSSET & DUNLAP’S LIST</p> +<p>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list</p> +<p>THE SIEGE OF THE SEVEN SUITORS. By Meredith Nicholson.</p> +<p>Illustrated by C. Coles Phillips and Reginald Birch.</p> +<p>Seven suitors vie with each other for the love of a beautiful +girl, and she subjects them to a test that is full of mystery, magic +and sheer amusement.</p> +<p>THE MAGNET. By Henry C. Rowland. Illustrated by Clarence F. Underwood.</p> +<p>The story of a remarkable courtship involving three pretty +girls on a yacht, a poet-lover in pursuit, and a mix-up in the names +of the girls.</p> +<p>THE TURN OF THE ROAD. By Eugenia Brooks Frothingham.</p> +<p>A beautiful young opera singer chooses professional success +instead of love, but comes to a place in life where the call of the +heart is stronger than worldly success.</p> +<p>SCOTTIE AND HIS LADY. By Margaret Morse. Illustrated by Harold M. Brett.</p> +<p>A young girl whose affections have been blighted is presented +with a Scotch Collie to divert her mind, and the roving adventures +of her pet lead the young mistress into another romance.</p> +<p>SHEILA VEDDER. By Amelia E. Barr. Frontispiece by Harrison Fisher.</p> +<p>A very beautiful romance of the Shetland Islands, with a +handsome, strong willed hero and a lovely girl of Gaelic blood as +heroine. A sequel to “Jan Vedder’s Wife.”</p> +<p>JOHN WARD. PREACHER. By Margaret Deland.</p> +<p>The first big success of this much loved American novelist. +It is a powerful portrayal of a young clergyman’s attempt to win his +beautiful wife to his own narrow creed.</p> +<p>THE TRAIL OF NINETY-EIGHT. By Robert W. Service.</p> +<p>Illustrated by Maynard Dixon.</p> +<p>One of the best stories of “Vagabondia” ever written, and +one of the most accurate and picturesque of the stampede of gold +seekers to the Yukon. The love story embedded in the narrative +is strikingly original.</p> +<p>Ask for complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction</p> +<p>GROSSET & DUNLAP, 526 WEST 26TH ST., NEW YORK</p> +<hr class="docutils"/> +<p class='bold'>THE NOVELS OF WINSTON CHURCHILL</p> +<p>Skillful in plot, dramatic in episode, powerful and original in climax.</p> +<p>MR. CREWE’S CAREER. Illus. by A. I. Keller and Kinneys.</p> +<p>A New England state is under the political domination +of a railway and Mr. Crewe, a millionaire, seizes the moment +when the cause of the people against corporation greed is +being espoused by an ardent young attorney, to further his +own interest in a political way, by taking up this cause.</p> +<p>The daughter of the railway president, with the sunny +humor and shrewd common sense of the New England girl, +plays no small part in the situation as well as in the life of the +young attorney who stands so unflinchingly for clean politics.</p> +<p>THE CROSSING. Illus. by S. Adamson and L. Baylis.</p> +<p>Describing the battle of Fort Moultrie and the British +fleet in the harbor of Charleston, the blazing of the Kentucky +wilderness, the expedition of Clark and his handful of dauntless +followers in Illinois, the beginning of civilization along +the Ohio and Mississippi, and the treasonable schemes builded +against Washington and the Federal Government.</p> +<p>CONISTON. Illustrated by Florence Scovel Shinn.</p> +<p>A deft blending of love and politics distinguishes this +book. The author has taken for his hero a New Englander, +a crude man of the tannery, who rose to political prominence +by his own powers, and then surrendered all for the love of a +woman.</p> +<p>It is a sermon on civic righteousness, and a love story of a +deep motive.</p> +<p>THE CELEBRITY. An Episode.</p> +<p>An inimitable bit of comedy describing an interchange of +personalities between a celebrated author and a bicycle salesman +of the most blatant type. The story is adorned with +some character sketches more living than pen work. It is the +purest, keenest fun—no such piece of humor has appeared for +years: it is American to the core.</p> +<p>THE CRISIS. Illus. by Howard Chandler Christie.</p> +<p>A book that presents the great crisis in our national life +with splendid power and with a sympathy, a sincerity, and a +patriotism that are inspiring. The several scenes in the book +in which Abraham Lincoln figures must be read in their entirety +for they give a picture of that great, magnetic, lovable +man, which has been drawn with evident affection and exceptional success.</p> +<p>GROSSET & DUNLAP, 526 WEST 26TH ST., NEW YORK</p> +<hr class="docutils"/> +<p class='bold'>TITLES SELECTED FROM GROSSET & DUNLAP’S LIST</p> +<p>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list</p> +<p>THE SILENT CALL. by Edwin Milton Royle. Illustrated with scenes from the play.</p> +<p>The hero of this story is the Squaw Man’s son. He has +been taken to England, but spurns conventional life for the sake +of the untamed West and a girl’s pretty face.</p> +<p>JOHN MARCH, SOUTHERNER. By George W. Cable.</p> +<p>A story of the pretty women and spirited men of the South. +As fragrant in sentiment as a sprig of magnolia, and as full of +mystery and racial troubles as any romance of “after the war” +days.</p> +<p>MR. JUSTICE RAFFLES. By E. W. Hornung.</p> +<p>This engaging rascal is found helping a young cricket player +out of the toils of a money shark. Novel in plot, thrilling and +amusing.</p> +<p>FORTY MINUTES LATE. By F. Hopkinson Smith. Illustrated by S. M. Chase.</p> +<p>Delightfully human stories of every day happenings; of a +lecturer’s laughable experience because he’s late, a young woman’s +excursion into the stock market, etc.</p> +<p>OLD LADY NUMBER 31. By Louise Forsslund.</p> +<p>A heart-warming story of American rural life, telling of the +adventures of an old couple in an old folk’s home, their sunny, +philosophical acceptance of misfortune and ultimate prosperity.</p> +<p>THE HUSBAND’S STORY. By David Graham Phillips.</p> +<p>A story that has given all Europe as well as all America much +food for thought. A young couple begin life in humble circumstances +and rise in worldly matters until the husband is enormously +rich—the wife in the most aristocratic European society—but at the +price of their happiness.</p> +<p>THE TRAIL OF NINETY-EIGHT. By Robert W. Service.</p> +<p>Illustrated by Maynard Dixon.</p> +<p>One of the best stories of “Vagabondia” ever written, and +one of the most accurate and picturesque descriptions of the stampede +of gold seekers to the Yukon. The love story embedded in +the narrative is strikingly original.</p> +<p>Ask for complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction</p> +<p>GROSSET & DUNLAP, 526 WEST 26th ST., NEW YORK</p> +<hr class="docutils"/> +<p class='bold'>TITLES SELECTED FROM GROSSET & DUNLAP’S LIST</p> +<p>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.</p> +<p>THE SECOND WIFE. By Thompson Buchanan.</p> +<p>Illustrated by W. W. Fawcett. Harrison Fisher wrapper printed in four +colors and gold.</p> +<p>An intensely interesting story of a marital complication in +a wealthy New York family involving the happiness of a +beautiful young girl.</p> +<p>TESS OF THE STORM COUNTRY. By Grace Miller White.</p> +<p>Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy.</p> +<p>An amazingly vivid picture of low class life in a New York +college town, with a heroine beautiful and noble, who makes +a great sacrifice for love.</p> +<p>FROM THE VALLEY OF THE MISSING. By Graces Miller White. +Frontispiece and wrapper in colors by Penrhyn Stanlaws.</p> +<p>Another story of “the storm country.” Two beautiful children +are kidnapped from a wealthy home and appear many years +after showing the effects of a deep, malicious scheme behind +their disappearance.</p> +<p>THE LIGHTED MATCH. By Charles Neville Buck.</p> +<p>Illustrated by R. F. Schabelitz.</p> +<p>A lovely princess travels incognito through the States and +falls in love with an American man. There are ties that bind her +to someone in her own home, and the great plot revolves round +her efforts to work her way out.</p> +<p>MAUD BAXTER. By C. C. Hotchkiss. Illustrated by Will Grefe.</p> +<p>A romance both daring and delightful, involving an American girl +and a young man who had been impressed into English +service during the Revolution.</p> +<p>THE HIGHWAYMAN. By Guy Rawlence. Illustrated by Will Grefe.</p> +<p>A French beauty of mysterious antecedents wins the love +of an Englishman of title. Developments of a startling character +and a clever untangling of affairs hold the reader’s interest.</p> +<p>THE PURPLE STOCKINGS. By Edward Salisbury Field. +Illustrated in colors; marginal illustrations.</p> +<p>A young New York business man, his pretty sweetheart, +his sentimental stenographer, and his fashionable sister are +mixed up in a misunderstanding that surpasses anything in the +way of comedy in years. A story with a laugh on every page.</p> +<p>Ask for complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction</p> +<p>GROSSET & DUNLAP, 526 WEST 26TH ST., NEW YORK</p> +</div> +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Boss of Wind River, by A. M. 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