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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/36522-8.txt b/36522-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b33f3b4 --- /dev/null +++ b/36522-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12410 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Trail of the Axe, by Ridgwell Cullum + +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 Trail of the Axe + A Story of Red Sand Valley + +Author: Ridgwell Cullum + +Illustrator: Clarence F. Underwood + +Release Date: June 26, 2011 [EBook #36522] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRAIL OF THE AXE *** + + + + +Produced by Andrew Sly, Al Haines and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + + + + +[Frontispiece: "Don't think that makes any difference. I shall marry +him just the same." _Frontispiece.--The Trail of the Axe_.] + + + + + +The Trail of the Axe + +_A Story of the Red Sand Valley_ + + +BY RIDGWELL CULLUM + +Author of "The Watchers of the Plains," "The Sheriff of Dyke Hole", etc. + + + +With Frontispiece in Colors + +By CLARENCE F. UNDERWOOD + + + +A. L. BURT COMPANY + +Publishers New York + + + + +Copyright, 1910, by + +George W. Jacobs & Company + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAP. + + I. Dave + II. A Picnic in the Red Sand Valley + III. Affairs in Malkern + IV. Dick Mansell's News + V. Jim Truscott Returns + VI. Parson Tom Interferes + VII. The Work at the Mills + VIII. At the Church Bazaar + IX. In Dave's Office + X. An Auspicious Meeting + XI. The Summer Rains + XII. The Old Mills + XIII. Betty Decides + XIV. The Mills + XV. Betty Takes Cover + XVI. Disaster at the Mill + XVII. The Last of the Sawyer + XVIII. Face To Face + XIX. In the Mountains + XX. The Church Militant + XXI. An Adventure in the Fog + XXII. Terror in the Mountains + XXIII. The Red Tide of Anarchy + XXIV. In the Dead of Night + XXV. Mason's Prisoner + XXVI. To the Lumber Camp + XXVII. At Bay + XXVIII. Dave--the Man + XXIX. The End of the Strike + XXX. In the Dugout + XXXI. At Midnight + XXXII. Two Men--and a Woman + + + + +The Trail of the Axe + + + + +CHAPTER I + +DAVE + + +Dave was thirty-two, but looked forty; for, in moulding his great, +strong, ugly face, Nature had been less than kind to him. It is +probable, from his earliest, Dave had never looked less than ten years +older than he really was. + +Observing him closely, one had the impression that Nature had set +herself the task of equipping him for a tremendous struggle in the +battle of life; as though she had determined to make him invincible. +Presuming this to have been her purpose, she set to work with a liberal +hand. She gave him a big heart, doubtless wishing him to be strong to +fight and of a great courage, yet with a wonderful sympathy for the +beaten foe. She gave him the thews and sinews of a Hercules, probably +arguing that a man must possess a mighty strength with which to carry +himself to victory. To give him such physical strength it was necessary +to provide a body in keeping. Thus, his shoulders were abnormally wide, +his chest was of a mighty girth, his arms were of phenomenal length, +and his legs were gnarled and knotted with muscles which could never be +satisfactorily disguised by the class of "store" clothes it was his +frugal custom to wear. + +For his head Nature gave him a fine, keen brain; strong, practical, +subtly far-seeing in matters commercial, bluntly honest and temperate, +yet withal matching his big heart in kindly sympathy. It was thrilling +with a vast energy and capacity for work, but so pronounced was its +dominating force, that in the development of his physical features it +completely destroyed all delicacy of mould and gentleness of +expression. He displayed to the world the hard, rugged face of the +fighter, without any softening, unless, perhaps, one paused to look +into the depths of his deep-set gray eyes. + +Nature undoubtedly fulfilled her purpose. Dave was equipped as few men +are equipped, and if it were to be regretted that his architect had +forgotten that even a fighting man has his gentler moments, and that +there are certain requirements in his construction to suit him to such +moments, in all other respects he had been treated lavishly. Summed up +briefly, Dave was a tower of physical might, with a face of striking +plainness. + +It was twelve years since he came to the Red Sand Valley. He was then +fresh from the lumber regions of Puget Sound, on the western coast of +the United States. He came to Western Canada in search of a country to +make his own, with a small capital and a large faith in himself, +supported by a courage that did not know the meaning of defeat. + +He found the Red Sand Valley nestling in the foot-hills of the Rocky +Mountains. He saw the wonders of the magnificent pine woods which +covered the mountain slopes in an endless sea of deep, sombre green. +And he knew that these wonderful primordial wastes were only waiting +for the axe of the woodsman to yield a building lumber second to none +in the world. + +The valley offered him everything he needed. A river that flowed in +full tide all the open season, with possibilities of almost limitless +"timber booms" in its backwaters, a delicious setting for a village, +with the pick of a dozen adequate sites for the building of lumber +mills. He could hope to find nothing better, so he stayed. + +His beginning was humble. He started with a horse-power saw-pit, and a +few men up in the hills cutting for him. But he had begun his great +struggle with fortune, and, in a man such as Nature had made him, it +was a struggle that could only end with his life. The battle was +tremendous, but he never hesitated, he never flinched. + +Small as was his beginning, six years later his present great mills and +the village of Malkern had begun to take shape. Then, a year later, the +result of his own persistent representation, the Canadian Northwestern +Railroad built a branch line to his valley. And so, in seven years, his +success was practically assured. + +Now he was comfortably prosperous. The village was prosperous. But none +knew better than he how much still remained to be achieved before the +foundations of his little world were adequate to support the weight of +the vast edifice of commercial enterprise, which, with his own two +hands, his own keen brain, he hoped to erect. + +He was an American business man raised in the commercial faith of his +country. He understood the value of "monopoly," and he made for it. +Thus, when he could ill spare capital, by dint of heavy borrowings he +purchased all the land he required, and the "lumbering" rights of that +vast region. + +Then it was that he extended operations. He abandoned his first mill +and began the building of his larger enterprise further down the +valley, at a point where he had decided that the village of Malkern +should also begin its growth. + +Once the new mill was safely established he sold his old one to a man +who had worked with him from the start. The transaction was more in the +nature of a gift to an old friend and comrade. The price was nominal, +but the agreement was binding that the mill should only be used for the +production of small building material, and under no circumstances to be +used in the production of rough "baulks." This was to protect his own +monopoly in that class of manufacture. + +George Truscott, the lumberman with whom he made the transaction, +worked the old mills with qualified success for two years. Then he died +suddenly of blood-poisoning, supervening upon a badly mutilated arm +torn by one of his own saws. The mill automatically became the property +of his only son Jim, a youth of eighteen, curly-headed, bright, +lovable, but wholly irresponsible for such an up-hill fight as the +conduct of the business his father had left him. + +The master of the Malkern mills, as might be expected, was a man of +simple habits and frugal tastes. In his early struggles he had had +neither time nor money with which to indulge himself, and the habit of +simple living had grown upon him. He required so very little. He had no +luxurious home; a mere cottage of four rooms and a kitchen, over which +an aged and doting mother ruled, her establishment consisting of one +small maid. His office was a shack of two rooms, bare but useful, +containing one chair and one desk, and anything he desired to find a +temporary safe resting-place for strewn about the floor, or hung upon +nails driven into the walls. It was all he needed, a roof to shade him +from the blazing summer sun when he was making up his books, and four +walls to shut out the cruel blasts of the Canadian winter. + +He was sitting at his desk now, poring over a heap of letters which had +just arrived by the Eastern mail. This was the sort of thing he +detested. Correspondence entailed a lot of writing, and he hated +writing. Figures he could cope with, he had no grudge against them, but +composing letters was a task for which he did not feel himself +adequately equipped; words did not flow easily from his pen. His +education was rather the education of a man who goes through the world +with ears and eyes wide open. He had a wide knowledge of men and +things, but the inside of books was a realm into which he had not +deeply delved. + +At last he pushed his letters aside and sat back, his complaining chair +protesting loudly at the burden imposed upon it. He drew an impatient +sigh, and began to fill his pipe, gazing through the rain-stained +window under which his untidy desk stood. He had made up his mind to +leave the answering of his letters until later in the day, and the +decision brought him some relief. + +He reached for the matches. But suddenly he altered his mind and +removed his pipe from his mouth. A smile shone in his deep-set eyes at +the sight of a dainty, white figure which had just emerged from behind +a big stack of milled timber out in the yard and was hurrying toward +the office. + +He needed no second glance to tell him who the figure belonged to. It +was Betty--little Betty Somers, as he loved to call her--who taught the +extreme youth of Malkern out of her twenty-two years of erudition and +worldly wisdom. + +He sprang from his chair and went to the door to meet her, and as he +walked his great bulk and vast muscle gave his gait something of the +roll of a sailor. He had no lightness, no grace in his movements; just +the ponderous slowness of monumental strength. He stood awaiting her in +the doorway, which he almost filled up. + +Betty was not short, but he towered above her as she came up, his six +feet five inches making nothing of her five feet six. + +"This is bully," he cried delightedly, as she stood before him. "I +hadn't a notion you were getting around this morning, Betty." + +His voice was as unwieldy as his figure; it was husky too, in the +manner of powerful voices when their owners attempt to moderate them. +The girl laughed frankly up into his face. + +"I'm playing truant," she explained. Then her pretty lips twisted +wryly, and she pointed at the lintel of the door. "Please sit down +there," she commanded. Then she laughed again. "I want to talk to you, +and--and I have no desire to dislocate my neck." + +He made her feel so absurdly small; she was never comfortable unless he +was sitting down. + +The man grinned humorously at her imperious tone, and sat down. They +were great friends, these two. Betty looked upon him as a very dear, +big, ugly brother to whom she could always carry all her little worries +and troubles, and ever be sure of a sympathetic adviser. It never +occurred to her that Dave could be anything dearer to anybody. He was +just Dave--dear old Dave, an appellation which seemed to fit him +exactly. + +The thought of him as a lover was quite impossible. It never entered +her head. Probably the only people in Malkern who ever considered the +possibility of Dave as a lover were his own mother, and perhaps Mrs. +Tom Chepstow. But then they were wiser than most of the women of the +village. Besides, doubtless his mother was prejudiced, and Mrs. Tom, in +her capacity as the wife of the Rev. Tom Chepstow, made it her business +to study the members of her husband's parish more carefully than the +other women did. But to the ordinary observer he certainly did not +suggest the lover. He was so strong, so cumbersome, so unromantic. Then +his ways were so deliberate, so machine-like. It almost seemed as +though he had taken to himself something of the harsh precision of his +own mills. + +On the other hand, his regard for Betty was a matter of less certainty. +Good comradeship was the note he always struck in their intercourse, +but oftentimes there would creep into his gray eyes a look which spoke +of a warmth of feeling only held under because his good sense warned +him of the utter hopelessness of it. He was too painfully aware of the +quality of Betty's regard for him to permit himself any false hopes. + +Betty's brown eyes took on a smiling look of reproach as she held up a +warning finger. + +"Dave," she said, with mock severity, "I always have to remind you of +our compact. I insist that you sit down when I am talking to you. I +refuse to be made to feel--and look--small. Now light your pipe and +listen to me." + +"Go ahead," he grinned, striking a match. His plain features literally +shone with delight at her presence there. Her small oval, sun-tanned +face was so bright, so full of animation, so healthy looking. There was +such a delightful frankness about her. Her figure, perfectly rounded, +was slim and athletic, and her every movement suggested the open air +and perfect health. + +"Well, it's this way," she began, seating herself on the corner of a +pile of timber: "I'm out on the war-path. I want scalps. My pocketbook +is empty and needs filling, and when that's done I'll get back to my +school children, on whose behalf I am out hunting." + +"It's your picnic?" suggested Dave. + +"Not mine. The kiddies'. So now, old boy, put up your hands! It's your +money or your life." And she sat threatening him with her pocketbook, +pointing it at him as though it were a pistol. + +Dave removed his pipe. + +"Guess you'd best have 'em both," he smiled. + +But Betty shook her head with a joyous laugh. + +"I only want your money," she said, extending an open hand toward him. + +Dave thrust deep into his hip-pocket, and produced a roll of bills. + +"It's mostly that way," he murmured, counting them out. + +But his words had reached the girl, and her laugh died suddenly. + +"Oh, Dave!" she said reproachfully. + +And the man's contrition set him blundering. + +"Say, Betty, I'm a fool man anyway. Don't take any sort of notice. I +didn't mean a thing. Now here's fifty, and you can have any more you +need." + +He looked straight into her eyes, which at once responded to his +anxious smile. But she did not attempt to take the money. She shook her +head. + +"Too much." + +But he pushed the bills into her hand. + +"You can't refuse," he said. "You see, it's for the kiddies. It isn't +just for you." + +When Dave insisted refusal was useless. Betty had long since learned +that. Besides, as he said, it was for the "kiddies." She took the +money, and he sat and watched her as she folded the bills into her +pocketbook. The girl looked up at the sound of a short laugh. + +"What's that for?" she demanded, her brown eyes seriously inquiring. + +"Oh, just nothing. I was thinking." + +The man glanced slowly about him. He looked up at the brilliant summer +sun. Then his eyes rested upon the rough exterior of his unpretentious +office. + +"It meant something," asserted Betty. "I hate people to laugh--in that +way." + +"I was thinking of this shack of mine. I was just thinking, Betty, what +a heap of difference an elegant coat of paint makes to things. You see, +they're just the same underneath, but they--kind of look different with +paint on 'em, kind of please the eye more." + +"Just so," the girl nodded wisely. "And so you laughed--in that way." + +Dave's eyes twinkled. + +"You're too sharp," he said. Then he abruptly changed the subject. + +"Now about this picnic. You're expecting all the grown folk?" + +The girl's eyes opened to their fullest extent. + +"Of course I do. Don't you always come? It's only once a year." The +last was very like a reproach. + +The man avoided her eyes. He was looking out across the sea of stacked +timber at the great sheds beyond, where the saws were shrieking out +their incessant song. + +"I was thinking," he began awkwardly, "that I'm not much good at those +things. Of course I guess I can hand pie round to the folks; any fellow +can do that. But----" + +"But what?" The girl had risen from her seat and was trying to compel +his gaze. + +"Well, you see, we're busy here--desperately busy. Dawson's always +grumbling that we're short-handed----" + +Betty came up close to him, and he suddenly felt a gentle squeeze on +his shoulder. + +"You don't want to come," she said. + +"'Tisn't that--not exactly." + +He kept his eyes turned from her. + +"You see," he went on, "you'll have such a heap of folk there. They +mostly all get around--for you. Then there'll be Jim Truscott, and +Jim's worth a dozen of me when it comes to picnics and 'sociables' and +such-like." + +The girl's hand suddenly dropped from his shoulder, and she turned +away. A flush slowly mounted to her sun-tanned cheeks, and she was +angry at it. She stood looking out at the mills beyond, but she wasn't +thinking of them. + +At last she turned back to her friend and her soft eyes searched his. + +"If--if you don't come to the picnic to-morrow, I'll never forgive you, +Dave--never!" + +And she was gone before his slow tongue could frame a further excuse. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +A PICNIC IN THE RED SAND VALLEY + + +Summer, at the foot of the Canadian Rockies, sets in suddenly. There +are no dreary days of damp and cold when the east wind bites through to +the bones and chills right down to the marrow. One moment all is black, +dead; the lean branches and dead grass of last year make a waste of +dreary decay. Watch. See the magic of the change. The black of the +trees gives way to a warming brown; the grass, so sad in its +depression, suddenly lightens with the palest hue of green. There is at +once a warmth of tone which spreads itself over the world, and gladdens +the heart and sets the pulses throbbing with renewed life and hope. +Animal life stirs; the insect world rouses. At the sun's first smile +the whole earth wakens; it yawns and stretches itself; it blinks and +rubs its eyes, and presently it smiles back. The smile broadens into a +laugh, and lo! it is summer, with all the world clad in festal raiment, +gorgeous in its myriads of changing color-harmonies. + +It was on such a day in the smiling valley of the Red Sand River that +Betty Somers held her school picnic. There were no shadows to mar the +festivities she had arranged. The sky was brilliant, cloudless, and +early in the season as it was, the earth was already beginning to crack +and parch under the fiery sun. + +A dozen democrat wagons, bedecked with flags and filled to overflowing +with smiling, rosy-faced children, each wagon under the charge of one +of the village matrons, set out at eight o'clock in the morning for the +camping-ground. Besides these, an hour later, a large number of private +buggies conveyed the parents and provender, while the young people of +the village rode out on horseback as a sort of escort to the +commissariat. It was a gay throng, and there could be little doubt but +that the older folk were as delighted at the prospect of the outing as +the children themselves. + +Dave was there with the rest. Betty's challenge had had its effect. But +he came without any of the enthusiasm of the rest of the young people. +It was perfectly true that the demands of his mill made the outing +inconvenient to him, but that was not the real reason of his +reluctance. There was another, a far stronger one. All the years of his +manhood had taught him that there was small place for him where the +youth of both sexes foregathered. His body was too cumbersome, his +tongue was too slow, and his face was too plain. The dalliance of man +and maid was not for him, he knew, and did he ever doubt or forget it, +his looking-glass, like an evil spirit, was ever ready to remind and +convince him. + +The picnic ground was some five miles down the valley, in the depths of +a wide, forest-grown glen, through which a tiny tributary of the Red +Sand River tumbled its way over a series of miniature waterfalls. The +place was large and magnificently rock-bound, and looked as though it +had originally been chiseled by Nature to accommodate a rushing +mountain torrent. It gave one the impression of a long disused waterway +which, profiting by its original purpose, had become so wonderfully +fertilized that its vegetation had grown out of all proportion to its +capacity. It was a veritable jungle of undergrowth and forest, so dense +and wide spreading as almost to shut out the dazzling sunlight. It was +an ideal pleasure camping-ground, where the children could romp and +play every game known to the Western child, and their elders could +revel in the old, old game which never palls, and which the practice of +centuries can never rob of its youth. + +All the morning the children played, while the women were kept busy +with the preparations for the midday feast. The men were divided up +into two sections, the elders, taking office under the command of Tom +Chepstow, organizing the children's games, and the other half, +acknowledging the leadership of Mrs. Tom, assisting those engaged in +the culinary arrangements. + +As might be expected, the latter occupation found most favor with the +younger men. There was far more fun in wandering through the tangled +undergrowth of the riverside to help a girl fill a kettle, than in +racking one's brains for some startlingly unoriginal and long-forgotten +game with which to dazzle the mind of Malkern's youth. Then there were +the joys of gathering fire-wood, a task which enlisted the services of +at least a dozen couples. This was a much favored occupation. There was +no time limit, and it involved a long, long ramble. Then, too, it was +remarkable that every girl performing the simplest duty, and one in +which she never required the least assistance when at home, found it +quite impossible to do so here without the strong physical and moral +support of the man she most favored. + +Thus the morning passed. While the girls and men flirted, and the older +women took to themselves a reflected enjoyment of it all, the children +shrieked their delight at the simplest game, and baited their elders +with all the impudence of childhood. It was a morning of delight to +all; a morning when the sluggish blood of the oldest quickened in the +sunken veins; a morning when the joy of living was uppermost, and all +care was thrust into the background. + +It was not until after dinner that Dave saw anything of Betty. As he +had anticipated, Jim Truscott never left her side, and his own morning +had been spent with Tom Chepstow and the children. Then, at dinner, it +had fallen to his lot to assist the matrons in waiting upon the same +riotous horde. In consequence, by the time he got his own meal, Betty +and the younger section of the helpers had finished theirs and were +wandering off into the woods. + +After dinner he sought out a secluded spot in which to smoke and--make +the best of things. He felt he had earned a rest. His way took him +along the bank of the little tumbling river. It was delightfully +restful, cool and shadowed by the overhanging trees that nearly met +across it. It was not an easy path, but it was calmly beautiful and +remote, and that was all he sought. + +Just above one rapid, something larger than the others he had passed, +he came to a little log footbridge. It was a delicious spot, and he sat +down and filled his pipe. The murmur of the rapids below came up to him +pleasantly. All the foliage about him was of that tender green inspired +by the humidity of the dank, river atmosphere. Here and there the sun +broke through in patches and lit up the scene, and added beauty to the +remoter shadows of the woods. It was all so peaceful. Even the distant +voices of the children seemed to add to the calm of his retreat. + +His pipe was nearly finished, and an insidious languor was stealing +over him. He nodded once or twice, almost asleep. Then he started wide +awake; a familiar laughing voice sounded just behind him, calling him +by name. + +"Oh, Dave! So this is where you are! I've been hunting for you +till--till my feet are sore." + +Before he could move Betty had plumped herself down beside him on the +bridge. He was wide enough awake now, and his delight at the girl's +presence was so apparent that she promptly and frankly remarked upon it. + +"I do believe you're glad I came, and--woke you up," she laughed. + +The man leant back luxuriously and propped himself against the post of +the hand-rail. + +"I am, surely," he said with conviction. "I've been thinking about +picnics. It seems to me they're a heap of fun----" + +"So you stole away by yourself to enjoy this one." + +Betty's brown eyes glanced slyly at him. There was a half smile in +them, and yet they were serious. Dave began to refill his pipe. + +"Well, Betty, you see I just thought I'd like a smoke. I've been with +the kiddies all morning." + +Suddenly the girl sat round facing him. + +"Dave, I'm a little beast. I oughtn't to have made you come. I know you +don't care for this sort of thing, only--well, you are so kind, and you +are so fond of making people happy. And you--you---- Oh, Dave, I--I want +to tell you something. That's--that's why I was hunting for you." + +She had turned from him, and was gazing out down the stream now. Her +face was flushed a deep scarlet. For an instant she had encountered his +steady gray eyes and her confusion had been complete. She felt as +though he had read right down into her very soul. + +Dave put his pipe away. The serious expression of his rugged face was +unchanged, but the smile in his eyes had suddenly become more +pronounced. + +"So that's why you hunted me out?" he said gently. "Well, Betty, you +can tell me." + +He had seen the blushing face. He had noted the embarrassment and +hesitancy, and the final desperate plunge. He knew in his heart what +was coming, and the pain of that knowledge was so acute that he could +almost have cried out. Yet he sat there waiting, his eyes smiling, his +face calmly grave as it always was. + +For nearly a minute neither spoke. Then the man's deep voice urged the +girl. + +"Well?" + +Betty rested her face in her hands and propped her elbows on her knees. +All her embarrassment had gone now. She was thinking, thinking, and +when at last her words came that tone of excitement which she had used +just a moment before had quite gone out of her voice. + +"It's Jim," she said quietly. "He's asked me to marry him. I've +promised--and--and he's gone to speak to uncle." + +Dave took out his pipe again and looked into the bowl of it. + +"I guessed it was that," he said, after a while. Then he fumbled for +his tobacco. "And--are you happy--little Betty?" he asked a moment +later. + +"Yes--I--I think so." + +"You think so?" + +Dave was astonished out of himself. + +"You only think so?" he went on, his breath coming quickly. + +Betty sat quite still and the man watched her, with his pipe and +tobacco gripped tightly in his great hand. He was struggling with a mad +desire to crush this girl to his heart and defy any one to take her +from him. It was a terrible moment. But the wild impulse died down. He +took a deep breath and--slowly filled his pipe. + +"Tell me," he said, and his tone was very tender. + +The girl turned to him. She rested an arm on his bent knee and looked +up into his face. There was no longer any hesitation or doubt. She was +pale under the warm tanning of her cheeks, but she was very pretty, +and, to Dave, wildly seductive as she thus appealed to him. + +"Oh, Dave, I must tell you all. You are my only real friend. You, I +know, will understand, and can help me. If I went to uncle, good and +kind as he is, I feel he would not understand. And auntie, she is so +matter-of-fact and practical. But you--you are different from anybody +else." + +The man nodded. + +"I have loved Jim for so long," she went on hurriedly. "Long--long +before he ever even noticed me. To me he has always been everything a +man should and could be. You see, he is so kind and thoughtful, so +brave, so masterful, so--so handsome, with just that dash of +recklessness which makes him so fascinating to a girl. I have watched +him pay attention to other girls, and night after night I have cried +myself to sleep about it. Dave, you have never known what it is to love +anybody, so all this may seem silly to you, but I only want to show you +how much I have always cared for Jim. Well, after a long time he began +to take notice of me. I remember it so well," she went on, with a +far-away look in her eyes. "It was a year ago, at our Church Social. He +spent a lot of time with me there, and gave me a box of candy, and then +asked permission to see me home. Dave, from that moment I was in a +seventh heaven of happiness. Every day I have felt and hoped that he +would ask me to be his wife. I have longed for it, prayed for it, +dreaded it, and lived in a dream of happiness. And now he has asked me." + +She turned away to the bustling stream. Her eyes had become +pathetically sad. + +"And----" Dave prompted her. + +"Oh, I don't know." She shook her head a little helplessly. "It all +seems different now." + +"Different?" + +"Yes, that wildly happy feeling has gone." + +"You are--unhappy?" + +The man's voice shook as he put his question. + +"It isn't that. I'm happy enough, I suppose. Only--only--I think I'm +frightened now, or something. All my dreams seem to have tumbled about +my ears. I have no longer that wonderful looking forward. Is it because +he is mine now, and no one can take him from me? Or is it," her voice +dropped to an awed whisper, "that--I--don't----" + +She broke off as though afraid to say all she feared. Dave lit his pipe +and smoked slowly and thoughtfully. He had gone through his ordeal +listening to her, and now felt that he could face anything without +giving his own secret away. He must reassure her. He must remove the +doubt in her mind, for, in his quiet, reasoning way, he told himself +that all her future happiness was at stake. + +"No, it's not that, Betty," he said earnestly. "It's not that you love +him less. It's just that for all that year you've thought and thought +and hoped about it--till there's nothing more to it," he added lamely. +"You see, it's the same with all things. Realization is nothing. It's +all in the anticipation. You wait, little girl. When things are fixed, +and Parson Tom has said 'right,' you'll--why, you'll just be the +happiest little bit of a girl in Malkern. That's sure." + +Betty lifted her eyes to his ugly face and looked straight into the +kindly eyes. Just for one impulsive moment she reached out and took +hold of his knotty hand and squeezed it. + +"Dave, you are the dearest man in the world. You are the kindest and +best," she cried with unusual emotion. "I wonder----" and she turned +away to hide the tears that had suddenly welled up into her troubled +eyes. + +But Dave had seen them, and he dared not trust himself to speak. He sat +desperately still and sucked at his pipe, emitting great clouds of +smoke till the pungent fumes bit his tongue. + +Then relief came from an unexpected quarter. There was a sharp +crackling of bush just above where they sat and the scrunch of crushing +pine cones trodden under foot, and Jim Truscott stepped on to the +bridge. + +"Ah, here you are at last. My word, but I had a job to find you." + +His tone was light and easy, but his usually smiling face was clouded. +Betty sprang to her feet. + +"What is it, Jim?" she demanded, searching his face. "Something is +wrong. I know it is." + +Jim seated himself directly in front of Dave, who now watched him with +added interest. He now noticed several things in the boy he did not +remember having observed before. The face in repose, or rather without +the smile it usually wore, bore signs of weakness about the mouth. The +whole of the lower part of it lacked the imprint of keen decision. +There was something almost effeminate about the mould of his full lips, +something soft and yielding--even vicious. The rest of his face was +good, and even intellectual. He was particularly handsome, with crisp +curling hair of a light brown that closely matched his large expressive +eyes. His tall athletic figure was strangely at variance with the +intellectual cast of his face and head. But what Dave most noticed were +the distinct lines of dissipation about his eyes. And he wondered how +it was he had never seen them before. Perhaps it was that he so rarely +saw Jim without his cheery smile. Perhaps, now that Betty had told him +what had taken place, his observation was closer, keener. + +"What is it, Jim?" He added his voice to Betty's inquiry. Jim's face +became gloomier. He turned to the girl, who had resumed her seat at +Dave's side. + +"Have you told him?" he asked, and for a moment his eyes brightened +with a shadow of their old smile. + +The girl nodded, and Dave answered for her. + +"She's told me enough to know you're the luckiest fellow in the Red +Sand Valley," he said kindly. + +Jim glanced up into the girl's face with all the passion of his +youthful heart shining in his handsome eyes. + +"Yes, I am, Dave--in that way," he said. Then his smile faded out and +was replaced by a brooding frown. "But all the luck hasn't come my way. +I've talked to Parson Tom." + +"Ah!" Dave's ejaculation was ominous. + +Suddenly Jim exploded, half angrily, half pettishly, like a +disappointed schoolboy. + +"Betty, I've got to go away. Your uncle says so. He asked me all about +my mill, what my profits were, and all that. I told him honestly. I +know I'm not doing too well. He said I wasn't making enough to keep a +nigger servant on. He told me that until I could show him an income of +$2,500 a year there was to be no talk of engagement. What is more, he +said he couldn't have me philandering about after you until there was a +reasonable prospect of that income. We talked and argued, but he was +firm. And in the end he advised me, if I were really in earnest and +serious, to go right away, take what capital I had, and select a new +and rising country to start in. He pointed out that there was not room +enough here for two in the lumbering business; that Dave, here, +complained of the state of trade, so what chance could I possibly have +without a tithe of his resources. Finally, he told me to go and think +out a plan, talk it over with you, and then tell him what I had decided +upon. So here I am, and----" + +"So am I," added Betty. + +"And as I am here as well," put in Dave, "let's talk it over now. Where +are you thinking of going?" + +"Seems to me the Yukon is the place. There's a big rush going on. +There's great talk of fabulous fortunes there." + +"Yes, fabulous," said Dave dryly. "It's a long way. A big fare. You'll +find yourself amongst all the scum and blacklegs of this continent. +You'll be up against every proposition known to the crook. You'll get +tainted. Why not do some ranching? Somewhere around here, toward +Edmonton." + +Jim shook his head gloomily. + +"I haven't nearly enough capital." + +"Maybe I could manage it for you," said Dave thoughtfully. "I mean it +as a business proposition," he added hastily. + +Jim's face cleared, and his ready smile broke out like sunshine after a +summer storm. + +"Would you?" he cried. "Yes, a business proposition. Business interest. +I know the very place," he went on ardently. "Betty, wouldn't that be +bully? How would you like to be a rancher's wife?" + +But his spirits quickly received a damper. Betty shook her head. + +"No, Jim. Not at Dave's expense." Then she turned to the man who had +made the offer. "No, no, Dave, old friend. Jim and I know you. This is +not business from your point of view. You added that to disguise your +kindly intention." + +"But----" Dave began to protest. + +But Betty would have none of it. + +"This is a debate," she said, with a brightness she did not feel, "and +I am speaking. Jim," she turned gently to her lover, "we'll start fair +and square with the world. You must do as uncle says. And you can do +it. Do it yourself--yourself unaided. God will help you--surely. You +are clever; you have youth, health and strength. I will wait for you +all my life, if necessary. You have my promise, and it is yours until +you come back to claim me. It may be only a year or two. We must be +very, very brave. Whatever plan you decide on, if it is the Yukon, or +Siberia, or anywhere else, I am content, and I will wait for you." + +The girl's words were so gently spoken, yet they rang with an +irrevocable decision that astonished her hearers. Dave looked into the +pretty, set face. He had known her so long. He had seen her in almost +every mood, yet here was a fresh side to her character he had never +even suspected, and the thought flashed through his mind, to what +heights of ambition might a man not soar with such a woman at his side. + +Jim looked at her too. But his was a stare of amazement, and even +resentment. + +"But why, Betty?" he argued sharply. "Why throw away a business offer +such as this, when it means almost certain success? Dave offered it +himself, and surely you will allow that he is a business man before all +things." + +"Is he?" Betty smiled. Then she turned to the man who had made the +offer. "Dave, will you do something for me?" + +"Why, yes, Betty--if it's not to go and wash up cups down there," he +replied at once, with a grin. + +"No, it isn't to wash cups. It's"--she glanced quickly at Jim, who was +watching her with anything but a lover-like stare--"it's--to withdraw +that offer." + +Dave removed his pipe and turned to Jim. + +"That ranch business is off," he said. + +Then he suddenly sat up and leant toward the younger man. + +"Jim, boy, you know I wish you well," he said. "I wish you so well that +I understand and appreciate Betty's decision now, though I allow I +didn't see it at first. She's right. Parson Tom is right. I was wrong. +Get right out into the world and make her a home. Get right out and +show her, and the rest of us, the stuff you're made of. You won't fail +if you put your back into it. And when you come back it'll be a great +day for you both. And see here, boy, so long as you run straight you +can ask me anything in the name of friendship, and I'll not fail you. +Here's my hand on it." + +Something of Dave's earnestness rather than the girl's quiet strength +seemed to suddenly catch hold of and lift the dejected man out of his +moodiness. His face cleared and his sunny smile broke out again. He +gripped the great hand, and enthusiasm rang in his voice. + +"By God, you're right, Dave," he cried. "You're a good chap. Yes, I'll +go. Betty," he turned to the girl, "I'll go to the Yukon, where there's +gold for the seeking. I'll realize all the money I can. I won't part +with my mill. That will be my fall-back if I fail. But I won't fail. +I'll make money by--no, I'll make money. And----" Suddenly, at the +height of his enthusiasm, his face fell, and the buoyant spirit dropped +from him. + +"Yes, yes," broke in Betty, anxious to see his mood last. + +Jim thought for a moment while the clouds gathered on his face. Then he +looked steadily at Dave. + +"Dave," he said, and paused. Then he began again. "Dave--in +friendship's name--I'll ask you something now. Betty here," he +swallowed, as though what he had to say was very difficult. "You see, I +may be away a long time, you can never tell. Will you--will you take +care of her for me? Will you be her--her guardian, as you have always +been mine? I know I'm asking a lot, but somehow I can't leave her here, +and--I know there's her uncle and aunt. But, I don't know, somehow I'd +like to think you had given me your word that she would be all right, +that you were looking after her for me. Will you?" + +His face and tone were both eager, and full of real feeling. Dave never +flinched as he listened to the request, yet every word cut into his +heart, lashed him till he wondered how it was Jim could not see and +understand. He moistened his lips. He groped in his pocket for his +matches and lit one. He let it burn out, watching it until the flame +nearly reached his fingers. Then he knocked his pipe out on his boot, +and broke it with the force he used. Finally he looked up with a smile, +and his eyes encountered Betty's. + +She smiled back, and he turned to her lover, who was waiting for his +answer. + +"Sure I'll look after her--for you," he said slowly. + +Jim sprang to his feet. + +"I can never thank----" + +But Dave cut him short. + +"Don't thank me, boy," he said, preparing to return to the camp. +"Just--get out and do." And he left the lovers to return at their +leisure. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +AFFAIRS IN MALKERN + + +Four glowing summers have gone; a fifth is dawning, driving before its +radiant splendor the dark shadows and gray monotony of winter's icy +pall. Malkern is a busy little town, spreading out its feelers in the +way of small houses dotted about amidst the park land of the valley. +Every year sees a further and further extension of its boarded +sidewalks and grass-edged roadways; every year sees its population +steadily increasing; every year sees an advancement in the architecture +of its residences, and some detail displaying additional prosperity in +its residents. + +Behind this steady growth of prosperity sits Dave, large, quiet, but +irresistible. His is the guiding hand. The tiller of the Malkern ship +is in his grasp, and it travels the laid course without deviation +whatsoever. The harbor lies ahead, and, come storm or calm, he drives +steadily on for its haven. + +Thus far has the man been content. Thus far have his ambitions been +satisfied. He has striven, and gained his way inch by inch; but with +that striving has grown up in him a desire such as inevitably comes to +the strong and capable worker. A steady success creates a desire to +achieve a master-stroke, whereby the fruit which hitherto he has been +content to pluck singly falls in a mass into his lap. And therein lies +the human nature which so often upsets the carefully trained and +drilled method of the finest tempered brain. + +Dave saw his goal looming. He saw clearly that all that he had worked +for, hoped for, could be gained at one stroke. That one stroke meant +capturing the great government contract for the lumber required for +building the new naval docks. It was a contract involving millions of +dollars, and, with all the courage with which his spirit was laden, he +meant to attempt the capture. His plans had been silently laid. No +detail had been forgotten, no pains spared. Night and day his +thoughtful brain had worked upon his scheme, and now had come that time +when he must sit back and wait for the great moment. Nor did this great +moment depend on him, and therein lay the uncertainty, the gamble so +dear to the human heart. + +His scheme had been confided to only three people, and these were with +him now, sitting on the veranda of the Rev. Tom Chepstow's house. The +house stood on a slightly rising ground facing out to the east, whence +a perfect view of the wide-spreading valley was obtained. It was a +modest enough place, but trim and carefully kept. Parson Tom's stipend +was so limited and uncertain that luxury was quite impossible; a rigid +frugality was the ruling in his small household. + +It was Saturday. The day's work was over, and the family were watching +the sunset and awaiting the hour for supper. The parson was luxuriating +in a pipe in a well-worn deck-chair at one extremity of the deep, +wild-cucumber-covered veranda. Dave sat near him; Mary Chepstow, the +parson's wife, was crocheting a baby's woolen jacket, stoutly +comfortable in a leather armchair; while Betty, a little more mature in +figure, a little quieter in manner, but even prettier and more charming +to look at than she was on the day of her picnic nearly five years ago, +occupied a seat near the open French window, ready to attend at a +moment's notice to the preparing of supper. + +Betty had been silent for quite a while. She was staring with +introspective gaze out in the direction of the railroad depot. The two +men had been discussing the best means of raising the funds for the +building of a new church, aided by a few impracticable suggestions from +Mrs. Chepstow, who had a way of counting her stitches aloud in the +midst of her remarks. Suddenly Betty turned to her uncle, whose lean, +angular frame was grotesquely hunched up in his deck-chair. + +"Will old Mudley bring the mail over if the train does come in this +evening?" she inquired abruptly. + +The parson shook his head. His lean, clean-shaven face lit with a +quizzical smile as he glanced over at his niece. + +"Why should he?" he replied. "He never does bring mail round. Are you +expecting a letter--from him?" + +There was no self-consciousness in the girl's manner as she replied. +There was not even warmth. + +"Oh, no; I was wondering if I should get one from Maud Hardwig. She +promised to write me how Lily's wedding went off in Regina. It is a +nuisance about the strike. But it's only the plate-layers, isn't it; +and it only affects the section where they are constructing east of +Winnipeg?" + +Her uncle removed his pipe. + +"Yes. But it affects indirectly the whole system. You see, they won't +put on local mails from Regina. They wait for the eastern mail to come +through. By the way, how long is it since you heard from Jim?" + +Betty had turned away and was watching the vanishing point of the +railway track, where it entered the valley a couple of miles away. +Dave's steady eyes turned upon her. But she didn't answer at once, and +her uncle had to call her attention. + +"Betty!" + +"Oh, I'm sorry, uncle," she replied at once. "I was dreaming. When did +I hear? Oh, nearly nine months ago." + +Mary Chepstow looked up with a start. + +"Nine months? Gracious, child--there, I've done it wrong." + +Bending over her work she withdrew her hook and started to unravel the +chain she was making. + +"Yes," Betty went on coldly. "Nine months since I had a letter. But +I've heard indirectly." + +Her uncle sat up. + +"You never told me," he said uneasily. + +The girl's indifference was not without its effect on him. She never +talked of Jim Truscott now. And somehow the subject was rarely broached +by any of them. Truscott had nominally gone away for two or three +years, but they were already in the fifth year since his departure, and +there was as yet no word of his returning. Secretly her uncle was +rather pleased at her silence on the subject. He augured well from it. +He did not think there was to be any heart-breaking over the matter. He +had never sanctioned any engagement between them, but he had been +prepared to do so if the boy turned up under satisfactory conditions. +Now he felt that it was time to take action in the matter. Betty was +nearly twenty-seven, and--well, he did not want her to spend her life +waiting for a man who showed no sign of returning. + +"I didn't see the necessity," she said quietly. "I heard of him through +Dave." + +The parson swung round on the master of the mills. His keen face was +alert with the deepest interest. + +"You, Dave?" he exclaimed. + +The lumberman stirred uneasily, and Mary Chepstow let her work lie idle +in her lap. + +"Dawson--my foreman, you know--got a letter from Mansell. You remember +Mansell? He acted as Jim's foreman at his mill. A fine sawyer, +Mansell----" + +"Yes, yes." Parson Tom's interest made him impatient. + +"Well, you remember that Mansell went with Jim when he set out for the +Yukon. They intended to try their luck together. Partners, of course. +Well, Mansell wrote Dawson he was sick to death of worrying things out +up there. He said he'd left Jim, but did not state why. He asked him if +my mill was going strong, and would there be a job for him if he came +back. He said that Jim was making money now. He had joined a man named +Broncho Bill, a pretty hard citizen, and in consequence he was doing +better. How he was making money he didn't say. But he finished up his +remarks about the boy by saying he'd leave him to tell his own story, +as he had no desire to put any one away." + +Mrs. Chepstow offered no comment, but silently picked up her work and +went on with it. Her husband sat back in his chair, stretching his long +muscular legs, and folding his hands behind his head. Betty displayed +not the least interest in Dave's haltingly told story. + +The silence on the veranda was ominous. Chepstow began to refill his +pipe, furtively watching his niece's pretty profile as she sat looking +down the valley. It was his wife who broke the oppressive silence. + +"I can't believe badly--three treble in the adjacent hole"--she +muttered, referring to her pattern book, "of him. I always liked +him--five chain." + +"So do I," put in Dave with emphasis. + +Betty glanced quickly into his rugged face. + +"You don't believe the insinuations of that letter?" she asked him +sharply. + +"I don't." + +Dave's reply was emphatic. Betty smiled over at him. Then she jumped up +from her seat and pointed down the track. + +"There's the mail," she cried. Then she came to her aunt's side and +laid a hand coaxingly on her shoulder. "Will you see to supper, dear, +if I go down for the mail?" + +Mrs. Chepstow would not trust herself to speak, she was in the midst of +a complicated manipulation of the pattern she was working, so she +contented herself with a nod, and Betty was off like the wind. The two +men watched her as she sped down the hard red sand trail, and neither +spoke until a bend in the road hid her from view. + +"She's too good a girl, Dave," Chepstow said with almost militant +warmth. "She's not going to be made a fool of by--by----" + +"She won't be made a fool of by any one," Dave broke in with equal +warmth. "There's no fear of it, if I'm any judge," he added. "I don't +think you realize that girl's spirit, Tom. Here, I'll tell you +something I've never told anybody. When Jim went away Betty came to me +and asked me to let her study my mills. She wanted to learn all the +business of 'em. All the inside of the management of 'em. If I'd have +let her she'd have learnt how to run the saws. And do you know why she +did it? I'll tell you. Because she thought Jim might come back broke, +and he and she together could start up his old mill again, so as to win +through. That's Betty. Can you beat it? That girl has made up her mind +to a certain line of action, and she'll see it through, no matter what +her feelings may be. No word of yours, or mine, will turn her from her +purpose. She'll wait for Jim." + +"Yes, and waste the best of her life," exclaimed Mrs. Chepstow. "One, +two, three--turn." + +Dave smiled over at the rotund figure crocheting so assiduously. +Although Mary Chepstow was over forty her face still retained its +youthful prettiness. The parson laughed. He generally laughed at his +wife's views upon anything outside of her small household and the care +of the sick villagers. But it was never an unkind laugh. Just a large, +tolerant good-nature, a pronounced feature in his character. Parson +Tom, like many kindly men, was hasty of temper, even fiery, and being a +man of considerable athletic powers, this characteristic had, on more +than one occasion, forcibly brought some recalcitrant member of his +uncertain-tempered flock to book, and incidentally acquired for him the +sobriquet of "the fighting parson." + +"I don't know about wasting the best of her life," he said. "Betty has +never wasted her life. Look at the school she's got now. And, mark you, +she's done it all herself. She has three teachers under her. She has +negotiated all the finance of the school herself. She got the +government by the coat-tails and dragged national support out of it. +Why, she's a wonder. No, no, not waste, Mary. Let her wait if she +chooses. We won't interfere. I only hope that when Jim does come back +he'll be a decent citizen. If he isn't, I'd bet my last cent Betty will +know how to deal with him." + +"She'll sure give him up, if he isn't," said Dave with conviction. + +Mary looked up, her round blue eyes twinkling. + +"Dave knows Betty better than we do, Tom. I'd almost think---- I'm not +sure I like this shade of pink," she digressed, examining her wool +closely. "Er--what was I saying? Oh, yes--I'd almost think he'd made a +special study of her." + +A deep flush spread slowly over Dave's ugly face, and he tried to hide +it by bending over his pipe and examining the inside of the bowl. + +Parson Tom promptly changed the subject. He shook his head and turned +away to watch the ruddy extravagance of the sunset in the valley. + +"Dave has got far too much to think of in his coming government +contract to bother with a girl like Betty. By the way, when do you +expect to hear the result of your tender, Dave?" + +"Any time." + +The lumberman's embarrassment had vanished at the mention of his +contract. His eyes lit, and the whole of his plain features were +suddenly illumined. This was his life's purpose. This contract meant +everything to him. All that had gone before, all his labor, his early +struggles, they were nothing to the store he set by this one great +scheme. + +"Good. And your chances?" There was the keenest interest in the +parson's question. + +"Well, I'd say they're good. You see, that find of ours up in the hills +opens a possibility we never had before. The new docks require an +enormous supply of ninety-foot timber. It's got to be ninety-foot +stuff. Well, we've got the timber in that new find. There's a valley of +some thousands of acres of forest which will supply it. Tom," he went +on eagerly, "we could cut 'em hundred-and-twenty-foot logs from that +forest till the cows come home. It's the greatest proposition in +lumbering. It's one of the greatest of those great primordial pine +forests which are to be found in the Rockies, if one is lucky enough. +At present we are the only people in Canada who can give them the stuff +they need, and enough of it. Yes, I think I'll get it. I've set the +wires pulling all I know. I've cut the price. I've done everything I +can, and I think I'll get it. If I do I'll be a millionaire half a +dozen times over, and Malkern, and all its people, will rise to an +immense prosperity. I must get it! And having got it, I must push it +through successfully." + +Mary and her husband were hanging on the lumberman's words, carried +away by his enthusiasm. There was that light of battle in his eyes, the +firm setting of his heavy under-jaw, which they knew and understood so +well. To them he was the personification of resolution. To them his +personality was irresistible. + +"Of course you'll push it through successfully," Tom nodded. + +"Yes, yes. I shall. I must," Dave said, stirring his great body in his +chair with a restlessness which spoke of his nervous tension. "But it's +this time limit. You see, it's a government contract. They want these +naval docks built quickly. The whole scheme is to be rushed through. +Since the Imperial Conference has decided that each colony is to build +its own share of the navy for imperial defense, in view of the European +situation, that building is to be begun at once. They are laying down +five ships this year, and, by the end of the year, they are to have +docks ready for the laying down of six more. My contract is for the +lumber for those docks. You see? My contract must be completed before +winter closes down, without fail. I have guaranteed that. Well, as I am +the only lumberman in Canada that can supply this heavy lumber, if they +do not give it to me they will have to go to the States for it. Yes," +he added, with something like a sigh, "I think I shall get it. +But--this time limit! If I fail it will break me, and, in the crash, +Malkern will go too." + +Mary Chepstow sighed with emotion. Her crochet was forgotten. + +"You won't fail," she murmured, her eyes glistening. "You can't!" + +"Malkern isn't going to tumble about our ears, old friend," Parson Tom +said with quiet assurance. + +Dave had fallen back into his lounging attitude and puffed at his pipe. + +"No," he said. Then he pointed down the trail in the direction of the +depot. "There's Betty coming along in a hurry with Jenkins Mudley." + +All eyes turned to look. Betty was almost running beside the tall thin +figure of the operator and postmaster of Malkern. They came up with a +final rush, the man flourishing a telegram at Dave. Betty was carrying +a number of letters. + +"I just thought I'd bring this along myself," Mudley grinned. +"Everything's been delayed through the strike down east. This, too. +Felt I'd hate to let any one else hand it to you, Dave." + +Dave snatched at the tinted envelope and tore it open, while Betty, +nodding at her uncle and aunt, her eyes dancing with delight, made +frantic signs to them. But they took no notice of her, keeping their +eyes fixed on the towering form of the master of the mills. Dave was +the calmest man present. He read the message over twice, and then +deliberately thrust it into his pocket. Then, as he returned to his +seat, he said--"I've got my contract, folks." + +"Hurrah!" cried Betty, no longer able to control herself. The operator +had previously imparted the fact to her. Then, with a jump, she was on +the veranda and flung some letters into her uncle's lap, retaining one +for herself that had already been read. The next moment she had seized +both of Dave's great hands, and was wringing them with all her heart +and soul shining in her eyes. + +"I'm so--so glad, I don't know what I'm doing or saying," she cried, +and then collapsed on her uncle's knee. + +Dave laughed quietly, but her aunt, her face belying her words, +reproved her gently. + +"Betty," she said warningly as the girl scrambled to her feet, "don't +get excited. I think you'd better go and see to supper. I see you got +your letter. How did the wedding go off?" + +Betty was leaning against one of the veranda posts. + +"Oh, yes," she said indifferently. "I'd forgotten my letter. It's from +Jim. He's coming home." + +Her aunt suddenly picked up her work. The parson began to open his +letters. Dave's eyes, until that moment smiling, suddenly became +serious. The girl's news had a strangely damping effect. Dave cleared +his throat as though about to speak. But he remained silent. + +Then Betty moved across to the door. + +"I'll go and get supper," she said quietly, and vanished into the house. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +DICK MANSELL'S NEWS + + +For Dave the next fortnight was fraught with a tremendous pressure of +work. But arduous and wearing as it was, to him there was that thrill +of conscious striving which is the very essence of life to the +ambition-inspired man. His goal loomed dimly upon his horizon, he could +see it in shadowy outline, and every step he took now, every effort he +put forth, he knew was carrying him on, drawing him nearer and nearer +to it. He worked with that steady enthusiasm which never rushes. He was +calm and purposeful. To hasten, to diverge from his deliberate course +in the heat of excitement, he knew would only weaken his effort. +Careful organization, perfect, machine-like, was what he needed, and +the work would do itself. + +At the mills a large extension of the milling floors and an added +number of saws were needed. In its present state the milling floor +could hardly accommodate the ninety-foot logs demanded by the contract. +This was a structural alteration that must be carried out at express +speed, and had been prepared for, so that it was only a matter of +executing plans already drawn up. Joel Dawson, the foreman, one of the +best lumbermen in the country, was responsible for the alterations. +Simon Odd, the master sawyer, had the organizing of the skilled labor +staff inside the mill, a work of much responsibility and considerable +discrimination. + +But with Dave rested the whole responsibility and chief organization. +It was necessary to secure labor for both the mill and the camps up in +the hills. And for this the district had to be scoured, while two +hundred lumber-jacks had to be brought up from the forests of the +Ottawa River. + +Dave and his lieutenants worked all their daylight hours, and most of +the night was spent in harness. They ate to live only, and slept only +when their falling eyelids refused to keep open. + +Only Dave and his two loyal supporters knew the work of that fortnight; +only they understood the anxiety and strain, but their efforts were +crowned with success, and at the end of that time the first of the +"ninety-footers" floated down the river to the mouth of the great boom +that lay directly under the cranes of the milling floor. + +It was not until that moment that Dave felt free to look about him, to +turn his attention from the grindstone of his labors. It was midday +when word passed of the arrival of the first of the timber, and he went +at once to verify the matter for himself. It was a sight to do his +heart good. The boom, stretching right into the heart of the mills, was +a mass of rolling, piling logs, and a small army of men was at work +upon them piloting them so as to avoid a "crush." It was perilous, +skilful work, and the master of the mills watched with approval the +splendid efforts of these intrepid lumber-jacks. He only waited until +the rattling chains of the cranes were lowered and the first log was +grappled and lifted like a match out of the water, and hauled up to the +milling floor. Then, with a sigh as of a man relieved of a great +strain, he turned away and passed out of his yards. + +It was the first day for a fortnight he had gone to his house for +dinner. + +His home was a small house of weather-boarding with a veranda all +creeper-grown, as were most of the houses in the village. It had only +one story, and every window had a window-box full of simple flowers. It +stood in a patch of garden that was chiefly given up to vegetables, +with just a small lawn of mean-looking turf with a centre bed of +flowers. Along the top-railed fence which enclosed it were, set at +regular intervals, a number of small blue-gum and spruce trees. It was +just such an abode as one might expect Dave to possess: simple, useful, +unpretentious. It was the house of a man who cared nothing for luxury. +Utility was the key-note of his life. And the little trivial +decorations in the way of creepers, flowers, and such small luxuries +were due to the gentle, womanly thought of his old mother, with whom he +lived, and who permitted no one else to minister to his wants. + +She was in the doorway when he came up, a small thin figure with +shriveled face and keen, questioning eyes. She was clad in black, and +wore a print overall. Her snow-white hair was parted in the middle and +smoothed down flat, in the method of a previous generation. She was an +alert little figure for all her sixty odd years. + +The questioning eyes changed to a look of gladness as the burly figure +of her son turned in at the gate. There could be no doubt as to her +feelings. Dave was all the world to her. Her admiration for her son +amounted almost to idolatry. + +"Dinner's ready," she said eagerly. "I thought I'd just see if you were +coming. I didn't expect you. Have you time for it, Dave?" + +"Sure, ma," he responded, stooping and kissing her upturned face. "The +logs are down." + +"Dear boy, I'm glad." + +It was all she said, but her tone, and the look she gave him, said far +more than the mere words. + +Dave placed one great arm gently about her narrow shoulders and led her +into the house. + +"I'm going to take an hour for dinner to-day sure," he said, with +unusual gaiety. "Just to celebrate. After this," he went on, "for six +months I'm going to do work that'll astonish even you, ma." + +"But you won't overdo it, Dave, will you? The money isn't worth it. It +isn't really. I've lived a happy life without much of it, boy, and I +don't want much now. I only want my boy." + +There was a world of gentle solicitude in the old woman's tones. So +much that Dave smiled upon her as he took his place at the table. + +"You'll have both, ma, just as sure as sure. I'm not only working for +the sake of the money. Sounds funny to say that when I'm working to +make myself a millionaire. But it's not the money. It's success first. +I don't like being beaten, and that's a fact. We Americans hate being +beaten. Then there's other things. Think of these people here. They'll +do well. Malkern'll be a city to be reckoned with, and a prosperous +one. Then the money's useful to do something with. We can help others. +You know, ma, how we've talked it all out." + +The mother helped her son to food. + +"Yes, I know. But your health, boy, you must think of that." + +Dave laughed boisterously, an unusual thing with him. But his mood was +light. He felt that he wanted to laugh at anything. What did anything +matter? By this time a dozen or so of the "ninety-footers" were already +in the process of mutilation by his voracious saws. + +"Health, ma?" he cried. "Look at me. I don't guess I'm pretty, but I +can do the work of any French-Canadian horse in my yards." + +The old woman shook her silvery head doubtfully. + +"Well, well, you know best," she said, "only I don't want you to get +ill." + +Dave laughed again. Then happening to glance out of the window he saw +the figure of Joe Hardwig, the blacksmith, turning in at the gate. + +"Another plate, ma," he said hastily. "There's Hardwig coming along." + +His mother summoned her "hired" girl, and by the time Hardwig's knock +came at the door a place was set for him. Dave rose from the table. + +"Come right in, Joe," he said cheerily. "We're just having grub. Ma's +got some bully stew. Sit down and join us." + +But Joe Hardwig declined, with many protestations. He was a broad, +squat little man, whose trade was in his very manner, in the strength +of his face, and in the masses of muscle which his clothes could not +conceal. + +"The missus is wantin' me," he said. "Thank you kindly all the same. +Your servant, mam," he added awkwardly, turning to Dave's mother. Then +to the lumberman, "I jest come along to hand you a bit of information I +guessed you'd be real glad of. Mansell--Dick Mansell's got back! I've +been yarnin' with him. Say, guess you'll likely need him. He's wantin' +a job too. He's a bully sawyer." + +Dave had suddenly become serious. + +"Dick Mansell!" he cried. Then, after a pause, "Has he brought word of +Jim Truscott?" + +The mother's eyes were on her son, shrewdly speculating. She had seen +his sudden gravity. She knew full well that he cared less for Mansell's +powers as a sawyer than for Mansell as the companion and sharer of Jim +Truscott's exile. Now she waited for the blacksmith's answer. + +Joe shifted uneasily. His great honest face looked troubled. He had not +come there to spill dirty water. He knew how much Dave wanted skilled +hands, and he knew that Dick needed work. + +"Why, yes," he said at last. "At least--that is----" + +"Out with it, man," cried Dave, with unusual impatience. "How is Jim, +and--how has he done?" + +Just for an instant Joe let an appealing glance fall in the old woman's +direction, but he got no encouragement from her. She was steadily +proceeding with her dinner. Besides, she never interfered with her boy. +Whatever he did was always right to her. + +"Well?" Dave urged the hesitating man. + +"Oh, I guess he's all right. That is--he ain't hard up. Why yes, he was +speakin' of him," Joe stumbled on. "He guessed he was comin' along down +here later. That is, Jim is--you see----" + +But Dave hated prevarication. He could see that Joe didn't want to tell +what he had heard. However he held him to it fast. + +"Has Jim been running straight?" he demanded sharply. + +"Oh, as to that--I guess so," said Joe awkwardly. + +Dave came over to where Joe was still standing, and laid a hand on his +shoulder. + +"See here, Joe, we all know you; you're a good sportsman, and you don't +go around giving folks away--and bully for you. But I'd rather you told +me what Mansell's told you than that he should tell me. See? It won't +be peaching. I've got to hear it." + +Joe looked straight up into his face, and suddenly his eyes lit angrily +at his own thought. "Yes, you'd best have it," he exclaimed, all his +hesitation gone; "that dogone boy's been runnin' a wild racket. He's +laid hold of the booze and he's never done a straight day's work since +he hit the Yukon trail. He's comin' back to here with a gambler's wad +in his pocketbook, and--and--he's dead crooked. Leastways, that's how +Mansell says. It's bin roulette, poker an' faro. An' he's bin runnin' +the joint. Mansell says he ain't no sort o' use for him no ways, and +that he cut adrift from the boy directly he got crooked." + +"Oh, he did, did he?" said Dave, after a thoughtful pause. "I don't +seem to remember that Dick Mansell was any saint. I'd have thought a +crooked life would have fallen in with his views, but he preferred to +turn the lad adrift when he most needed help. However, it don't +signify. So the lad's coming back a drunkard, a gambler and a crook? At +least Dick Mansell says so. Does he say why he's coming back?" + +"Well, he s'poses it's the girl--Miss Betty." + +"Ah!" + +Joe shifted uneasily. + +"It don't seem right--him a crook," he said, with some diffidence. + +"No." Then Dave's thoughtful look suddenly changed to one of business +alertness, and his tone became crisp. "See here, Joe, what about that +new tackle for the mills? Those hooks and chains must be ready in a +week. Then there's those cant-hooks for the hill camps. The smiths up +there are hard at it, so I'm going to look to you for a lot. Then +there's another thing. Is your boy Alec fit to join the mills and take +his place with the other smiths? I want another hand." + +"Sure, he's a right good lad--an' thankee. I'll send him along right +away." The blacksmith was delighted. He always wanted to get his boy +taken on at the mill. The work that came his way he could cope with +himself; besides, he had an assistant. He didn't want his boy working +under him; it was not his idea of things. It was far better that he +should get out and work under strangers. + +"Well, that's settled." + +Dave turned to his dinner and Joe Hardwig took his leave, and when +mother and son were left together again the old woman lost no time in +discussing Dick Mansell and his unpleasant news. + +"I never could bear that Mansell," she said, with a severe shake of her +head. + +"No, ma. But he's a good sawyer--and I need such men." + +The old woman looked up quickly. + +"I was thinking of Jim Truscott." + +"That's how I guessed." + +"Well? What do you think?" + +Dave shook his head. + +"I haven't seen Jim yet," he said. "Ma, we ain't Jim's judges." + +"No." + +"I'm going down to the depot," Dave said after a while. "Guess I've got +some messages to send. I'm getting anxious about that strike. They say +that neither side will give way. The railway is pretty arbitrary on +this point, and the plate-layers are a strong union. I've heard that +the brakesmen and engine-drivers are going to join them. If they do, +it's going to be bad for us. That is, in a way. Strikes are infectious, +and I don't want 'em around here just now. We've got to cut a hundred +thousand foot a day steady, and anything delaying us means--well, it's +no use thinking what it means. We've got to be at full work night and +day until we finish. I'll get going." + +He pushed his plate away and rose from the table. He paused while he +filled and lit his pipe, then he left the house. Joe Hardwig's news had +disturbed him more than he cared to admit, and he did not want to +discuss it, even with his mother. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +JIM TRUSCOTT RETURNS + + +Dave was on the outskirts of the village when he fell in with Parson +Tom. Tom was on ahead, but he saw the great lumbering figure swinging +along the trail behind him, and waited. + +"Hello, Dave," he greeted him, as he came up. "It's ages since I've +seen you." + +The master of the mills laughed good-naturedly. + +"Sure," he said, "my loafing days are over. I'll be ground hollow +before I'm through. The grindstone's good and going. It's good to be at +work, Tom. I mean what you'd call at your great work. When I'm through +you shall have the finest church that red pine can build." + +"Ah, it's good to hear you talk like that. I take it things are running +smoothly. It's not many men who deserve to make millions, but I think +you are one of the few." + +Dave shook his head. + +"You're prejudiced about me, Tom," he replied smiling, "but I want that +money. And when I get it we'll carry out all our schemes. You know, the +schemes we've talked over and planned and planned. Well, when the time +comes, we won't forget 'em----" + +"Like most people do. Hello!" The parson was looking ahead in the +direction of a small crowd standing outside Harley-Smith's saloon. +There was an anxious look in his clear blue eyes, and some +comprehension. The crowd was swaying about in unmistakable fashion, and +experience told him that a fight was in progress. He had seen so many +fights in Malkern. Suddenly he turned to Dave-- + +"Where are you going?" he inquired. + +"To the depot." + +"Good. I'll just cut along over there. That must be stopped." + +Dave gazed at the swaying crowd. Several men were running to join it. +Then he looked down from his great height at the slim, athletic figure +of his friend. + +"Do you want any help?" he inquired casually. + +Parson Tom shook his head. + +"No," he said, with a smile of perfect confidence. "They're children, +all simple children. Big and awkward and unruly, if you like, but all +children. I can manage them." + +"I believe you can," said Dave. "Well, so long. Don't be too hard on +them. Remember they're children." + +Tom Chepstow laughed back at him as he hurried away. + +"All right. But unruly children need physical correction as well as +moral. And if it is necessary I shan't spare them." + +He went off at a run, and Dave went on to the depot. He knew his friend +down to his very core. There was no man in the village who was the +parson's equal in the noble art of self-defense. And it was part of his +creed to meet the rougher members of his flock on their own ground. He +knew that this militant churchman would stop that fight, and, if +necessary, bodily chastise the offenders. It was this wholesome +manliness that had so endeared the "fighting parson" to his people. +They loved him for his capacity, and consequently respected him far +more than they would have done the holiest preacher that ever breathed. +He was a man they understood. + +The spiritual care of a small lumbering village is not lightly to be +entered upon. A man must be peculiarly fitted for it. In such a place, +where human nature is always at its crudest; where muscle, and not +intellect, must always be the dominant note; where life is lived +without a thought for the future, and the present concern is only the +individual fitness to execute a maximum of labor, and so give +expression to a savage vanity in the triumph of brute force, the man +who would set out to guide his fellows must possess qualities all too +rare in the general run of clergy. His theology must be of the +simplest, broadest order. He must live the life of his flock, and teach +almost wholly by example. His preaching must be lit with a local +setting, and his brush must lay on the color of his people's every-day +life. + +Besides this, he must possess a tremendous moral and physical courage, +particularly the latter, for to the lumber-jack nothing else so +appeals. He must feel that he is in the presence of a man who is always +his equal, if not his superior, in those things he understands. Tom +Chepstow was all this. He was a lumberman himself at heart. He knew +every detail of the craft. He had lived that life all his manhood's +days. + +Then he possessed a rare gift in medicine. He had purposely studied it +and taken his degrees, for no one knew better than he the strength this +added to his position. He shed his healing powers upon his people, a +gift that reaped him a devotion no sanctity and godliness could ever +have brought him. Parson Tom was a practical Christian first, and +attended only to spiritual welfare when the body had been duly cared +for. + +Dave went on to the depot, where he despatched his messages. Then he +extracted from Jenkins Mudley all the information he possessed upon the +matter of the plate-layers' strike, and finally took the river trail +back to the mills. + +His way took him across the log bridge over the river, and here he +paused, leaning upon the rail, and gazed thoughtfully down the woodland +avenue which enclosed the turbulent stream. + +Somehow he could never cross that bridge without pausing to admire the +wonderful beauty of his little friend's surroundings. He always thought +of this river as his friend. How much it was his friend only he knew. +But for it, and its peculiarities, his work would be impossible. He did +not have to do as so many lumbermen have to, depend on the spring +freshet to carry his winter cut down to his mill. The melting snows of +the mountains kept the river flowing, a veritable torrent, during the +whole of the open season, and at such time he possessed in it a +never-failing transport line which cost him not one cent. + +The hour he had allowed for his dinner was not yet up, and he felt that +he could indulge himself a little longer, so he refilled his pipe and +smoked while he gazed contemplatively into the depths of the dancing +waters below him. + +But his day-dreaming was promptly interrupted, and the interruption was +the coming of Betty, on her way home to her dinner from the schoolhouse +up on the hillside. He had seen her only once since the day that +brought him the news of his contract. That was on the following Sunday, +when he went, as usual, to Tom Chepstow's for supper. + +Just at that moment Betty was the last person he wanted to see. That +was his first thought when he heard her step on the bridge. He had +forgotten that this was her way home, and that this was her +dinner-time. However, there was no sign of his reluctance in his face +when he greeted her. + +"Why, Betty," he said, as gently as his great voice would let him, "I +hadn't thought to see you coming this way." Then he broke off and +studied her pretty oval face more closely. "What's wrong?" he inquired +presently. "You look--you look kind of tired." + +He was quite right. The girl looked pale under her tan, and there was +an unusual darkness round her gentle brown eyes. She looked very tired, +in spite of the smile of welcome with which she greeted him. + +"Oh, I'm all right, Dave," she said at once. But her tone was +cheerless, in spite of her best effort. + +He shook his great head and knocked his pipe out. + +"There's something amiss, child. Guess maybe it's the heat." He turned +his eyes up to the blazing sun, as though to reassure himself that the +heat was there. + +Betty leant beside him on the rail. Her proximity, and the evident +sadness of her whole manner, made him realize that he must not stay +there. At that moment she looked such a pathetic little figure that he +felt he could not long be responsible for what he said. He longed to +take her in his arms and comfort her. + +He could think of nothing to say for a long time, but at last he broke +out with-- + +"You'd best not go back to the school this afternoon." + +But the girl shook her head. + +"It's not that," she said. Then she paused. Her eyes were fixed on the +rushing water as it flowed beneath the bridge. + +He watched her closely, and gradually a conviction began to grow in his +mind. + +"Dave," she went on at last, "we've always been such good friends, +haven't we? You've always been so patient and kind with me when I have +bothered you with my little troubles and worries. You never fail to +help me out. It seems to me I can never quite do without your help. +I--I"--she smiled more like her old self, and with relief the man saw +some of the alarming shadows vanishing from her face, "I don't think I +want to, either. I've had a long talk with Susan Hardwig this morning." + +"Ah!" + +The man's growing conviction had received confirmation. + +"What did that mean?" Betty asked quickly. + +Dave was staring out down the river. + +"Just nothing. Only I've had a goodish talk with Joe Hardwig." + +"Then I needn't go into the details. I've heard the news that Dick +Mansell has brought with him." + +It was a long time before either spoke again. For Dave there seemed so +little to say. What could he say? Sympathy was out of the question. He +had no right to blame Jim yet. Nor did he feel that he could hold out +hope to her, for in his heart he believed that the man's news was true. + +With Betty, she hardly knew how to express her feelings. She hardly +knew what her feelings were. At the time Mrs. Hardwig poured her tale +into her ears she had listened quite impersonally. Somehow the story +had not appealed to her as concerning herself, and her dominant thought +had been pity for the man. It was not until afterward, when she was +alone on her way to the school, that the full significance of it came +to her; and then it came as a shock. She remembered, all of a sudden, +that she was promised to Jim. That when Jim came back she was to marry +him. From that moment the matter had never been out of her mind; +through all her school hours it was with her, and her attention had +been so distracted from her work that she found her small pupils +getting out of hand. + +Yes, she was to marry Jim, and they told her he was a drunkard, a +gambler, and a "crook." She had given him her promise; she had sent him +away. It was her own doing. Her feelings toward him never came into her +thoughts. During the long five years of his absence he had become a +sort of habit to her. She had never thought of her real feelings after +the first month or two of his going. She was simply waiting for him, +and would marry him when he came. It was only now, when she heard this +story of him, that her feelings were called upon to assert themselves, +and the result was something very like horror at her own position. + +She remembered now her disappointment at the first realization of all +her hopes, when Jim had asked her to marry him. She had not understood +then, but now--now she did. She knew that she had never really loved +him. And at the thought of his return she was filled with horror and +dread. + +She was glad that she had met Dave; she had longed to see him. He was +the one person she could always lean on. And in her present trouble she +wanted to lean on him. + +"Dave," she began at last, in a voice so hopeless that it cut him to +the heart, "somehow I believe that story. That is, in the main. Don't +think it makes any difference to me. I shall marry him just the same. +Only I seem to see him in his real light now. He was always weak, only +I didn't see it then. He was not really the man to go out into the +world to fight alone. We were wrong. I was wrong. He should have stayed +here." + +"Yes," Dave nodded. + +"He must begin over again," she went on, after a pause. "When he comes +here we must help him to a fresh start, and we must blot his past out +of our minds altogether. There is time enough. He is young. Now I want +you to help me. We must ask him no questions. If he wants to speak he +can do so. Now that you are booming at the mills we can help him to +reopen his mill, and I know you can, and will, help him by putting work +in his way. All this is what I've been thinking out. When he comes, and +we are--married," there was the slightest possible hesitation before +the word, and Dave's quick ears and quicker senses were swift to hear +and interpret it, "I am going to help him with the work. I'll give up +my school. I've always had such a contingency in my mind. That's why I +got you to teach me your work when he first went away. Tell me, Dave, +you'll help me in this. You see the boy can't help his weakness. +Perhaps we are stronger than he, and between us we can help him." + +The man looked at her a long time in silence, and all the while his +loyal heart was crying out. His gray eyes shone with a light she did +not comprehend. She saw their fixed smile, and only read in them the +assent he never withheld from her. + +"I knew you would," she murmured. + +It was her voice that roused him. And he spoke just as she turned away +in the direction of the schoolhouse trail, whence proceeded the sound +of a horse galloping. + +"Yes, Betty--I'll help you sure," he said in his deep voice. + +"You'll help him, you mean," she corrected, turning back to him. + +But Dave ignored the correction. + +"Tell me, Betty," he went on again, this time with evident diffidence: +"you're glad he's coming back? You feel happy about--about getting +married? You--love him?" + +The girl stared straight up into the plain face. Her look was so +honest, so full of decision, that her reply left no more to be said. + +"Five years ago I gave him my promise. That promise I shall redeem, +unless Jim, himself, makes its fulfilment impossible." + +The man nodded. + +"You can come to me for anything you need for him," he said simply. + +Betty was about to answer with an outburst of gratitude when, with a +rush, a horseman came galloping round the bend of the trail and +clattered on to the bridge. At sight of the two figures standing by the +rail the horse jibbed, threw himself on to his haunches, and then shied +so violently that the rider was unseated and half out of the saddle, +clinging desperately to the animal's neck to right himself. And as he +hung there struggling, the string of filthy oaths that were hurled at +the horse, and any and everybody, was so foul that Betty tried to stop +her ears. + +Dave sprang at the horse and seized the bridle with one hand, with the +other he grabbed the horseman and thrust him up into the saddle. The +feat could only have been performed by a man of his herculean strength. + +"Cut that language, you gopher!" he roared into the fellow's ears as he +lifted him. + +"Cut the language!" cried the infuriated man. "What in hell are you +standing on a bridge spooning your girl for? This bridge ain't for that +sort of truck--it's for traffic, curse you!" + +By the time the man had finished speaking he had straightened up in the +saddle, and his face was visible to all. Dave jumped back, and Betty +gave a little cry. It was Jim Truscott! + +Yes, it was Jim Truscott, but so changed that even Betty could scarcely +believe the evidence of her eyes. In place of the bright, +clever-looking face, the slim figure she had always had in her mind +during the long five years of his absence, she now beheld a bloated, +bearded man, without one particle of the old refinement which had been +one of his most pronounced characteristics. It seemed incredible that +five years could have so changed him. Even his voice was almost +unrecognizable, so husky had it become. His eyes no longer had their +look of frank honesty, they were dull and lustreless, and leered +morosely. Her heart sank as she looked at him, and she remembered Dick +Mansell's story. + +All three stared for a moment without speaking. Then Jim broke into a +laugh so harsh that it made the girl shudder. + +"Well I'm damned!" he cried. "Of all the welcomes home this beats hell!" + +"Jim--oh, Jim!" + +The cry of horror and pain was literally wrung from the girl. Nor was +it without effect. The man seemed to realize his uncouthness, for he +suddenly took off his hat, and his face became serious. + +"I beg your pardon, Betty," he said apologetically. "I forgot where I +was. I forgot that the Yukon was behind me, and----" + +"That you're talking to the lady you're engaged to be married to," put +in Dave sharply. + +Dave's words drew the younger man's attention to himself. For a second +a malicious flash shone in the bloated eyes. Then he dropped them and +held out his hand. + +"How do, Dave?" he said coldly. + +Dave responded without any enthusiasm. He was chilled, chilled and +horrified, and he knew that Mansell's story was no exaggeration. He +watched Jim turn again to Betty. He saw the strained look in the girl's +eyes, and he waited. + +"I'll come along up to the house later," Jim said coolly. "Guess I'll +get along to the hotel and get cleaned some. I allow I ain't fit for +party calls at a hog pen just about now. So long." + +He jabbed his horse's sides with his heels and dashed across the +bridge. In a moment he was gone. + +It was some time before a word was spoken on the bridge. Dave was +waiting, and Betty could find no words. She was frightened. She wanted +to cry, and through it all her heart felt like lead in her bosom. But +her dominant feeling was fear. + +"Well, little Betty," said Dave presently, in that gentle protecting +manner he so often assumed toward her, "I must go on to the mills. What +are you going to do?" + +"I'm going home," she said; and to the keenly sympathetic ears of the +man the note of misery in her voice was all too plain. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +PARSON TOM INTERFERES + + +It was nearly five o'clock and the table was set for tea. Betty was +standing at the window staring thoughtfully out upon the valley. +Ordinarily her contemplation would have been one of delighted interest, +for the scene was her favorite view of the valley, where every feature +of it, the village, the mill, the river, assumed its most picturesque +aspect. + +She loved the valley with a deep affection. Unlike most people, who +tire of their childhood's surroundings and pant for fresh sights, fresh +fields in which to expand their thoughts and feelings, she clung to the +valley with all an artist's love for the beautiful, and a strength +inspired by the loyal affection of a simple woman. Her delight in her +surroundings amounted almost to a passion. To her this valley was a +treasured possession. The river was a friend, a fiery, turbulent +friend, and often she had declared, when in a whimsical mood, one to +whom she could tell her innermost secrets without fear of their being +passed on, in confidence, to another, or of having them flung back in +her face when spite stirred its tempestuous soul. + +She knew her river's shortcomings, she knew its every mood. It was +merely a torrent, a strenuous mountain torrent, but to her it possessed +a real personality. In the spring flood it was like some small +individual bursting with its own importance, with its vanity, with +resentment at the restraint of the iron hand of winter, from which it +had only just torn itself loose, and stirred to the depths of its +frothy soul with an overwhelming desire for self-assertion. Often she +had watched the splendid destruction of which it was capable at such a +time. She had seen the forest giants go down at the roar of its +battle-cry. She had often joined the villagers, standing fearful and +dismayed, watching its mounting waters lest their homes should be +devoured by the insatiable little monster, and filled with awe at its +magnificent bluster. + +Then, in the extreme heat of the late summer, when autumn had tinged +the valley to a glorious gold and russet, she had just as often seen +the reverse side of the picture. No longer could the river draw on the +vast supplies of the melting mountain snows, and so it was doomed to +fall a prey to the mighty grip of winter, and, as if in anticipation of +its end, it would sing its song of sadness as it sobbed quietly over +its fallen greatness, sighing dismally amongst the debris which in the +days of its power it had so wantonly torn from its banks. + +There was a great deal of the girl's character in her love for the +river. She possessed an enthusiastic admiration for that strength which +fights, fights until the last drop of blood, the last atom of power is +expended. Fallen greatness evoked her enthusiasm as keenly as success, +only that the enthusiasm was of a different nature. With her it was +better to have striven with all one's might and encountered disaster +than to have lived fallow, a life of the most perfect rectitude. Her +twenty-seven years of life had set her thrilling with a mental and +physical virility which was forever urging her, and steadily moulding +her whole outlook upon life, even though that outlook carried her no +farther than the confines of her beautiful sunlit valley. + +Something of this was stirring within her now. She was not thinking of +that which her eyes looked upon. She was thinking of the man to whom +she had given her promise, her woman's promise, which carries with it +all the best a woman has to give. She was no weakling, dreaming +regretfully of all that might have been; she had no thought of +retracting because in her heart she knew she had made a mistake. She +was reviewing the man as she had seen him that noon, and considering +the story of his doings as she had been told them, quietly making up +her mind to her own line of action. + +He was presently to come up to her home to have tea with them, and she +would be given the opportunity of seeing the man that five years' +absence in the wilds had made of him. Once or twice she almost +shuddered as the details of their meeting on the bridge obtruded +themselves. She tried to shut them out. She understood the rough side +of men, for she lived amongst a people in whom it was difficult enough +to trace even a semblance of gentleness. She allowed for the moment of +provocation when the man's horse had shied and unseated him. She +realized the natural inclination it would inspire to forcibly, even if +irresponsibly, protest. Even the manner of his protest she condoned. +But his subsequent attitude, his appearance, and his manner toward +herself, these were things which had an ugly tone, and for which she +could find no extenuation. + +However, it should all be settled that afternoon. She unfolded and +straightened out a piece of paper she had been abstractedly crumpling +in her hand. She glanced at the unsteady writing on it, a writing she +hardly recognized as Jim's. + + +"Will come up to tea this afternoon. Sorry for this morning.--JIM." + + +That was the note he had sent her soon after she had reached home. +There was no word of affection in it. Nothing but a bare statement and +an apology which scarcely warranted the name. To her it seemed to have +been prompted by the man's realization of an unpleasant and undesired +duty to be performed. The few letters she had received from him +immediately before his return had borne a similar tone of indifference, +and once or twice she had felt that she ought to write and offer him +his freedom. This, however, she had never done, feeling that by doing +so she might be laying herself open to misinterpretation. No, if their +engagement were distasteful to him, it must be Jim who broke it. Unlike +most women, she would rather he threw her over than bear the stigma of +having jilted him. She had thought this all out very carefully. She had +an almost mannish sense of honor, just as she possessed something of a +man's courage to carry out her obligations. + +She glanced over the tea-table. There were four places set. The table +was daintily arranged, and though the china was cheap, and there was no +display of silver, or any elaborate furnishings, it looked attractive. +The bread and butter was delicate, the assortment of home-made cakes +luscious, the preserves the choicest from her aunt's store-cupboard. +Betty had been careful, too, that the little sitting-room, with its +simple furniture and unpretentious decorations, should be in the nicest +order. She had looked to everything so that Jim's welcome should be as +cordial as kindly hearts could make it. And now she was awaiting his +coming. + +The clock on the sideboard chimed five, and a few moments later her +uncle came in. + +"What about tea, Betty?" he inquired, glancing with approval at the +careful preparations for the meal. + +"I think we ought to wait," she replied, with a wistful smile into his +keen blue eyes. "I sent word to Jim for five o'clock--but--well, +perhaps something has detained him." + +"No doubt," observed the parson dryly. "I dare say five minutes added +on to five years means nothing to Jim." + +He didn't approve the man's attitude at all. All his ideas on the +subject of courtship had been outraged at his delay in calling. He had +been in the village nearly five hours. + +The girl rearranged the teacups. + +"You mustn't be hard on him," she said quietly. "He had to get cleaned +up and settled at the hotel. I don't suppose he'd care to come here +like--like----" + +"It doesn't take a man five hours to do all that," broke in her uncle, +with some warmth. Then, as he faced the steady gaze of the girl's brown +eyes, he abruptly changed his tone and smiled at her. "Yes, of course +we'll wait. We'll give him half an hour's grace, and then--I'll fetch +him." + +Betty smiled. There was a characteristic snap in the parson's final +declaration. The militant character of the man was always very near the +surface. He was the kindest and best of men, but anything suggesting +lack of straightforwardness in those from whom he had a right to expect +the reverse never failed to rouse his ire. + +For want of something better to do Betty was carrying out a further +rearrangement of the tea-table, and presently her uncle questioned her +shrewdly. + +"You don't seem very elated at Jim's return?" he said. + +"I am more than pleased," she replied gravely. + +Parson Tom took up his stand at the window with his back turned. + +"When I was engaged to your aunt," he said, smiling out at the valley, +"if I had been away for five years and suddenly returned, she would +probably have had about three fits, a scene of shrieking hysteria, and +gone to bed for a week. By all of which I mean she would have been +simply crazy with delight. It must be the difference of temperament, +eh?" He turned round and stood smiling keenly across at the girl's +serious face. + +"Yes, uncle, I don't think I am demonstrative." + +"Do you want to marry him?" + +The man's eyes were perfectly serious now. + +"I am going to marry him--unless----" + +"Unless?" + +"Unless he refuses to marry me." + +"Do you want to marry him, my dear? That was my question." + +Her uncle had crossed over to her and stood looking down at her with +infinite tenderness in his eyes. She returned his gaze, and slowly a +smile replaced her gravity. + +"You are very literal, uncle," she said gently. "If you want an +absolutely direct reply it is 'Yes.'" + +But her uncle was not quite satisfied. + +"You--love him?" he persisted. + +But this catechism was too much for Betty. She was devoted to her +uncle, and she knew that his questions were prompted by the kindliest +motives. But in this matter she felt that she was entirely justified in +thinking and acting for herself. + +"You don't quite understand," she said, with just a shade of +impatience. "Jim and I are engaged, and you must leave us to settle +matters ourselves. If you press me I shall speak the plain truth, and +then you will have a wrong impression of the position. I perfectly +understand my own feelings. I am not blinded by them. I shall act as I +think best, and you must rely on my own judgment. I quite realize that +you want to help me. But neither you nor any one else can do that, +uncle. Ah, here is auntie," she exclaimed, with evident relief. + +Mrs. Chepstow came in. She was hot from her work in the kitchen, where +she was operating, with the aid of her "hired" girl, a large bake of +cakes for the poorer villagers. She looked at the clock sharply. + +"Why, it's half-past five and no tea," she exclaimed, her round face +shining, and her gentle eyes wide open. "Where's Jim? Not here? Why, I +am astonished. Betty, what are you thinking of?--and after five years, +too." + +"Betty hasn't got him in proper harness yet," laughed the parson, but +there was a look in his eyes which was not in harmony with his laugh. + +"Harness? Don't be absurd, Tom." Then she turned to Betty. "Did you +tell him five?" + +Tom Chepstow picked up his hat, and before the girl could answer he was +at the door. + +"I'm going to fetch him," he said, and was gone before Betty's protest +reached him. + +"I do wish uncle wouldn't interfere," the girl said, as her aunt +laughed at her husband's precipitate exit. + +"Interfere, my dear!" she exclaimed. "You can't stop him. He's got a +perverted notion that we women are incapable of taking care of +ourselves. He goes through life determined to fight our battles. +Determined to help us out when we don't need it. He's helped me 'out' +all our married life. He spends his life doing it, and I often wish +he'd--he'd leave me 'in' sometimes. I've never seen a man who could +upset a woman's plans more completely than your uncle, and all with the +best intention. One of these days I'll start to help him out, and then +we'll see how he likes it," she laughed good-humoredly. "You know, if +he finds Jim he's sure to upset the boy, and he'll come back thinking +he's done his duty by you. Poor Tom, and he does mean so well." + +"I know he does, auntie, and that's why we all love him so. Everybody +loves him for it, He never thinks of himself. It's always others, +and----" + +"Yes, my dear, you're right. But all the same I think he's right just +now. Why isn't Jim here? Why didn't he come straight away? Why has he +been in Malkern five hours before he comes to see you? Betty, my child, +I've not said a word all these years. I've left you to your own affairs +because I know your good sense; but, in view of the stories that have +reached us about Jim, I feel that the time has come for me to speak. +Are you going to verify those stories?" + +Mrs. Chepstow established her comfortable form in a basket chair, which +audibly protested at the weight it was called upon to bear. She folded +her hands in her lap, and, assuming her most judicial air, waited for +the girl's answer. Betty was thinking of her meeting with Jim on the +bridge. + +"I shall hear what he has to say," she said decidedly, after a long +pause. + +Her aunt stared. + +"You're going to let him tell you what he likes?" she cried in +astonishment. + +"He can tell me what he chooses, or--he need tell me nothing." + +Her aunt flushed indignantly. + +"You will never be so foolish," she said, exasperated. + +"Auntie, if Uncle Tom had been away five years, would you ask him for +proof of his life all that time?" Betty demanded with some warmth. + +The other stirred uneasily. + +"That depends," she said evasively. + +"No, no, auntie, it doesn't. You would never question uncle. You are a +woman, and just as foolish and stupid about that sort of thing as the +rest of us. We must take our men on trust. They are men, and their +lives are different from ours. We cannot judge them, or, at any rate, +we would rather not. Why does a woman cling to a scoundrelly husband +who ill-treats her and makes her life one long round of worry, and even +misery? Is it because she simply has to? No. It is because he is her +man. He is hers, and she would rather have his unkindness than another +man's caresses. Foolish we may be, and I am not sure but that we would +rather be foolish--where our men are concerned. Jim has come back. His +past five years are his. I am going to take up my little story where it +was broken five years ago. The stories I have heard are nothing to me. +So, if you don't mind, dear, we will close the subject." + +"And--and you love him?" questioned the elder woman. + +But the girl had turned to the window. She pointed out down the road in +the direction of the village. + +"Here is uncle returning," she said, ignoring the question. "He's +hurrying. Why--he's actually running!" + +"Running?" + +Mrs. Chepstow bustled to the girl's side, and both stood watching the +vigorous form of the parson racing up the trail. Just as he came to the +veranda they turned from the window and their eyes met. Betty's were +full of pained apprehension, while her aunt's were alight with +perplexed curiosity. Betty felt that she knew something of the meaning +of her uncle's undignified haste. She did not actually interpret it, +she knew it meant disaster, but the nature of that disaster never +entered into her thought. Something was wrong, she knew instinctively; +and, with the patience of strength, she made no attempt to even guess +at it, but simply waited. Her aunt rushed at the parson as he entered +the room and flung aside his soft felt hat. Betty gazed mutely at the +flaming anger she saw in his blue eyes, as his wife questioned him. + +"What is it?" she demanded. "What has happened?" + +Parson Tom drew a chair up to the table and flung himself into it. + +"We'll have tea," he said curtly. + +His wife obediently took her seat. + +"And Jim?" she questioned. + +The angry blue eyes still flashed. + +"We won't wait for him." + +Then Betty came to the man's side and laid one small brown hand firmly +on his shoulder. + +"You--you saw him?" she demanded. + +Her uncle shook her hand off almost roughly. + +"Yes--I saw him," he said. + +"And why isn't he here?" the girl persisted without a tremor, without +even noticing his rebuff. + +"Because he's lying on his bed at the hotel--drunk. Blind +drunk,--confound him." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE WORK AT THE MILLS + + +It was sundown. The evening shadows, long drawn out, were rapidly +merging into the purple shades of twilight. The hush of night was +stealing upon the valley. + +There was one voice alone, one discordant note, to jar upon the peace +of Nature's repose. It was the voice of Dave's mills, a voice that was +never silent. The village, with all its bustling life, its noisy +boarding-houses, its well-filled drinking booths, its roystering +lumber-jacks released from their day's toil, was powerless to disturb +that repose. But the harsh voice of the driving machinery rose dominant +above all other sounds. Repose was impossible, even for Nature, where +the restless spirit of Dave's enterprise prevailed. + +The vast wooden structures of the mills, acres of them, stood like some +devouring growth at the very core of Nature's fair body. It almost +seemed like a living organism feeding upon all the best she had to +yield. Day and night the saws, like the gleaming fangs of a voracious +life, tore, devoured, digested, and the song of its labors droned +without ceasing. + +Controlling, directing, ordering to the last detail, Dave sat in his +unpretentious office. Love of the lumberman's craft ran hot in his +veins. He had been born and bred to it. He had passed through its every +phase. He was a sawyer whose name was historical in the forests of +Oregon. As a cant-hook man he had few equals. As foreman he could +extract more work from these simple woodsman giants than could those he +employed in a similar capacity. + +In work he was inevitable. His men knew that when he demanded they must +yield. In this direction he displayed no sympathy, no gentleness. He +knew the disposition of the lumber-jack. These woodsmen rate their +employer by his driving power. They understand and expect to be ruled +by a stern discipline, and if this treatment is not forthcoming, their +employer may just as well abandon his enterprise for all the work they +will yield him. + +But though this was Dave in his business, it was the result of his +tremendous force of character rather than the nature of the man. If he +drove, it was honestly, legitimately. He paid for the best a man could +give him, and he saw that he got it. Sickness was sure of ready +sympathy, not outspoken, but practical. He was much like the prairie +man with his horse. His beast is cared for far better than its master +cares for himself, but it must work, and work enthusiastically to the +last ounce of its power. Fail, and the horse must go. So it was with +Dave. The man who failed him would receive his "time" instantly. There +was no question, no excuse. And every lumber-jack knew this and gladly +entered his service. + +Dave was closeted with his foreman, Joel Dawson, receiving the day's +report. + +"The tally's eighty thousand," Dawson was saying. + +Dave looked up from his books. His keen, humorous eyes surveyed the +man's squat figure. + +"Not enough," he said. + +"She's pressing hard now," came the man's rejoinder, almost defensively. + +"She's got to do twenty thousand more," retorted Dave finally. + +"Then y'll have to give her more saw room." + +"We'll see to it. Meanwhile shove her. How are the logs running? Is +Mason keeping the length?" + +"Guess he cayn't do better. We ain't handled nothin' under eighty foot." + +"Good. They're driving down the river fast?" + +"The boom's full, an' we're workin' 'em good an' plenty." The man +paused. "'Bout more saw beds an' rollers," he went on a moment later. +"Ther' ain't an inch o' space, boss. We'll hev to build." + +Dave shook his head and faced round from his desk. + +"There's no time. You'll have to take out the gang saws and replace +them for log trimming." + +Dawson spat into the spittoon. He eyed the ugly, powerful young +features of his boss speculatively while he made a swift mental +calculation. + +"That'll mebbe give us eight thousand more. 'Tain't enough, I guess," +he said emphatically. "Say, there's that mill up river. Her as belongs +to Jim Truscott. If we had her runnin' I 'lows we'd handle twenty-five +thousand on a day and night shift. Givin' us fifty all told." + +Dave's eyes lit. + +"I've thought of that," he said. "That'll put us up with a small +margin. I'll see what can be done. How are the new boys making? I've +had a good report from Mason up on No. 1 camp. He's transferred his +older hands to new camps, and has the new men with him. He's started to +cut on Section 80. His estimate is ten million in the stump on that +cut; all big stuff. He's running a big saw-gang up there. The roads +were easy making and good for travoying, and most of the timber is +within half a mile of the river. We don't need to worry about the +'drive.' He's got the stuff plenty, and all the 'hands' he needs. It's +the mill right here that's worrying." + +Dawson took a fresh chew. + +"Yes, it's the mill, I guess," he said slowly. "That an' this yer +strike. We're goin' to feel it--the strike, I mean. The engineers and +firemen are going 'out,' I hear, sure." + +"That doesn't hit us," said Dave sharply. But there was a keen look of +inquiry in his eyes. + +"Don't it?" Dawson raised his shaggy eyebrows. + +"Our stuff is merely to be placed on board here. The government will +see to its transport." + +The foreman shook his head. + +"What o' them firemen an' engineers in the mill? Say, they're mostly +union men, an'----" + +"I see." Dave became thoughtful. + +"Guess that ain't the only trouble neither," Dawson went on, warming. +"Strikes is hell-fire anyways. Ther' ain't no stoppin' 'em when they +git good an' goin'. Ther's folk who'd hate work wuss'n pizin when +others, of a different craft, are buckin'. I hate strikes, anyway, an' +I'll feel a sight easier when the railroaders quits." + +"You're alarming yourself without need," Dave said easily, closing his +books and rising from his seat. "Guess I'll get to supper. And see you +remember I look to you to shove her. Are you posting the 'tally'?" + +"Sure. They're goin' up every shift." + +A few minutes later the foreman took his departure to hand over to +Simon Odd, who ran the mills at night. Dave watched him go. Then, +instead of going off to his supper, he sat down again. + +Dawson's warning was not without its effect on him, in spite of the +easy manner in which he had set it aside. If his mills were to be +affected by the strike it would be the worst disaster that could +befall--short of fire. To find himself with millions of feet coming +down the river on the drive and no possibility of getting it cut would +mean absolute ruin. Yes, it was a nasty thought. A thought so +unpleasant that he promptly set it aside and turned his attention to +more pleasant matters. + +One of the most pleasant that occurred to him was the condition of +things in the village. Malkern had already begun to boom as the first +result of his sudden burst of increased work. Outside capital was +coming in for town plots, and several fresh buildings were going up. +Addlestone Chicks, the dry-goods storekeeper, was extending his +premises to accommodate the enormous increase in his trade. Two more +saloons were being considered, both to be built by men from Calford, +and the railroad had promised two mails a day instead of one. + +Dave thought of these things with the satisfaction of a man who is +steadily realizing his ambitions. It only needed his success for +prosperity to come automatically to the village in the valley. That was +it, his success. This thought brought to his mind again the matter of +Jim Truscott's mill, and this, again, set him thinking of Jim himself. + +He had seen nothing of Jim since his meeting with him on the bridge, +and the memory of that meeting was a dark shadow in his recollection. +Since that time two days had passed, two days spent in arduous labor, +when there had been no time for more than a passing thought for +anything else. He had seen no one outside of his mills. He had seen +neither Betty nor her uncle; no one who could tell him how matters were +going with the prodigal. He felt somehow that he had been neglectful, +he felt that he had wrongfully allowed himself to be swamped in the +vortex of the whirling waters of his labors. He had purposely shut out +every other consideration. + +Now his mind turned upon Betty, and he suddenly decided to take half an +hour's respite and visit Harley-Smith's saloon. He felt that this would +be the best direction in which to seek Jim Truscott. Five years ago it +would have been different. + +He rose from his seat and stretched his cumbersome body. Young as he +was, he felt stiff. His tremendous effort was making itself felt. +Picking up his pipe he lit it, and as he dropped the charred end of the +match in the spittoon a knock came at the door. It opened in answer to +his call, and in the half-light of the evening he recognized the very +man whom he had just decided to seek. + +It was Jim Truscott who stood in the doorway peering into the darkened +room. And at last his searching eyes rested on the enormous figure of +the lumberman. Dave was well in the shadow, and what light came in +through the window fell full upon the newcomer's face. + +In the brief silence he had a good look at him. He saw that now he was +clean-shaven, that his hair had been trimmed, that his clothes were +good and belonged to the more civilized conditions of city life. He was +good-looking beyond a doubt; a face, he thought, to catch a young +girl's fancy. There was something romantic in the dark setting of the +eyes, the keen aquiline nose, the broad forehead. It was only the lower +part of the face that he found fault with. There was that vicious +weakness about the mouth and chin, and it set him pondering. There were +the marks of dissipation about the eyes too, only now they were a +hundredfold more pronounced. Where before the rounded cheeks had once +so smoothly sloped away, now there were puffings, with deep, +unwholesome furrows which, in a man of his age, had no right to be +there. + +Jim was the first to speak, and his manner was almost defiant. + +"Well?" he ejaculated. + +"Well?" responded Dave; and the newly-opened waters suddenly froze over +again. + +They measured each other, eye to eye. Both had the memory of their +meeting two days ago keenly alive in their thought. Finally Jim broke +into a laugh that sounded harshly. + +"After five years' absence your cordiality is overwhelming," he said. + +"I seem to remember meeting you on the bridge two days ago," retorted +Dave. + +Then he turned to his desk and lit the lamp. The mill siren hooted out +its mournful cry. Its roar was deafening, and answered as an excuse for +the silence which remained for some moments between the two men. When +the last echo had died out Truscott spoke again. Evidently he had +availed himself of those seconds to decide on a more conciliatory +course. + +"That's nerve-racking," he said lightly. + +"Yes, if your nerves aren't in the best condition," replied Dave. Then +he indicated a chair and both men seated themselves. + +Truscott made himself comfortable and lit a cigar. + +"Well, Dave," he said pleasantly, "after five years I return here to +find everybody talking of you, of your work, of the fortune you are +making, of the prosperity of the village--which, by the way, is +credited to your efforts. You are the man of the moment in the valley; +you are it!" + +Dave nodded. + +"Things are doing." + +"Doing, man! Why, it's the most wonderful thing. I leave a little dozy +village, and I come back to a town thrilling with a magnificent +prosperity, with money in plenty for everybody, and on every hand talk +of investment, and dreams of fortunes to be made. I'm glad I came. I'm +glad I left that benighted country of cold and empty stomachs and +returned to this veritable Tom Tiddler's ground. I too intend to share +in the prosperity you have brought about. Dave, you are a wonder." + +"I thought you'd come to talk of other matters," said Dave quietly. + +His words had ample effect. The enthusiasm dropped from the other like +a cloak. His face lost its smile, and his eyes became watchful. + +"You mean----" + +"Betty," said Dave shortly. + +Truscott stirred uneasily. Dave's directness was a little +disconcerting. Suddenly the latter leant forward in his chair, and his +steady eyes held his visitor. + +"Five years ago, Jim, you went away, and, going, you left Betty to my +care--for you. That child has always been in my thoughts, and though +I've never had an opportunity to afford her the protection you asked of +me, it has not been my fault. She has never once needed it. You went +away to make money for her, so that when you came back you could marry +her. I remember our meeting two days ago, and it's not my intention to +say a thing of it. I have been so busy since then that I have seen +nobody who could tell me of either her or you, so I know nothing of how +your affairs stand. But if you've anything to say on the matter now I'm +prepared to listen. Did you make good up there in the Yukon?" + +Dave's tone was the tone Truscott had always known. It was kindly, it +was strong with honesty and purpose. He felt easier for it, and his +relief sounded in his reply. + +"I can't complain," he said, settling himself more comfortably in his +chair. + +"I'm glad," said Dave simply. "I was doubtful of the experiment, +but--well, I'm glad. And----?" + +Suddenly Jim sprang to his feet and began to pace the room. Dave +watched him. He was reading him. He was studying the nervous movements, +and interpreting them as surely as though their meaning were written +large in the plainest lettering. It was the same man he had known five +years ago--the same, only with a difference. He beheld the weakness he +had realized before, but now, where there had been frank honesty in all +his movements and expressions, there was a furtive undercurrent which +suggested only too clearly the truth of the stories told about him. + +"Dave," he burst out at last, coming to a sudden stand in front of him. +"I've come to you about Betty. I've come to you to tell you all the +regret I have at that meeting of ours on the bridge, and all I said at +the time. I want to tell you that I'm a rotten fool and blackguard. +That I haven't been near Betty since I came back. I was to have gone to +tea that afternoon, and didn't do so because I got blind drunk instead, +and when her uncle came to fetch me I told him to go to hell, and +insulted him in a dozen ways. I want to tell you that while I was away +I practically forgot Betty, I didn't care for her any longer, that I +scarcely even regarded our engagement as serious. I feel I must tell +you this. And now it is all changed. I have seen her and I want her. I +love her madly, and--and I have spoiled all my chances. She'll never +speak to me again. I am a fool and a crook--an utter wrong 'un, but I +want her. I must have her!" + +The man paused breathlessly. His words carried conviction. His manner +was passion-swept There could be no doubt as to his sincerity, or of +the truth of the momentary remorse conveyed in his self-accusation. + +Dave's teeth shut tight upon his pipe-stem. + +"And you did all that?" he inquired with a tenseness that made his +voice painfully harsh. + +"Yes, yes, I did. Dave, you can't say any harder things to me than I've +said to myself. When I drink there's madness in my blood that drives me +where it will." + +The other suddenly rose from his seat and towered over him. The look on +his rugged face was one of mastery. His personality dominated Truscott +at that moment in a manner that made him shrink before his steady, +luminous eyes. + +"How've you earned your living?" he demanded sharply. + +"I'm a gambler," came Jim's uneasy reply, the truth forced from him +against his will. + +"You're a drunkard and a crook?" + +"I'm a fool. I told you." + +Dave accepted the admission. + +"Then for God's sake get out of this village, and write and release +Betty from her engagement. You say you love her. Prove it by releasing +her, and be a man." + +Dave's voice rang out deep with emotion. At that moment he was thinking +of Betty, and not of the man before him. He was not there to judge him, +his only thought was of the tragedy threatening the girl. + +Truscott had suddenly become calm, and his eyes had again assumed that +furtive watchfulness as he looked up into the larger man's face. He +shook his head. + +"I can't give her up," he said obstinately, after a pause. + +Dave sat down again, watching the set, almost savage expression of the +other's face. The position was difficult; he was not only dealing with +this man, but with a woman whose sense of duty and honor was such that +left him little hope of settling the matter as he felt it should be +settled. Finally he decided to appeal again to the man's better nature. + +"Jim," he said solemnly, "you come here and confess yourself a crook, +and, if not a drunkard, at least a man with a bad tendency that way. +You say you love Betty, in spite of having forgotten her while you were +away. On your conscience I ask you, can you wilfully drag this girl, +who has known only the purest, most innocent, and God-fearing life, +into the path you admit you have been, are treading? Can you drag her +down with you? Can you in your utter selfishness take her from a home +where she is surrounded by all that can keep a woman pure and good? I +don't believe it. That is not the Jim I used to know. Jim, take it from +me, there is only one decent course open to you, one honest one. Leave +her alone, and go from here yourself. You have no right to her so long +as your life is what it is." + +"But my life is going to be that no longer," Truscott broke in with +passionate earnestness. "Dave, help me out in this. For God's sake, do. +It will be the making of me. I have money now, and I want to get rid of +the old life. I, too, want to be decent. I do. I swear it. Give me this +chance to straighten myself. I know your influence with her. You can +get her to excuse that lapse. She will listen to you. My God! Dave, you +don't know how I love that girl." + +While the lumberman listened his heart hardened. He understood the +selfishness, the weakness underlying this man's passion. He understood +more than that, Betty was no longer the child she was five years ago, +but a handsome woman of perfect moulding. And, truth to tell, he felt +this sudden reawakening of the man's passion was not worthy of the name +of the love he claimed for it, but rather belonged to baser +inspiration. But his own feelings prevented his doing what he would +like to have done. He felt that he ought to kick the man out of his +office, and have him hunted out of the village. But years ago he had +given his promise of help, and a promise was never a light thing with +him. And besides that, he realized his own love for Betty, and could +not help fearing that his judgment was biassed by it. In the end he +gave the answer which from the first he knew he must give. + +"If you mean that," he said coldly, "I will do what I can for you." + +Jim's face lit, and he held out his hand impulsively. + +"Thanks, Dave," he cried, his whole face clearing and lighting up as if +by magic. "You're a bully friend. Shake!" + +But the other ignored the outstretched hand. Somehow he felt he could +no longer take it in friendship. Truscott saw the coldness in his eyes, +and instantly drew his hand away. He moved toward the door. + +"Will you see her to-night?" he asked over his shoulder. + +"I can't say. You'll probably hear from her." + +At the door the man turned, and Dave suddenly recollected something. + +"Oh, by the way," he said, still in his coldest manner, "I'd like to +buy that old mill of yours--or lease it. I don't mind which. How much +do you want for it?" + +Jim flashed a sharp glance at him. + +"My old mill?" Then he laughed peculiarly. "What do you want with that?" + +The other considered for a moment. + +"My mill hasn't sufficient capacity," he said at last. "You see, my +contract is urgent. It must be completed before winter shuts +down--under an enormous penalty. We are getting a few thousand a day +behind on my calculations. Your mill will put me right, with a margin +to spare against accidents." + +"I see." And the thoughtfulness of Truscott's manner seemed +unnecessary. He avoided Dave's eyes. "You're under a penalty, eh? I +s'pose the government are a hard crowd to deal with?" + +Dave nodded. + +"If I fail it means something very like--ruin," he said, almost as +though speaking to himself. + +Truscott whistled. + +"Pretty dangerous, traveling so near the limit," he said. + +"Yes. Well? What about the mill?" + +"I must think it over. I'll let you know." + +He turned and left the office without another word, and Dave stared +after him, speechless with surprise and disgust. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +AT THE CHURCH BAZAAR + + +Two days later brought Tom Chepstow's church bazaar. Dave had not yet +had the opportunity of interceding with Betty and her uncle on behalf +of Jim, but to-day he meant to fulfil his obligations as Tom's chief +supporter in church affairs, and, at the same time, to do what he could +for the man he had promised to help. + +The whole morning the valley was flooded with a tremendous summer +deluge. It was just as though the heavens had opened and emptied their +waters upon the earth. Dave viewed the prospect with no very friendly +eye. He knew the summer rains only too well; the possibilities of flood +were well grounded, and just now he had no desire to see the river rise +higher than it was at present. Still, as yet there was no reason for +alarm. This was the first rain, and the glass was rising. + +By noon the clouds broke, and the barometer's promise was fulfilled, so +that, by the time he had clad himself in his best broadcloth, he left +his office under a radiant sky. In spite of the wet under foot it was a +delight to be abroad. The air was fresh and sparkling; the dripping +trees seemed to be studded with thousands of diamonds as the poising +rain-drops glistened in the blazing sun. The valley rang with the music +of the birds, and the health-giving scent of the pine woods was wafted +upon the gentlest of zephyrs. Dave's soul was in perfect sympathy with +the beauties about him. To him there could be no spot on God's earth so +fair and beautiful as this valley. + +Passing the mill on his way out of the yards he was met by Joel Dawson, +whose voice greeted him with a note of satisfaction in it. + +"She's goin' full, boss," he said. "We set the last saws in her this +mornin' an' she's steaming hard. Ther' ain't nothin' idle. Ther' ain't +a' band' or 'gang' left in her." + +And Dave without praise expressed his satisfaction at the rapidity with +which his orders had been carried out. This was his way. Dawson was an +excellent foreman, and his respect for his "boss" was largely based on +the latter's capacity to extract work out of his men. While praise +might have been pleasant to him, it would never have fallen in with his +ideas of how the mills should be run. His pride was in the work, and to +keep his respect at concert pitch it was necessary that he should feel +that his "boss" was rather favoring him by entrusting to him the more +important part of the work. + +Dave passed out of the yards certain that nothing would be neglected in +his absence. If things went wrong Dawson would receive no more +consideration than a common lumber-jack, and Dawson had no desire to +receive his "time." + +The Meeting House stood slightly apart from the rest of the village. It +was a large, staring frame building, void of all pretentiousness and +outward devotional sign. The weather-boarding was painted; at least, it +had been. But the winter snows had long since robbed it of its original +terra-cotta coloring and left its complexion a drab neutral tint. The +building stood bare, with no encompassing fence, and its chief +distinctive features were a large doorway, a single row of windows set +at regular intervals, and a pitched roof. + +As Dave drew near he saw a considerable gathering of men and horses +about the doorway and tie-post. He was greeted cordially as he came up. +These men were unfeignedly glad to see him, not only because he was +popular, but in the hopes that he would show more courage than they +possessed, and lead the way within to the feminine webs being woven for +their enmeshing. + +He chatted for some moments, then, as no one seemed inclined to leave +the sunshine for the tempting baits so carefully set out inside the +building, he turned to Jenkins Mudley-- + +"Are you fellows scared of going in?" he inquired, with his large laugh. + +Jenkins shook his head shamefacedly, while Harley-Smith, loud and +vulgar, with a staring diamond pin gleaming in his necktie, answered +for him. + +"'Tain't that," he said. "His wife's kind o' dep'ty for him. She's in +ther' with his dollars." + +"And you?" Dave turned on him quickly. + +"Me? Oh, I ain't no use for them cirkises. Too much tea an' cake an' +kiddies to it for me. Give me a few of the 'jacks' around an' I kind o' +feel it homely." + +"Say, they ain't got a table for 'draw' in there, have they?" inquired +Checks facetiously. "That's what Harley-Smith needs." + +Dave smilingly shook his head. + +"I don't think there's any gambling about this--unless it's the bran +tub. But that is scarcely a gamble. It's a pretty sure thing you get +bested over it. Still, there might be a raffle, or an auction. How +would that do you, Harley-Smith?" + +The saloon-keeper laughed boisterously. He liked being the object of +interest; he liked being noticed so much by Dave. It tickled his vulgar +vanity. But, to his disappointment, the talk was suddenly shifted into +another channel by Checks. The dry-goods merchant turned to Dave with +very real interest. + +"Talking of 'draw,'" he said pointedly, "you know that shanty right +opposite me. It's been empty this year an' more. Who was it lived +there? Why, the Sykeses, sure. You know it, it's got a shingle roof, +painted red." + +"Yes, I know," replied Dave. "It belongs to me. I let Sykes live there +because there wasn't another house available at the time. I used to +keep it as a storehouse." + +"Sure, that's it," exclaimed Checks. "Well, there's some one running a +game there at night. I've seen the boys going in, and it's been lit up. +Some guy is running a faro bank, or something of the sort. My wife +swears it's young Jim Truscott. She's seen him going in for the last +two nights. She says he's always the first one in and the last to +leave." + +"Psha!" Jenkins Mudley exclaimed, with fine scorn. "Jim ain't no +gambler. I'd bet it's some crook in from Calford. There's lots of that +kidney coming around, seeing the place is on the boom. The bees allus +gets around wher' the honey's made." + +"Grows," suggested Checks amiably. + +Harley-Smith laughed loudly. + +"Say, bully for you," he cried sarcastically. "Young Jim ain't no +gambler? Gee! I've see him take a thousand of the best bills out of the +boys at 'craps' right there in my bar. Gambler? Well, I'd snigger!" + +And he illustrated his remark loudly and long. + +Dave had dropped out of the conversation at the mention of Jim +Truscott's name. He felt that he had nothing to say. And he hoped to +avoid being again brought into it. But Jenkins had purposely told him. +Jenkins was a rigid churchman, and he knew that Dave was also a strong +supporter of Parson Tom's. His wife had been very scandalized at the +opening of a gambling house directly opposite their store, and he felt +it incumbent upon him to fall in with her views. Therefore he turned +again to Dave. + +"Well, what about it, Dave?" he demanded. "What are you going to do?" + +The lumberman looked him straight in the eye and smiled. + +"Do? Why, what all you fellows seem to be scared to do. I'm going into +this bazaar to do my duty by the church. I'm going to hand them all my +spare dollars, and if there's any change coming, I'll take it in +dry-goods." + +But the lightness of his tone and smile had no inspiration from his +mood. He was angry; he was disappointed. So this was the worth of Jim's +promises! This was the man who, in a perfect fever of passion, had said +that the old life of gambling and debauchery was finished for him. And +yet he had probably left his (Dave's) office and gone straight to a +night of heavy gaming, and, if Checks were right, running a faro bank. +He knew only too well what that meant. No man who had graduated as a +gambler in such a region as the Yukon was likely to run a faro bank +straight. + +Then a light seemed to flash through his brain, and of a sudden he +realized something that fired the blood in his veins and set his pulses +hammering feverishly. For the moment it set his thoughts chaotic; he +could not realize anything quite clearly. One feeling thrilled him, one +wild hope. Then, with stern self-repression, he took hold of himself. +This was neither time nor place for such weakness, he told himself. He +knew what it was. For the moment he had let himself get out of hand. He +had for so long regarded Betty as belonging to Jim; he had for so long +shut her from his own thoughts and only regarded her from an impersonal +point of view, that it had never occurred to him, until that instant, +that there was a possibility of her engagement to Jim ever falling +through. + +This was what had so suddenly stirred him. Now, actuated by his sense +of duty and honor, he thrust these things aside. His loyalty to the +girl, the strength of his great love for her, would not, even for a +moment, permit him to think of himself. Five years ago he had said +good-bye to any hopes and thoughts such as these. On that day he had +struggled with himself and won. He was not going to destroy the effects +of that victory by any selfish thought now. His love for the girl was +there, nothing could alter that. It would remain there, deep down in +his heart, dormant but living. But it was something more than a mere +human passion, it was something purer, loftier; something that +crystallized the human clay of his thought into the purest diamonds of +unselfishness. + +In the few moments that it took him to pass into the Meeting House and +launch himself upon his task of furthering the cause of Tom Chepstow's +church, his mind cleared. He could not yet see the line of action he +must take if the gossip of Mr. Addlestone Checks were true. But one +thing was plain, that gossip must not influence him until its truth +were established. Just as he was seized upon by at least half a dozen +of the women who had wares to sell, and were bent on morally picking +his pockets, he had arrived at his decision. + +The hall was ablaze with colored stuffs. There were festoons and +banners, and rosettes and evergreen. Every bare corner was somehow +concealed. There were drapings of royal blue and staring white, and +sufficient bunting to make a suit of flags for a war-ship. + +All the seats and benches had been removed, and round the walls had +been erected the stalls and booths of the saleswomen. One end of the +room was given up to a platform, on which, in the evening, the most +select of the local vocalists would perform. Beside this was a bran +tub, where one could have a dip for fifty cents and be sure of winning +a prize worth at least five. Then there was a fortune-telling booth on +the opposite side, presided over by a local beauty, Miss Eva Wade, +whose father was a small rancher just outside the valley. This +institution was eyed askance by many of the women. They were not sure +that fortune-telling could safely be regarded as strictly moral. Parson +Tom was responsible for its inception, and his lean shoulders were +braced to bear the consequences. + +Dave was by no means new to church bazaars. Any one living in a small +western village must have considerable experience of such things. They +are a form of taxation much in favor, and serve multifarious purposes. +They are at once a pleasant social function where young people can +safely meet under the matronly eye; they keep all in close touch with +religion; they give the usually idle something to think of and work +for, and the busy find them an addition to their burdens. They create a +sort of central bureau for the exchange of scandal, and a ready market +for trading useless articles to people who do not desire to purchase, +but having purchased feel that the moral sacrifice they have made is at +least one step in the right direction to make up for many backslidings +in the past. + +Dave doubtless had long since considered all this. But he saw and +appreciated the purpose underlying it. He knew Tom Chepstow to be a +good man, and though he had little inspiration as a churchman, he +spared no pains in his spiritual labors, and the larger portion of his +very limited stipend went in unobtrusive charity. No sick bed ever went +uncheered by his presence, and no poor ever went without warm clothing +and wholesome food in the terrible Canadian winter so long as he had +anything to give. Therefore Dave had come well provided with money, +which he began at once to spend with hopeless prodigality. + +The rest of the men followed in the lumberman's wake, and soon the +bustle and noise waxed furious. They all bought indiscriminately. Dave +started on Mrs. Checks' "gentlemen's outfitters" stall. His heart +rejoiced when he sighted a pile of handkerchiefs which the lady had +specially made for him, and which she now thrust at him with an +exorbitant price marked upon them. He bought them all. He bought a +number of shirts he could not possibly have worn. He bought +underclothing that wouldn't have been a circumstance on his cumbersome +figure. He passed on to Louisa Mudley's millinery stall and bought +several hats, which he promptly shed upon the various women in his +vicinity. He did his duty royally, and bought dozens of things which he +promptly gave away. And his attentions in this matter were quite +impartial. He did it with the air of some great good-natured schoolboy +that set everybody delighted with him, with themselves, with +everything; and the bazaar, as a result, went with a royal, prosperous +swing. Here, as in his work, his personality carried with it the magic +of success. + +At last he reached Betty's stall. She was presiding over a hideous +collection of cheap bric-à-brac. With her usual unselfishness and +desire to promote harmony amongst the workers, and so help the success +of the bazaar, she had sacrificed herself on the altar of duty by +taking charge of the most unpopular stall. Nobody wanted the goods she +had to sell; consequently Dave found her deserted. She smiled up at him +a little pathetically as he came over to her. + +"Are you coming as a friend or as a customer? Most of the visits I have +received have been purely friendly." She laughed, but Dave could see +that the natural spirit of rivalry was stirred, and she was a little +unhappy at the rush of business going on everywhere but at her stall. + +"I come as both," he said, with that air of frank kindliness so +peculiarly his own. + +The girl's eyes brightened. + +"Then let's get to work on the customer part of your visit first," she +said at once; "the other can wait. Now here I have a nice plate. You +can hang it in your office on the wall. You see it's already wired. It +might pass for old Worcester if you don't let in too much light. But +there, you never have your windows washed, do you? Then I have," she +hurried on, turning to other articles, "this. This is a shell--at least +I suppose it is," she added naïvely. "And this is a Toby jug; and this +is a pipe-rack; this is for matches; this is for a whisk brush; and +these two vases, they're real fine. Look at them. Did you ever see such +colors? No, and I don't suppose anybody else ever did." She laughed, +and Dave joined in her laugh. + +But her laugh suddenly died out. The man heard a woman, only a few feet +away, mention Jim Truscott's name, and he knew that Betty had heard it +too. He knew that her smiling chatter, which had seemed so gay, so +irresponsible, had all been pretense, a pretense which had suddenly +been swept aside at the mere mention of Jim's name. At that moment he +felt he could have taken the man up in his two strong hands and +strangled him. However, he allowed his feelings no display, but at once +took up the challenge of the saleswoman. + +"Say, Betty, there's just one thing in the world I'm crazy about: it's +bits of pots and things such as you've got on your stall. It seems like +fate you should be running this stall. Now just get right to it, and +fetch out some tickets--a heap of 'em--and write 'sold' on 'em, and +dump 'em on all you like. How much for the lot?" + +"What do you mean, Dave?" the girl cried, her eyes wide and questioning. + +"How much? I don't want anybody else buying those things," Dave said +seriously. "I want 'em all." + +Betty's eyes softened almost to tears. + +"I can't let you do it, Dave," she said gently. "Not all. Some." + +But the man was not to be turned from his purpose. + +"I want 'em all," he said doggedly. "Here. Here's two hundred dollars. +That'll cover it." He laid four bills of fifty dollars each on the +stall. "There," he added, "you can sell 'em over again if any of the +boys want to buy." + +Betty was not sure which she wanted to do, cry or laugh. However, she +finally decided on the latter course. Dave's simple contradiction was +quite too much for her. + +"You're the most refreshing old simpleton I ever knew," she said. "But +I'll take your money--for the church," she added, as though endeavoring +to quiet her conscience. + +Dave sighed in relief. + +"Well, that's that. Now we come to the friendly side of my visit," he +said. "I've got a heap to say to you. Jim Truscott's been to me." + +He made his statement simply, and waited. But no comment was +forthcoming. Betty was stooping over a box, collecting cards to place +on the articles on her stall. Presently she looked up, and her look was +an invitation for him to go on. + +The man's task was not easy. It would have been easy enough had he not +spoken with Checks outside, but now it was all different. He had +promised his help, but in giving it he had no clear conscience. + +He propped himself against the side-post of her stall, and his weight +set the structure shaking perilously. + +"I've often wondered, Betty," he said, in a rumbling, confidential +tone, "if there ever was a man, or for that matter a woman, who really +understood human nature. We all think we know a lot about it. We size +up a man, and we reckon he's good, bad, or indifferent, and if our +estimate happens to prove, we pat ourselves, and hold our heads a shade +higher, and feel sorry for those who can't read a man as easy as we +can." + +Betty nodded while she stuck some "Sold" cards about her stall. + +"A locomotive's a great proposition, so long as it's on a set track. +It's an all-fired nuisance without. Guess a locomotive can do +everything it shouldn't when it gets loose of its track. My word, I'd +hate to be around with a loco up to its fool-tricks, running loose in a +city. Seems to me that's how it is with human nature." + +Betty's brown eyes were thoughtfully contemplating the man's ugly +features. + +"I suppose you mean we all need a track to run on?" + +"Why, yes," Dave went on, brightening. "Some of us start out in life +with a ready-made track, with 'points' we can jump if we've a notion. +Some of us have a track without 'points,' so there's no excuse for +getting off it. Some of us have to lay down our own track, and keep +right on it, building it as we go. That's the hardest. We're bound to +have some falls. You see there's so much ballasting needed, the +ground's so mighty bumpy. I seem to know a deal about that sort of +track. I've had to build mine, and I've fallen plenty. Sometimes it's +been hard picking myself up, and I've been bruised and sore often. +Still, I've got up, and I don't seem no worse for falling." + +Betty's eyes were smiling softly. + +"But _you_ picked yourself up, Dave, didn't you?" she asked gently. + +"Well--not always. You see, I've got a mother. She's helped a whole +heap. You see, she's mostly all my world, and I used to hate to hurt +her by letting her see me down. She kind of thinks I'm the greatest +proposition ever, and it tickles my vanity. I want her to go on +thinking it, as it keeps me hard at work building that track. And now, +through her, I've been building so long that it comes easier, and +thinking of her makes me hang on so tight I don't get falling around +now. There's other fellows haven't got a mother, or--you see, I've +always had her with me. That's where it comes in. Now, if she'd been +away from me five years, when I was very young; you see----" + +Dave broke off clumsily. He was floundering in rough water. He knew +what he wanted to say, but words were not too easy to him. + +"Poor Jim!" murmured Betty softly. + +Dave's eyes were on her in a moment. Her manner was somehow different +from what he had expected. There was sympathy and womanly tenderness in +her voice; but he had expected---- Then his thoughts went back to the +time when they had spoken of Jim on the bridge. And, without knowing +why, his pulses quickened, and a warmth of feeling swept over him. + +"Poor Jim!" he said, after a long pause, during which his pulses had +steadied and he had become master of his feelings again. "He's fallen a +lot, and I'm not sure it's all his fault. He always ran straight when +he was here. He was very young to go away to a place like the Yukon. +Maybe--maybe you could pick him up; maybe you could hold him to that +track, same as mother did for me?" + +Betty was close beside him. She had moved out of her stall and was now +looking up into his earnest face. + +"Does he want me to?" she asked wistfully. "Do _you_ think I can help +him?" + +The man's hands clenched tightly. For a moment he struggled. + +"You can," he said at last. "He wants you; he wants your help. He loves +you so, he's nearly crazy." + +The girl gazed up at him with eyes whose question the man tried but +failed to read. It was some seconds before her lips opened to speak +again. + +But her words never came. At that moment Addlestone Checks hurried up +to them. He drew Dave sharply on one side. His manner was mysterious +and important, and his face wore a look of outraged piety. + +"Something's got to be done," he said in a stage whisper. "It's the +most outrageous thing I've seen in years. Right here--right here in the +house where the parson preaches the Word! It sure is enough to set it +shakin' to its foundation. Drunk! That's what he is--roarin', flamin', +fightin' drunk! You must do something. It's up to you." + +"What do you mean? Who is drunk?" cried Dave, annoyed at the man's +Pharisaical air. + +Before he could get a reply there was a commotion at the far end of the +bazaar. Voices were raised furiously, and everybody had flocked in that +direction. Once Dave thought he heard Chepstow's voice raised in +protest. Betty ran to his side directly the tumult began. + +"Oh, Dave, what's the matter down there? I thought I heard Jim's voice?" + +"So you did, Miss Betty," cried Checks, with sanctimonious spleen. "So +you did--the drunken----" + +"Shut up, or I'll break your neck!" cried Dave, threatening him +furiously. + +The dry-goods dealer staggered back just as Betty's hand was gently, +but firmly, laid on Dave's upraised arm. + +"Don't bother, Dave," she said piteously. "I've seen him. Oh, +Jim--Jim!" And she covered her face with her hands. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +IN DAVE'S OFFICE + + +It was the day after the bazaar. Betty had just returned home from her +school for midday dinner. She was sitting at the open window, waiting +while her aunt set the meal. The cool green of the wild-cucumbers +covering the veranda tempered the blistering summer heat which +oppressed the valley. The girl was looking out upon the village below +her, at the woodland slopes opposite, at the distant narrowing of the +mighty walls which bounded her world, but she saw none of these things. +She saw nothing of the beauty, the gracious foliage, the wonderful +sunlight she loved. Her gaze was introspective. She saw only the +pictures her thoughts conjured up. + +They were not pleasant pictures either, but they were absorbing. She +knew that she had arrived at a crisis in her life. The scene she had +witnessed at the bazaar was still burning in her brain. The shame stung +and revolted her. The horror of it was sickening. Jim's disgrace was +complete; yet, in spite of it, she could not help remembering Dave's +appeal for him. + +He had said that Jim needed her more than ever now, and the thought +made her uneasy, and her tender heart urged her in a direction she knew +she must not take. It was so easy for her to condemn, she who knew +nothing of temptation. And yet her position was so utterly impossible. +Jim had been in the village all this time and had not been near her, +that is except on this one occasion, when he was drunk. He was +evidently afraid to come near her. He was a coward, and she hated +cowards. + +He had even persuaded Dave to intercede for him. She smiled as she +thought of it. But her smile was for Dave, and not at the other's +display of cowardice. It was not a smile of amusement either. She only +smiled at the absurdity of Dave pleading for one whom he knew to be +wholly unworthy. It was the man's large heart, she told herself. And +almost in the same breath she found herself resenting his kindly +interference, and wishing he would mind his own business. Why should he +be always thinking of others? Why should he not think sometimes of +himself? + +Her dreaming now became of Dave alone, and she found herself reviewing +his life as she knew it. Her eyes grew tender, and she basked in the +sunlight of a world changed to pleasant thought. His ugliness no longer +troubled her--she no longer saw it. She saw only the spirit inside the +man, and somehow his roughnesses of voice, manner and appearance seemed +a wholly fitting accompaniment to it. Her thoughts of Jim had gone from +her entirely. The crisis which she was facing had receded into the +shadows. Dave became her dominant thought, and she started when her +uncle's voice suddenly broke in upon her reverie. + +"Betty," he said, coming up behind her and laying one lean hand upon +her rounded shoulder, "I haven't had time to speak to you about it +since the bazaar, but now I want to tell you that you can have nothing +more to do with young Truscott. He is a thorough-paced young scoundrel +and----" + +"You need say no more, uncle," the girl broke in bitterly. "You can +tell me nothing I do not already know of him." + +"Then I trust you will send him about his business at once," added her +aunt, who had entered the room bearing the dinner joint on a tray, just +in time to hear Betty's reply. + +Betty looked at her aunt's round, good-natured face. For once it was +cold and angry. From her she looked up at her uncle's, and the decision +she saw in his frank eyes left her no alternative but a direct reply. + +"I intend to settle everything this afternoon," she said simply. + +"In what way?" inquired her uncle sharply. + +Betty rose from her seat and crossed the room to her aunt's side. The +latter, having set the dinner, was waiting beside her chair ready to +sit down as soon as the matter should be settled. Betty placed her arm +about her stout waist, and the elder woman's face promptly relaxed. She +could never long keep up even a pretense of severity where Betty was +concerned. + +The girl promptly addressed herself to her uncle with all the frankness +of one assured of a sympathetic hearing. + +"You have always taught me, uncle dear, that duty must be my first +consideration in life," she began steadily. "I have tried to live up to +that, and it has possibly made my conscience a little over keen." Her +face clouded, but the clouds broke immediately, chased away by a +plaintive smile. "When Jim asked me to marry him five years ago I +believed I loved him. At one time I'm sure I did, in a silly, girlish +fashion. But soon after he went away I realized that a girlish +infatuation is not real love. This knowledge I tried to hide even from +myself. I would not believe it, and for a long time I almost managed to +convince myself. That was until Jim's letters became fewer and colder. +With his change I no longer attempted to conceal from myself the real +state of my own feelings. But even then my conscience wouldn't let me +alone. I had promised to wait for him, and I made up my mind that, come +what might, unless he made it impossible I would marry him." She +sighed. "Well, you know the rest. He has now made it impossible. What +his real feelings are for me," she went on with a pathetic smile, "I +have not had an opportunity of gauging. As you know, he has not been +near me. I shall now make it my business to see him this afternoon and +settle everything. My conscience isn't by any means easy about it, but +I intend to give him up." + +Her aunt squeezed her arm sympathetically, and her uncle nodded his +approval. + +"Where are you going to see him?" the latter asked. "You mustn't see +him alone." Then he burst out wrathfully, "He's a blackguard, and----" + +"No, no, uncle, don't say that," Betty interrupted him. "Surely he is +to be pitied. Remember him as he was. You cannot tell what temptations +have come his way." + +The parson's face cleared at once. His angry outbursts were always +short-lived. + +"I'm sorry, Betty," he said. "My dear, you shame me. I'm afraid that my +hasty temper is always leading to my undoing as a churchman." The +half-humorous smile which accompanied his words passed swiftly. "Where +are you going to see him?" he again demanded. + +"Down at Dave's office," the girl replied, after a moment's thought. + +"Eh?" Her uncle was startled; but Mary Chepstow smiled on her +encouragingly. + +"Yes, you see," she went on, "Dave had a good deal to do with--our +engagement--in a way, and----" + +"I'm glad Dave is going to help you through this business," said her +aunt, with a glance which effectually kept her husband silent. "He's a +dear fellow, and--let's have our dinner--it's nearly cold." + +Aunt Mary was not brilliant, she was not meddlesome, but she had all a +woman's intuition. She felt that enough had been said. And for some +obscure reason she was glad that Dave was to have a hand in this +matter. Nor had her satisfaction anything to do with the man's ability +to protect her niece from possible insult. + +That afternoon Dave received an unexpected visit. He was alone in his +office, clad for hard work, without coat, waistcoat, collar or tie. He +had no scruples in these matters. With all an American's love of +freedom he abandoned himself to all he undertook with a +whole-heartedness which could not tolerate even the restraint of what +he considered unnecessary clothing. And just now, in the terrific heat, +all these things were superfluous. + +Betty looked particularly charming as she hurried across the +lumber-yard. She was dressed in a spotless white cotton frock, and, +under her large sun-hat, her brown hair shone in the sunlight like +burnished copper. Without the least hesitation she approached the +office and knocked peremptorily on the door. + +The man inside grudgingly answered the summons. His books were +occupying all his attention, and his thoughts were filled with columns +of figures. But the moment he beheld the white, smiling vision the last +of his figures fled precipitately from his mind. + +"Why, come right in, little Betty," he cried, hastily setting the only +available chair for her. Then he bethought himself of his attire. "Say, +you might have let me know. Just half a minute and I'll fix myself up." + +But the girl instantly protested. "You'll do just as you are," she +exclaimed. "Now you look like a lumberman. And I like you best that +way." + +Dave grinned and sat down a little self-consciously. But Betty had no +idea of letting any conventionalities interfere with the matter she had +in hand. She was always direct, always single-minded, when her decision +was taken. She gave him no time to speculate as to the object of her +visit. + +"Dave," she began seriously, "I want you to do me a great favor." Then +she smiled. "As usual," she added. "I want you to send for Jim Truscott +and bring him here." + +Dave was on his feet in an instant and crossed to the door. The next +moment his voice roared out to one of his foremen. It was a shout that +could have been heard across his own milling floor with every saw +shrieking on the top of its work. + +He waited, and presently Simon Odd came hurrying across the yard. He +spoke to him outside, and then returned to the office. + +"He'll be along in a few minutes," he said. "I've sent Odd with the +buckboard." + +"Are you sure he'll come?" + +Dave smiled confidently. + +"I told Odd to bring him." + +"I hope he'll come willingly," the girl said, after a thoughtful pause. + +"So do I," observed Dave dryly. "Well, little girl?" + +Betty understood the inquiry, and looked him fearlessly in the eyes. + +"You sowed your wheat on barren soil, Dave," she said decidedly. "Your +appeal for Jim has borne no fruit." + +The man shifted his position. It was the only sign he gave. But the +fires were stirred into a sudden blaze, and his blood ran fiercely +through his veins. + +"That's not a heap like you, Betty," was all he said. + +"Isn't it?" The girl turned to the window. The dirt on the glass made +it difficult for her to see out of it, but she gazed at it steadily. + +"I suppose you'll think me a mean, heartless creature," she said +slowly. "You'll think little enough of my promises, and still less +of--of my loyalty." She paused. Then she raised her head and turned to +him again. "I cannot marry Jim. I cannot undertake his reformation. I +cannot give up my life to a man whom I now know I never really loved. I +know you will not understand. I know, only too well, your own lofty +spirit, your absolute unselfishness. I know that had you been in my +place you would have fulfilled your promise at any cost. But I can't. I +simply can't." + +"No." + +It was the man's only comment. But his mind was busy. He knew Betty so +well that he understood a great deal without asking questions. + +"Aunt Mary and uncle know my decision," the girl went on. "They know I +am here, and that I am going to see Jim in your presence. You see, I +thought if I sent for him to come to our house he might refuse. He +might insult uncle again. I thought, somehow, it would be different +with you." + +Dave nodded. + +"I don't blame your uncle and aunt for making you give him up," he +said. "I'd have done it in their place." + +"Yet you appealed for him?" + +Betty's eyes questioned him. + +"Sure, I promised to help him. That was before the bazaar." + +Suddenly Betty held out her hands with a little appealing movement. +Dave wanted to seize them and crush them in his own, but he did not +stir. + +"Tell me you don't think badly of me. Tell me you do not think me a +heartless, wretched woman. I have thought and thought, and prayed for +guidance. And now it seems to me I am a thoroughly wicked girl. But I +cannot--I must not marry him." + +The man rose abruptly from his seat. He could no longer look into her +troubled eyes and keep his own secret. When he spoke it was with his +back to her, as he made a pretense of filling his pipe at the tobacco +jar on the table. His voice was deep with emotion. + +"I thank God you've decided," he said. "You've done right by everybody. +And you've shown more courage refusing him than if you'd gone through +with your promise, because you've done it against your conscience. No, +little Betty," he went on, turning to her again with infinite kindness +in his steady eyes, "there's no one can call you heartless, or any +other cruel name--and--and they'd better not in my hearing," he +finished up clumsily. + +A few minutes later the rattle of buckboard wheels sounded outside, and +before Betty could reply Dave took the opportunity of going to the +door. Jim Truscott was standing outside with the gigantic Simon Odd +close behind him, much in the manner of a warder watching his prisoner. +The flicker of a smile came and went in the lumberman's eyes at the +sight. Then his attention was held by the anger he saw in Jim's +dissipated face. He was not a pleasant sight. His eyes were heavy and +bloodshot, and the lines about them were accentuated by his general +unwashed appearance. Even at that distance, as they stood there facing +each other, he caught the reek of stale brandy the man exhaled. His +clothes, too, had the appearance of having been flung on hurriedly, and +the shirt and collar he wore were plainly filthy. Altogether he was an +object for pity, and at the same time it was not possible to feel +anything for him but a profound repugnance. + +"He was abed," said the giant Odd, the moment Dave appeared. Then with +a complacent grin, "But he guessed he'd come right along when I told +him you was kind o' busy an' needed him important." + +But Jim's angry face flamed. + +"Nothing of the sort. This damned ruffian of yours dragged me out, +blast him." + +"Cut it!" Dave warned him sharply. "There's a lady here to see you. +Come right in." + +The warning had instant effect. Truscott stepped into the room and +stood face to face with Betty. Dave closed the door and stood aside. +For a few intense moments no word was spoken. The man stared stupidly +into the girl's unsmiling face; then he looked across at Dave. It was +Betty who finally broke the silence. + +"Well, Jim," she said kindly, "at last we meet." She noted all the +signs of dissipation in the young face, which, but a few years ago, had +been so fresh and clean and good-looking. Now it was so different, and, +to her woman's eyes, there was more than the mere outward signs. There +was a spirit looking out of his bloodshot eyes that she did not +recognize. It was as though the soul of the man had changed; it had +degenerated to a lower grade. There was something unwholesome in his +expression, as though some latent brutality had been stirred into life, +and had obliterated every vestige of that clean, boyish spirit that had +once been his. + +"And," she went on, as he remained silent, "you had to be cajoled into +coming to see me." + +Still the man did not speak. Whether it was shame that held him silent +it was impossible to tell. Probably not, for there was a steadily +growing light in his eyes that suggested thoughts of anything but of a +moral tone. He was held by her beauty--he was held as a man is +sometimes held by some ravishing vision that appeals to his lower +senses. He lost no detail of her perfect woman's figure, the seductive +contours so wonderfully moulded. His eyes drank in the sight, and it +set his blood afire. + +Dave never turned his eyes. He too was watching. And he understood, and +resented, the storm that was lashing through the man's veins. + +"Have you nothing to say to me after these long years?" the girl asked +again, forced to break the desperate silence. Then the woman in her +found voice, "Oh! Jim, Jim! the pity of it. And I thought you so +strong." + +Dave clenched his hands at his sides, but made no other movement. Then +Betty's manner suddenly changed. All the warmth died out of her voice, +and, mistress of herself again, she went straight to her object. + +"Jim, it was I who sent for you. I asked Dave to do this for me." + +"A word from you would have been enough," the man said, with a sudden +fire that lost nothing of its fierce passion in the hoarse tone in +which he spoke. + +"A word from me?" There was unconscious irony in the girl's reply. + +"Yes, a word. I know. You are thinking of when your uncle came to me; +you're thinking of our first meeting on the bridge; you're thinking of +yesterday. I was drunk. I admit it. But I'm not always drunk. I tell +you a word from you would have been enough." + +The girl's eyes reproached him. + +"A word from me, after five years' absence? It seems to me you should +not have needed a word from me. Jim, had you come to me, whatever your +state, poor or rich, it would have made no difference to me. I should +have met you as we parted, ready to fulfil my pledge." + +"You mean----" + +The man's bloodshot eyes were alight. A tremendous passion was urging +him to the limits of his restraining powers. He had almost forgotten +where he was. He had quite forgotten Dave. The sight of this woman with +her beautiful figure, her sweet face and serious eyes, almost maddened +him. He was from the wilds, where he had long since buried his +wholesome youthful ideals. The life he had lived had entirely deadened +all lofty thought. He only saw with a brain debased to the level of the +animal. He desired her. He madly desired her now that he had seen her +again, and he realized that his desire was about to be thwarted. + +Betty drew back a step. The movement was unconscious. It was the +woman's instinct at the sight of something threatening which made her +draw away from the passion she saw blazing in his eyes. Dave silently +watched the man. + +"I mean," said the girl solemnly, "that you have made our pledge +impossible. I mean," she went on, with quiet dignity, "that I cannot +marry you now, even if you wish it. No, no," as Jim made a sudden +movement to speak, "it is quite useless to discuss the matter further. +I insisted on this meeting to settle the matter beyond question. Dave +here witnessed our engagement, and I wished him to witness its +termination. You will be better free, and so shall I. There could have +been no happiness in a marriage between us----" + +"But I won't give you up," the man suddenly broke out. He had passed +the narrow limits of his restraint. His face flushed and showed +blotched in the sudden scarlet. For a second, after that first fiery +outburst, no words came. Then the torrent flowed forth. "Is this what I +went away for? Is this what I have slaved for in the wilds of the +Yukon? Is this what I am to find now that I have made the money you +desired? No, no, you can't get rid of me like that; you don't mean it, +you can't mean it. Betty, I want you more than anything on earth," he +rushed on, his voice dropping to a persuasive note. "I want you, and +without you life is nothing to me. I must have you!" He took a step +forward. But it was only a step, for the girl's steady eyes held him, +and checked his further advance. And something in her attitude turned +his mood to one of fierce protest. "What is it that has come between +us? What is it that has changed you?" + +Betty snatched at his pause. + +"Such questions come well from you, Jim," she said, with some +bitterness. "You know the truth. You do not need me to tell you." Her +tone suddenly let the demon in the man loose. His passion-lit eyes +lowered, and a furtive, sinister light shone in them when he lifted +them again. + +"I know. I understand," he cried. "This is an excuse, and it serves you +well." The coldness of his voice was in painful contrast to his recent +passion. "The old story, eh? You have found some one else. I never +thought much of a woman's promise, anyhow. I wonder who it is." Then +with a sudden vehemence. "But you shan't marry him. Do you hear? You +shan't while I am----" + +"Quit it!" + +Dave's great voice suddenly filled the room and cut the man's threats +short. + +Jim turned on him in a flash; until that moment he had entirely +forgotten the lumberman. He eyed the giant for a second. Then he +laughed cynically. + +"Oh, I'd forgotten you. Of course," he went on. "I see now. I never +thought of it before. I remember, you were on the bridge together when +I first----" + +Dave had taken a couple of strides and now stood between the two. His +movement silenced the man, while he addressed himself to Betty. + +"You're finished with him?" he inquired in a deep, harsh voice. + +There was something so compelling about him that Betty simply nodded. +Instantly he swung round on the younger man. + +"You'll vacate this place--quick," he said deliberately. + +The two men eyed each other for some seconds. Truscott's look meant +mischief, Dave's was calmly determined. The latter finally stepped +aside and crossing to the door held it open. + +"I said you'll--vacate," he said sharply. + +Truscott turned and glanced at the open door. Then he glanced at Betty, +who had drawn farther away. Finally his frigid eyes turned upon Dave's +great figure standing at the door. For an instant a wicked smile played +round his lips, and he spoke in the same cynical tone. + +"I never thought of you in the marriage market, Dave," he said, with a +vicious laugh. "I suppose it's only natural. Nobody ever associated you +with marriage. Somehow your manner and appearance don't suggest it. I +seem to see you handling lumber all your life, not dandling children on +your knee. But there, you're a good catch--a mighty good one. And I was +fool enough to trust you with my cause. Ye gods! Well, your weight of +money has done it, no doubt. I congratulate you. She has lied to me, +and no doubt she will lie----" + +But the man, if he finished his remark at all, must have done so to the +stacks of lumber in the yards, and to the accompaniment of the shriek +of the saws. There was no fuss. Scarcely any struggle. Dave moved with +cat-like swiftness, which in a man of his size was quite miraculous, +and in a flash Jim Truscott was sprawling on the hard red ground on the +other side of the doorway. + +And when Dave looked round at Betty the girl's face was covered with +her hands, and she was weeping. He stood for a second all contrition, +and clumsily fumbling for words. He believed she was distressed at his +brutal action. + +"I'm sorry, little Betty," he blurted out at last. "I'm real sorry. But +I just couldn't help it." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +AN AUSPICIOUS MEETING + + +Malkern as a village had two moments in the day when it wore the +appearance of a thoroughly busy city. At all other times there was +little outward sign to tell of the prosperity it really enjoyed. +Malkern's really bustling time was at noon, when its workers took an +hour and a half recess for the midday meal, and at six o'clock in the +evening, when the day and night "shifts" at the mill exchanged places. + +There was no eight-hour working day in this lumbering village. The +lumber-jacks and all the people associated with it worked to make +money, not to earn a mere living. They had not reached that deplorable +condition of social pessimism when the worker for a wage believes he is +the man who is making millions for an employer, who is prospering only +by his, the worker's, capacity to do. They were working each for +himself, and regarded the man who could afford them such opportunity as +an undisguised blessing. The longer the "time" the higher the wages, +and this was their whole scheme of life. + +Besides this, there is a certain pride of achievement in the +lumber-jack. He is not a mere automaton. He is a man virile, strong, +and of a wonderful independence all his own. His spirits are animal, +keen of perception, keen for all the joys of life such as he knows. He +lives his life, whether in play or work. Whether he be a sealer, a +cant-hook man, a teamster, or an axeman, his pride is in his skill, and +the rating of his skill is estimated largely by the tally of his day's +work, on which depends the proportion of his wages. + +It was the midday dinner-hour now, and the mill was debouching its +rough tide of workers upon the main street. Harley-Smith's bar was full +of men seeking unnecessary "appetizers." Every boarding-house was +rapidly filling with hungry men clamoring for the ample, even luxurious +meal awaiting them. These men lived well; their work was tremendous, +and food of the best, and ample, was needed to keep them fit. The few +stores which the village boasted were full of eager purchasers +demanding instant service lest the precious time be lost. + +Harley-Smith's hotel abutted on the main road, and the tide had to pass +its inviting portals on their way to the village. Usually the veranda +was empty at this time, for the regular boarders were at dinner, and +the bar claimed those who were not yet dining. But on this occasion it +possessed a solitary occupant. + +He was sitting on a hard windsor chair, tilted back at a dangerous +angle, with his feet propped upon the veranda rail in an attitude of +ease, if not of elegance. He was apparently quite unconcerned at +anything going on about him. His broad-brimmed hat was tilted well +forward upon his nose, in a manner that served the dual purpose of +shading his eyes from the dazzling sunlight, and permitting his gaze to +wander whither he pleased without the observation of the passers-by. To +give a further suggestion of indolent indifference, he was luxuriously +smoking one of Harley-Smith's best cigars. + +But the man's attitude was a pretense. No one passed the veranda who +escaped the vigilance of his quick eyes. He scanned each face sharply, +and passed on to the next; nor did his watchfulness relax for one +instant. It was clear he was looking for some one whom he expected +would pass that way, and it was equally evident he had no desire to +advertise the fact. + +Suddenly he pushed his hat back from his face, and, at the same time, +his feet dropped to the boarded floor. This brought his chair on its +four legs with a jolt, and he sat bolt upright. Now he showed the +bloated young face of Jim Truscott. There was a look in his eyes of +something approaching venomous satisfaction. He had seen the man he was +looking for, and promptly beckoned to him. + +Dick Mansell was passing at that moment, and his small, ferret-like +eyes caught the summons. He hesitated, nor did he come at once in +response to the other's smile of good-fellowship. + +"Dick!" Truscott said. Then he added genially, "I was wondering if +you'd come along this way." + +Mansell nodded indifferently. His face was ill-humored, and his small +eyes had little friendliness in them. He nodded, and was about to pass +on, but the other stayed him with a gesture. + +"Don't go," he said. "I want to speak to you. Come up to my room and +have a drink." + +He kept his voice low, but he might have saved himself the trouble. The +passing crowd were far too intent upon their own concerns to bother +with him. The fact was his attitude was the result of nearly +forty-eight hours of hard thinking, thinking inspired by a weak +character goaded to offense by the rough but justifiable treatment +meted out to him in Dave's office. This man's character, at no time +robust, was now morally run-down, and its condition was like the weakly +body of an unhealthy man. It collected to itself every injurious germ +and left him diseased. His brain and nerves were thrilling with +resentment, and a desire to get even with the "board." He was furiously +determined that Dave should remember with regret the moment he had laid +hands upon him, and that he had come between him and the girl he had +intended to make his own. + +Mansell, stepping on to the veranda, paused and looked the other full +in the eye. + +"Well," he said, after a moment's doubtful consideration, "what is it? +'Tain't like you givin' drink away--'specially to me. What monkey +tricks is it?" + +There was truculence in the sawyer's tone. There was offense in his +very attitude. + +"Are you coming to my room for that drink?" + +Truscott spoke quite coldly, but he knew the curse of the man's thirst. +He had reason to. + +Mansell laughed without any mirth. + +"Guess I may as well drink your brandy. It'll taste the same as any +other. Go ahead." + +His host at once led the way into the hotel and up the stairs to his +room. It was a front room on the first floor, and comparatively +luxurious. The moment the door closed behind him Mansell took in the +details with some interest. + +"A mighty swell apartment--fer you," he observed offensively. + +Truscott shrugged as he turned his back to pour out drinks at the table. + +"That's my business," he said. "I pay for it, and," he added, glancing +meaningly over his shoulder, "I can afford to pay for it--or anything +else I choose to have." + +Mansell was a fine figure of a man, and beside him the other looked +slight, even weedy. But his face and head spoiled him. Both were small +and mean, and gave the impression of a low order of intelligence. Yet +he was reputed one of the finest sawyers in the valley, and a man, when +not on the drink, to be thoroughly trusted. Before he went away to the +Yukon with Jim he had been a teetotaler for two years, and on that +account, and his unrivaled powers as a sawyer, he had acted as the +other's foreman in his early lumbering enterprise. Except, however, for +those two years his past had in it far more shadows than light. + +He grinned unpleasantly. + +"No need to ast how you came by the stuff," he said. + +Truscott was round on him in an instant. His eyes shone wickedly, but +there was a grin about his lips. + +"The same way you tried to come by it too, only you couldn't keep your +damned head clear. You couldn't let this stuff alone." He handed the +man a glass of neat brandy. "You and your cursed drink nearly ruined my +chances. It wasn't your fault you didn't. When I ran that game up in +Dawson I was a fool to take you into it. I did it out of decency, +because you had gone up there with me, and quite against my best +judgment when I saw the way you were drinking. If you'd kept straight +you'd be in the same position as I am. You wouldn't have returned here +more or less broke and only too ready to set rotten yarns going around +about me." + +The sawyer had taken the brandy and swallowed it. Now he set the glass +down on the table with a vicious bang. + +"What yarns?" he demanded angrily. + +"Tchah! Hardwig's a meddling busybody. You might have known it would +come back to me sooner or later. But I didn't bring you here to throw +these things up in your face. You brought it on yourself. Keep a civil +tongue, and if you like to stand in I'll put you into a good thing. +You're not working? And you've got no money?" + +Truscott's questions came sharply. His plans were clear in his mind. +These points he had made sure of already. But he wanted to approach the +matter he had in hand in what he considered the best way in dealing +with a man like Mansell. He knew the sawyer to have scruples of a kind, +that is until they had been carefully undermined by brandy. It was his +purpose to undermine them now. + +"You seem to know a heap," Mansell observed sarcastically. Then he +became a shade more interested. "What's the 'good thing'?" + +Jim poured some brandy out for himself, at the same time, as though +unconsciously, replenishing the other's glass liberally. The sawyer +watched him while he waited for a reply, and suddenly a thought +occurred to his none too ready brain. + +"Drink, eh?" he laughed mockingly, as though answering a challenge on +the subject. "Drink? Say, who's been doing the drink since you got +back? Folks says as your gal has gone right back on you, that ther' +wench as you was a-sparkin' 'fore we lit out. An' it's clear along of +liquor. They say you're soused most ev'ry night, an' most days too. You +should git gassin'--I don't think." + +The man's mean face was alight with brutish glee. He felt he had handed +the other a pretty retort. And in his satisfaction he snatched up his +glass and drank off its contents at a gulp. Indifferent to the gibe, +Jim smiled his satisfaction as he watched the other drain his glass. + +"You've got no work?" he demanded, as Mansell set it down empty. + +"Sure I ain't," the other grinned. "An'," he added, under the warming +influence of the spirit, "I ain't worritin' a heap neither. My credit's +good with the boardin'-house boss. Y' see," he went on, his pride of +craft in his gimlet eyes, "I'm kind o' known here for a boss sawyer. +When they want sawyers there's allus work for Dick Mansell." + +"Your credit's good?" Truscott went on, ignoring the man's boasting. +"Then you have no money?" + +"I allows the market's kind o' low." + +Mansell's mood had become one of clumsy jocularity under the influence +of the brandy. + +"If you can get work so easily, why don't you?" Truscott demanded, +filling the two glasses again as he spoke. + +Mansell seated himself on the bed unbidden. + +"Wal," he began expansively, "I'm kind o' holiday-makin', as they say. +Y' see," he went on with a leer, "I worked so a'mighty hard gittin' +back from the Yukon, I'm kind o' fatigued. Savee? Guess I'll git to +work later. Say, one o' them for me?" he finished up, pointing at the +glasses. + +Truscott nodded, and Mansell helped himself greedily. + +The former fell in with the other's mood. He found him very easy to +deal with. It was just a question of sufficient drink. + +"Well, I don't believe in work, anyway. That is unless it happens to be +my pleasure, too. I worked hard up at Dawson, but it was my pleasure. I +made good money, too--a hell of a sight more than you or anybody else +ever had any idea of." + +"You ran a dandy game," agreed the sawyer. + +"With plenty of customers with mighty fat rolls of money." + +Mansell nodded. + +"I was a fool to quit you," he said regretfully. + +"You were. But it isn't too late. If you aren't yearning to work too +hard." + +Truscott's smile was crafty. And, even with the drink in him, Mansell +saw and understood it. + +"Monkey tricks?" he said. + +"Monkey tricks--if you like." + +Mansell looked over at the bottle. + +"Hand us another horn of that pizen an' I'll listen," he said. + +The other poured out the brandy readily, taking care to be more than +liberal. He watched the sawyer drink, and then, drawing a chair +forward, he sat down. + +"What's that old mill of mine worth?" he asked suddenly. + +They exchanged glances silently. Truscott was watching the effect of +his question, and the other was trying to fathom the meaning of it. + +"I'd say," Mansell replied slowly, giving up the puzzle and waiting for +enlightenment--"I'd say, to a man who needs it bad, it's worth anything +over fifteen thousand dollars. Fer scrappin', I'd say it warn't worth +but fi' thousand." + +"I was thinking of a man needing it." + +"Fifteen thousand an' over." + +Truscott leant forward in his chair and became confidential. + +"Dave wants to buy that mill, and I'm going to sell it to him," he said +impressively. "I'll take twenty thousand for it, and get as much more +as I can. See? Now I don't want that money. I wouldn't care to handle +his money. I've got plenty, and the means of making heaps more if I +need it." + +He paused to let his words sink in. Mansell nodded with his eyes on the +brandy bottle. As yet he did not see the man's drift. He did not see +where he came in. He waited, and Truscott went on. + +"Now what would you be willing to do for that twenty thousand--or +more?" he asked smilingly. + +The other turned his head with a start, and, for one fleeting second, +his beady eyes searched his companion's face. He saw nothing there but +quiet good-nature. It was the face of the old Jim Truscott--used to +hide the poisoned mind behind it. + +"Give me a drink," Mansell demanded roughly. "This needs some thinkin'." + +Truscott handed him the bottle, and watched him while he drank nearly +half a tumbler of the raw spirit. + +"Well?" + +Mansell breathed heavily. + +"Seems to me I'd do--a heap," he said at last. + +"Would you take a job as sawyer in Dave's mill, and--and act under my +orders?" + +"It kind o' depends on the orders." For some reason the lumberman +became cautious. The price was high--almost too high for him. + +Truscott suddenly rose from his seat, and crossing the room, turned the +key in the door. Then he closed the window carefully. He finally +glanced round the room, and came back to his seat. Then, leaning +forward and lowering his tone, he detailed carefully all that the +lumberman would have to do to earn the money. It took some time in the +telling, but at last he sat back with a callous laugh. + +"That's all it is, Dick, my boy," he cried familiarly. "You will be as +safe as houses. Not only that, but I may not need your help at all. I +have other plans which are even better, and which may do the job +without your help. See? This is only in case it is necessary. You see I +don't want to leave anything to chance. I want to be ready. And I want +no after consequences. You understand? You may get the money for doing +nothing. On the other hand, what you have to do entails little enough +risk. The price is high, simply because I do not want the money, and I +want to be sure I can rely on you." + +The man's plausibility impressed the none too bright-witted lumberman. +Then, too, the brandy had done its work. His last scruple fled, +banished by his innate crookedness, set afire by the spirit and the +dazzling bait held out to him. It was a case of the clever rascal +dominating the less dangerous, but more brutal, type of man. Mansell +was as potter's clay in this man's hands. The clay dry would have been +impossible to mould, but moistened, the artist in villainy had no +difficulty in handling it. And the lubricating process had been +liberally supplied. + +"I'm on," Mansell said, his small eyes twinkling viciously. "I'm on +sure. Twenty thousand! Gee! But I'll need it all, Jim," he added +greedily. "I'll need it all, and any more you git. You said it +yourself, I was to git the lot. Yes," as though reassuring himself, +"I'm on." + +Truscott nodded approvingly. + +"Good boy," he said pleasantly. "But there's one thing more, Dick. I +make it a proviso you don't go on any teetotal racket. I know you. +Anyway, I don't believe in the water wagon worth a cent. It don't suit +you in work like this. But don't get drunk and act foolish. Keep on the +edge. See? Get through this racket right, and you've got a small pile +that'll fill your belly up like a distillery--after. You'll get the +stuff in a bundle the moment you've done the work." + +Mansell reached out for the bottle without invitation, picked it up, +and put the neck to his lips. Nor did he put it down till he had +drained it. It was the culminating point. The spirit had done its work, +and as Truscott watched him he knew that, body and soul, the man was +his. The lumberman flung the empty bottle on the bed. + +"I'll do it, you damned crook," he cried. "I'll do it, but not because +I like you, or anything to do with you. It's the bills I need +sure--green, crisp, crinkly bills. But I'll need fifty of 'em now. Hand +over, pard," he cried exultingly. "Hand over, you imp of hell. I want +fifty now, or I don't stir a hand. Hand 'em----" + +Suddenly the man staggered back and fell on the bed, staring stupidly +at the shining silver-plated revolver in the other's hands. + +"Hold your noise, you drunken hog," Jim cried in a biting tone. "This +is the sort of thing I suppose I can expect from a blasted fool like +you. Now understand this, I'm going to give you that fifty, not because +you demand it, but to seal our compact. And by the Holy Moses, when +you've handled it, if you attempt to play any game on me, I'll blow you +to hell quicker than any through mail could carry you there. Get that, +and let it sink into your fool brain." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE SUMMER RAINS + + +Truscott looked up from his paper and watched the rain as it hissed +against the window. It was falling in a deluge, driven by a gale of +wind which swept the woodlands as though bent on crushing out the last +dignity of the proud forest giants. The sky was leaden, and held out no +promise of relenting. It was a dreary prospect, yet to the man watching +it was a matter of small moment. + +It was nearly midday, and as yet he had not broken his fast. In fact +his day was only just beginning. His appearance told plainly the story +of his previous night's dissipation. Still, his mood was in no way +depressed--he was too well seasoned to the vicious life he had adopted +for that. Besides, the prosperity of Malkern brought much grist to his +mill, and its quality more than made up for the after effects of his +excesses. + +He turned to his paper again. It was a day old. A large head-line faced +him announcing the spreading of the railway strike. Below it was a +column describing how business was already affected, and how, shortly, +if a settlement were not soon arrived at, it was feared that the +trans-continental traffic could only be kept open with the aid of +military engineers. The rest of the paper held no interests for him; he +had only read this column, and it seemed to afford him food for much +thought. He had read it over twice, and was now reading it for a third +time. + +At last he threw the paper aside and walked across to the table to pour +himself out a drink. The thought of food sickened him. The only thing +possible was a whiskey-and-milk, and he mixed the beverage and held it +to his lips. But the smell of it sickened him, and he set it down and +moved away to the window. + +There was little enough to attract him thither, but he preferred the +prospect to the sight and smell of whiskey at that hour of the day. +After some moments he made another attempt on his liquid breakfast. He +knew he must get it down somehow. He turned and looked at it, +shuddered, and turned again to the window. And at that instant he +recognized the great figure of Dave, clad from head to foot in +oilskins, making his way back from the depot to the mill. + +The sight fixed his attention, and all the venom in his distorted +nature shone in the wicked gleam that sprang into his eyes. His blood +was fired with hatred. + +"Betty for you? Never in your life," he muttered at the passing figure. +"Never in mine, Dave, my boy. It's you and me for it, and by God I'll +never let up on you!" + +All unconscious of the venomous thoughts the sight of him had inspired, +Dave strode on through the rain. He was deep in his own concerns, and +at that moment they were none too pleasant. The deluge of rain damped +his spirits enough, but the mail he had just received had brought him +news that depressed him still more. The Engineers' Union had called for +a general cessation of work east of Winnipeg, and he was wondering how +it was likely to affect him. Should his engineers go out, would it be +possible to replace them? And if he could, how would he be able to cope +with the trouble likely to ensue? He could certainly fall in with the +Union's demands, but--well, he would wait. It was no use anticipating +trouble. + +But more bad news was awaiting him when he reached his office. Dawson, +in his absence, had opened a letter which had arrived by runner from +Bob Mason, the foreman of the camps up in the hills. + +Dawson was no alarmist. He always looked to Dave for everything when a +crisis confronted them. He felt that if not a crisis, something very +like it was before them now, and so he calmly handed Mason's letter to +his boss, confident in the latter's capacity to deal with the situation. + +"This come along by hand," he said easily. "Guess, seein' it's wrote +'important' on it, I opened it." + +Dave nodded while he threw off his oilskins. He made no particular +haste, and deposited his mail on his desk before he took the letter +from his foreman. At last, however, he unfolded the sheet of foolscap +on which it was written, and read the ominous contents. It was a long +letter dealing with the business of the camps, but the one paragraph +which had made the letter important threw all the rest into +insignificance. It ran-- + + +"I regret to have to report that an epidemic of mountain fever has +broken out in two of our camps--the new No. 8 and No. 1. We have +already nearly eighty cases on the sick list, chiefly amongst the new +hands from Ottawa who are not yet acclimatized. The summer rains have +been exceedingly heavy, which in a large measure accounts for the +trouble. I shall be glad if you will send up medical aid, and a supply +of drugs, at once. Dysentery is likely to follow, and you know what +that means. + +"We are necessarily short-handed now, but, by increasing hours and +offering inducements, and by engaging any stray hands that filter up to +the camps, I hope to keep the work going satisfactorily. I am isolating +the sick, of course, but it is most important that you send me the +medical aid at once," etc., etc. + + +Dave was silent for a while after reading the letter, and the gravity +of his expression was enhanced by the extreme plainness of his +features. His steady eyes were looking out through the open doorway at +the mill beyond, as though it were some living creature to whom he was +bound by ties of the deepest affection, and for whom he saw the +foreshadowing of disaster. At last he turned. + +"Damn the rain," he said impatiently. Then he added, "I'll see to it." + +Dawson glanced quickly at his chief. + +"Nothin' I ken do, boss?" he inquired casually. + +A grim smile played over Dave's rugged features. + +"Nothing, I guess," he said, "unless you can fix a nozzle on to +heaven's water-main and turn it on to the strikers down east." + +The other shook his head seriously. + +"I ain't worth a cent in the plumbin' line, boss," he said. + +Dawson left the office. The mill claimed him at all times. He never +neglected his charge, and rarely allowed himself long absences beyond +the range of its strident music. The pressure of work seemed to +increase every day. He knew that the strain on his employer was +enormous, and somehow he would have been glad if he could have shared +this new responsibility. + +Dave had just taken his slicker from the wall again when Dawson came +back to the door. + +"Say, ther's that feller Mansell been around this mornin' lookin' fer a +job. I sed he'd best come around to-morrer. I didn't guess I'd take him +on till I see you. He's a drunken bum anyway." + +Dave nodded. + +"He used to be a dandy sawyer," he said, "and we need 'em. Is he +drinking now?" + +"I've heard tell. He stank o' whiskey's mornin'. That's why I passed +him on. Yes, he's a dandy sawyer, sure. He was on the 'water wagon' +'fore he went off up north with young Truscott. Mebbe he'll sober up +agin--if we put him to work." + +Dave clenched the matter in his decided way. + +"Put him on the 'time sheet' to-morrow, and set him on the No. 1 +rollers, beside our night office. You can keep a sharp eye on him +there. He's a bit of a backslider, but if giving him a job'll pull him +up and help him, why, give it him. We've no right to refuse." + +He struggled into his slicker again as Dawson went off. He inspected +the weather outside with no very friendly eye. It meant so much to him. +At the moment the deluge was like a bursting waterspout, and the yards +were like a lake dotted with islands of lumber. But he plunged out into +it without a moment's hesitation. His work must go on, no matter what +came. + +He hurried off in the direction of Chepstow's house. It was some time +since he had seen his friend, and though the cause of his present visit +was so serious, he was glad of the opportunity of making it. + +Tom Chepstow saw him coming, and met him on the veranda. He was always +a man of cheery spirits, and just now, in spite of the weather, he was +well enough satisfied with the world. Matters between Betty and Jim +Truscott had been settled just as he could wish, so there was little to +bother him. + +"I was really considering the advisability of a telephone from here to +your office, Dave," he said, with a smiling welcome. "But joking apart, +I never seem to see you now. How's things down there? If report says +truly, you're doing a great work." + +Dave shook his head. + +"The mills are," he said modestly. + +Chepstow laughed heartily. + +"That's your way of putting it. You and the mills are one. Nobody ever +speaks of one without including the other. You'll never marry, my boy. +You are wedded to the shriek of your beloved buzz-saws. Here, take off +those things and come in. We've got a drop of Mary's sloe gin +somewhere." + +They went into the parlor, and Dave removed his oilskins. While he hung +them to drain on a nail outside, the parson poured him out a wineglass +of his wife's renowned sloe gin. He drank it down quickly, not because +he cared particularly about it, but out of compliment to his friend's +wife. Then he set his glass down, and began to explain his visit. + +"This isn't just a friendly visit, Tom," he said. "It's business. Bad +business. You've got to help me out." + +The parson opened his eyes. It was something quite new to have Dave +demanding help. + +"Go ahead," he said, his keen eyes lighting with amusement. + +Dave drew a bunch of letters from his coat pocket. He glanced over them +hastily, and picked out Mason's and handed it to the other. In picking +it out he had discovered another letter he had left unopened. + +"Read that," he said, while he glanced at the address on the unopened +envelope. + +The handwriting was strange to him, and while Tom Chepstow was reading +Mason's letter he tore the other open. As he read, the gravity of his +face slowly relaxed. At last an exclamation from the parson made him +look up. + +"This is terrible, Dave!" + +"It's a bit fierce," the other agreed. "Have you read it all?" he +inquired. + +"Yes." + +"Then you've got my meaning in coming to you?" + +"I see. I hadn't thought of it." + +Dave smiled into the other's face. + +"You're going to do it for me? It may mean weeks. It may even mean +months. You see, it's an epidemic. At the best it might be only a +couple of weeks. They're tough, those boys. On the other hand it might +mean--anything to me." + +Chepstow nodded. He understood well enough what an epidemic of mountain +fever in his lumber camps must mean to Dave. He understood the +conditions under which he stood with regard to his contract. A +catastrophe like that might mean ruin. And ruin for Dave would mean +ruin for nearly all connected with Malkern. + +"Yes, I'll do it, Dave. Putting all friendship on one side, it is +clearly my duty. Certainly. I'll go up there and lend all the aid I +possibly can. You must outfit me with drugs and help." + +Dave held out his hand, and the two men gripped. + +"Thanks, Tom," he said simply, although he experienced a world of +relief and gratitude. "I wouldn't insult you with a bribe before you +consented, but when you come back there's a thumping check for your +charities lying somewhere around my office." + +The parson laughed in his whole-hearted fashion, while his friend once +more donned his oilskins. + +"I'm always open to that sort of bribery, old boy," he said, and was +promptly answered by one of Dave's slow smiles. + +"That's good," he said. Then he held up his other letter, but he did +not offer it to be read. + +"Betty told you what happened at my office the other day--I mean, what +happened to Jim Truscott?" The parson's face clouded with swift anger. + +"The ras----" + +"Just so. Yes, we had some bother; but he's just sent me this. A most +apologetic letter. He offers to sell me his mill now. I wanted to buy +it, you know. He wants twenty thousand dollars cash for it. I shall +close the deal at once." He laughed. + +"Hard up, I s'pose?" + +Dave shook his head. + +"I don't think so. His change of front is curious, though," he went on +thoughtfully. "However, that don't matter. I want the mill, and--I'm +going to buy. So long. I've got to go and look at that piece of new +track I'm getting laid down. My single line to the depot isn't +sufficient. I'll let you know about starting up to the camps. I've got +a small gang of lumber-jacks coming up from Ottawa. Maybe I'll get you +to go up with them later. Thanks, Tom." + +The two men shook hands again, and Dave departed. + +He battled his way through the driving rain to his railroad +construction, and on the road he thought a good deal of Truscott's +neglected letter. There was something in its tone he could not convince +himself about. Why, he asked himself, should he, so closely following +on the events which had happened in his office, deliberately turn round +and display such a Christian-like spirit? Somehow it didn't seem to +suit him. It didn't carry conviction. Then there was the letter; its +wording was too careful. It was so deliberately careful that it +suggested a suppression of real feeling. This was his impression, and +though Dave was usually an unsuspicious man, he could not shake it off. + +He thought of little else but that letter all the way to his works, and +after reviewing the man's attitude from what, in his own simple +honesty, he considered to be every possible standpoint, he finally, +with a quaint, even quixotic, kindliness assured himself that there +could after all be but one interpretation to it. The man was penitent +at his painful exhibition before Betty, and his vile accusations +against himself. That his moral strength was not equal to standing the +strain of a personal interview. That his training up at the Yukon, +where he had learned the sordid methods of a professional gambler, had +suggested the selling of his mill to him as a sort of peace-offering. +And the careful, stilted tone of the letter itself was due to the +difficulty of its composition. Further, he decided to accept his offer, +and do so in a cordial, friendly spirit, and, when opportunity offered, +to endeavor, by his own moral influence, to drag him back to the paths +of honest citizenship. This was the decision to which his generous +nature prompted him. But his head protested. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE OLD MILLS + + +When Dave reached the construction camp the work was in full swing. The +men, clad in oilskins, paid little heed to the rain. Ahead was the gang +spreading the heavy stone gravel bed, behind it came those laying and +trimming ties. Following close upon their heels came others engaged in +setting and bolting the rails, while hard in the rear followed a gang +leveling, checking gauge, and ballasting. It was very rough railroad +construction, but the result was sufficient for the requirements. It +was rapid, and lacked the careful precision of a "permanent way," but +the men were working at high pressure against time. + +Dave saw that all was well here. He exchanged a few words with the +foreman, and gave his orders. Then he passed on, intending to return to +the mill for his buckboard. Crossing the bridge to take a short cut, he +encountered Betty driving home from her school in her uncle's buggy. +She drew up at once. + +"Whither away, Dave?" she cried. Then she hastily turned the dozy old +mare aside, so as to open the wheels to let the man climb in. "Come +along; don't stand there in the rain. Isn't it awful? The river'll be +flooding to-morrow if it doesn't stop soon. Back to the mills?" + +Dave clambered into the buggy and divested himself of his dripping +oilskins. The vehicle was a covered one, and comparatively rain-proof, +even in such a downpour. + +"Well, I guess so," he said. "I'm just going back to get my buckboard. +Then I'm going up to get a look at Jim Truscott's old mill. He's sent +word this morning to say he'll sell it me." + +The girl chirruped at the old mare, but offered no comment. The simple +process of driving over a road nothing could have induced the parson's +faithful beast to leave seemed to demand all her attention. + +"Did he send, or--have you seen him?" she asked him presently. And it +was plain that the matter was of unusual interest to her. + +"I said he sent. He wrote to me--and mailed the letter." + +"Was there anything--else in the letter?" + +The girl's tone was cold enough. Dave, watching her, was struck by the +decision in her expression. He wanted to hear what she thought of the +letter. He was anxious to see its effect on her. He handed it to her, +and quietly took the reins out of her hands. + +"You can read it," he said. And Betty eagerly unfolded the paper. + +The mare plodded on, splashing solemnly and indifferently through the +torrential streams flooding the trail, and they were nearly through the +village by the time she handed the letter back and resumed the reins. + +"Curious. I--I don't think I understand him at all," she said gravely. + +"It's an apology," said Dave, anxious for her to continue. + +"Yes, I suppose it is." She paused. "But why to you?" Then a whimsical +smile spread over her round face. "I thought you two were nearly +square. Now, if the apology had come to me----" + +"Yes, I hadn't thought of that." + +Both sat thinking for some time. They arrived at the point where the +trail turned up to Tom Chepstow's house. Betty ignored the turning and +kept on. + +"Is that mill worth all that money?" she asked suddenly. + +Dave shook his head. + +"You've come too far," he said, pointing at her uncle's house. And the +girl smiled. + +"I want to have a look at the mill. Why are you buying it at that +price, Dave?" + +"Because there's no time to haggle, and--I want it." + +Betty nodded. She was looking straight ahead, and the man failed to see +the tender light his words had conjured in her eyes. She knew that Dave +would never have paid that money to anybody else, no matter how much he +wanted the mill. He was doing it for Jim. However unworthy the man was, +it made no difference to his large-hearted nature. + +The tenderness still lingered in her eyes when she turned to him again. + +"Is Jim hard up?" she inquired. + +The frigidity of her tone was wholly at variance with her expression. +But it told plainly of her feelings for the subject of her inquiry. +Dave shook his head. + +"From all I've heard, and from his own talk, I'd guess not." + +Betty suddenly became very angry. She wanted to shake somebody, even +Dave, since he was the only person near enough to be shaken. + +"He says in his letter, 'as the mill is no further use to me,'" she +cried indignantly. "Dave, your Christian spirit carries you beyond all +bounds. You have no right to give all that money for it. It isn't worth +it anyway. You are--and he--he--oh, I've simply no words for him!" + +"But your uncle, with due regard for his cloth, has," Dave put in +quickly. + +Betty's indignation was gone in an instant, lost in the laugh which +responded to his dry tone. + +He had no intention of making her laugh, but he was glad she did so. It +told him so much. It reassured him of something on which he had needed +reassurance. Her parting with Jim, giving up as it did the habit and +belief of years, had troubled him. Then in some measure he had felt +himself responsible, although he knew perfectly well that no word of +his had ever encouraged her on the course she had elected. He was +convinced now. Her regard for Jim was utterly dead, had been dead far +longer than probably even she realized. + +With this conviction a sudden wild hope leapt within him; but, like +summer lightning, its very brilliancy left the night seemingly darker. +No, it could never be now. Betty liked him, liked him only too well. +Her frank friendliness was too outspoken, and then--ah, yes, he knew +himself. Did he ever get the chance of forgetting? Did not his mirror +remind him every morning? Did not his hair brushes, even, force it upon +him as they loyally struggled to arrange some order in his obstinate +wiry hair? Did not every chair, even his very bed, cry out at the awful +burden they were called upon to support? Somehow his thoughts made him +rebellious. Why should he be so barred? Why should he be denied the +happiness all men are created for? But in a man like Dave such +rebellion was not likely to find vent in words, or even mood. + +In the midst of his thought the drone of his own distant mills came to +him through the steady hiss of the rain. The sound held him, and he +experienced a strange comfort. It was like an answer to his mute +appeal. It reminded him that his work lay before him. It was a call to +which he was wedded, bound; it claimed his every nerve; it demanded his +every thought like the most exacting mistress; and, for the moment, it +gripped him with all the old force. + +"Say," he cried, holding up a warning finger, untidy with years of +labor, "isn't she booming? Hark at the saws," he went on, his eyes +glowing with pride and enthusiasm. "They're singing to beat the band. +It's real music." + +They listened. + +"Hark!" he went on presently, and Betty's eyes watched him with a +tender smile in their brown depths. "Hear the rise and fall of it as +the breeze carries it. Hear the 'boom' of the 'ninety-footers' as they +drop into the shoots. Isn't it great? Isn't it elegant music?" + +Betty nodded. Her sympathy was with him if she smiled at his words. + +"A lumbering symphony," she said. + +Dave's face suddenly fell. + +"Ah," he said apologetically, "you weren't brought up on a diet of +buzz-saw trimmings." + +Betty shook her head. + +"No," she said gently, "patent food." + +Dave's enthusiasm dropped from him, and his face, unlit by it, had +fallen back into its stern set. At the sight of the almost tragic +change Betty's heart smote her, and she hastened to make amends, +fearful lest he should fail to realize the sympathy she had for him. + +"Ah, no, Dave," she cried. "I know. I understand. I, too, love those +mills for what they mean to you, to us, to Malkern. They are your +world. They are our world. You have slowly, laboriously built them up. +You have made us--Malkern. Your prosperity means happiness and +prosperity to hundreds in our beloved valley. You do not love those +mills for the fortune they are piling up for you, but for the sake of +those others who share in your great profits and whose lives you have +been able to gladden. I know you, Dave. And I understand the real music +you hear." + +The man shook his head, but his voice rang with deep feeling. He knew +that he did not deserve all this girl's words conveyed, but, coming +from her, it was very sweet. + +"Little Betty," he said, "you kind of run away with things. There's a +fellow called 'Dave' I think about a heap. I think about him such a +heap I'm most always thinking of him. He's got ambition bad--so bad he +thinks of precious little else. Then he's most terrible human. You'd +marvel if you knew just how human he was. Now you'd think, maybe, he'd +not want anything he hasn't got, wouldn't you? You'd think he was happy +and content to see everything he undertakes prospering, and other folks +happy. Well, he just isn't, and that's a fact. He's mighty thankful for +mercies received, but there's a heap of other mercies he grumbles +because he hasn't got." + +There was so much sincerity in the man's voice that Betty turned and +stared at him. + +"And aren't you happy, Dave?" she asked, hardly knowing what she said, +but, woman-like, fixing on the one point that appealed to her deepest +sympathy. + +He evaded the direct question. + +"I'm as happy as a third child in playtime," he said; and then, before +she could fully grasp his meaning, "Ah, here's the mill. Guess we'll +pull up right here." + +The old mare came to a standstill, and Dave sprang out before Betty +could answer him. And as soon as she had alighted he led the horse to a +shed out of the rain. + +Then together they explored the mill, and their talk at once became +purely technical. The man became the practical lumberman, and, +note-book in hand, he led the way from room to room and floor to floor, +observing every detail of the conditions prevailing. And all the time +they talked, Betty displaying such an exhaustive knowledge of the man's +craft that at times she quite staggered him. It was a revelation, a +source of constant wonder, and it added a zest to the work which made +him love every moment spent in carrying it out. + +It was over an hour before the inspection was finished, and to Dave it +scarcely seemed more than a matter of minutes. Then there was yet the +drive home with Betty at his side. As they drove away the culminating +point in the man's brief happiness was reached when the girl, with +interest such as his own might have been, pointed out the value of his +purchase. + +"It will take you exactly a week to outfit that mill, I should say," +she said. "Its capacity for big stuff is so small you shouldn't pay a +cent over ten thousand dollars for it." + +Dave smiled. Sometimes Betty's keenness of perception in his own +business made him feel very small. Several times already that morning +she had put things so incisively before him that he found himself +wondering whether he had considered them from the right point of view. +He was about to answer her, but finally contented himself with a +wondering exclamation. + +"For Heaven's sake, Betty, where did you learn it all?" + +It was a delighted laugh that answered him. + +"Where? Where do you think? Why, from the one man competent to teach +me. You forget that I came to you for instruction five years ago." + +The girl's eyes were dancing with pleasure. Somehow the desire for this +man's praise and approval had unconsciously become part of her whole +outlook. Her simple honesty would not let her deny it--showed her no +reason for denying it. She sometimes told herself it was just her +vanity; it was the desire of a pupil for a master's praise. She, as +yet, could see no other reason for it, and would have laughed at the +idea that any warmer feeling could possibly underlie it. + +Dave's pleasure in her acknowledgment was very evident. + +"I haven't forgotten, Betty," he said. "But I never taught you all +that. It's your own clever little head. You could give Joel Dawson a +start and beat him." + +"You don't understand," the girl declared quickly. "It was you who gave +me the ground-work, and then I thought and thought. You see, I--I +wanted to help Jim when he came back." + +Dave had no reply to make. The girl's plain statement had damped his +enthusiasm. He had forgotten Jim. She had done this for love of the +other man. + +"I want you to do me a great favor," she went on presently. "I want it +very--very much. You think I've learned a lot. Well, I want to learn +more. I don't know quite why--I s'pose it's because I'm interested. I +want to see the big lumber being trimmed. I want to see your own mill +in full work, and have what I don't understand explained to me. Will +you do it? Some night. I'd like to see it all in its most inspiring +light. Will you, Dave?" + +She laid a coaxing hand on his great arm, and looked eagerly into his +eyes. At that moment the lumberman would have promised her the world. +And he would have striven with every nerve in his body to fulfil his +promise. + +"Sure," he said simply. "Name your own time." + +And for once the girl didn't thank him in her usual frank way. She +simply drew her hand away and chirruped at the old mare. + +For the rest of the drive home she remained silent. It was as though +Dave's ready, eager promise had suddenly affected her in some +disturbing way. Her brown eyes looked straight ahead along the trail, +and they were curiously serious. + +They reached the man's home. He alighted, and she drove on to her own +destination with a feeling of relief not unmixed with regret. + +Dave's mother had been long waiting dinner for her boy. She had seen +the buggy and guessed who was in it, and as he came up she greeted him +with pride and affection shining in her old eyes. + +"That was Betty?" she inquired, moving across to the dinner-table, +while the man removed his slicker. + +"Yes, ma," he said coolly. He had no desire to discuss Betty with any +one just then, not even with his mother. + +"Driving with her, dear?" she asked, with smiling, searching eyes upon +his averted face. + +"She gave me a lift," Dave replied, coming over and sitting down at the +table. + +His mother, instead of helping him to his food, suddenly came round to +his side and laid one affectionate hand upon his great shoulder. The +contrast in these two had something almost ridiculous in it. He was so +huge, and she was so small. Perhaps the only things they possessed in +common, outside of their mutual adoration, were the courage and +strength which shone in their gray eyes, and the abounding kindliness +of heart for all humanity. But whereas these things in the mother were +always second to her love for her boy, the boy's first thought and care +was for the great work his own hands had created. + +"Dave," she said very gently, "when am I going to have a daughter? I'm +getting very, very old, and I don't want to leave you alone in the +world." + +The man propped his elbow on the table and rested his head on his hand. +His eyes were almost gloomy. + +"I don't want to lose you, ma," he said. "It would break me up ter'ble. +Life's mostly lonesome anyhow." Then he looked keenly up into her face, +and his glance was one of concern. "You--you aren't ailing any?" + +The old woman shook her head, and her eyes smiled back at him. + +"No, boy, I'm not ailing. But I worry some at times. You see, I like +Betty very, very much. In a different way, I'm almost as fond of her as +you are----" + +Dave started and was about to break in, but his mother shook her head, +and her hand caressed his cheek with infinite tenderness. + +"Why don't you marry her, now--now that the other is broken off----" + +But Dave turned to her, and, swept by an almost fierce emotion, would +not be denied. + +"Why, ma? Why?" he cried, with all the pent-up bitterness of years in +the depth of his tone. "Look at me! Look at me! And you ask me why." He +held out his two hands as though to let her see him as he was. "Would +any woman think of me--look at me with thoughts of love? She couldn't. +What am I? A mountain of muscle, brawn, bone, whatever you will, with a +face and figure even a farmer would hate to set up over a corn patch at +harvest time." He laughed bitterly. "No--no, ma," he went on, his tone +softening, and taking her worn hand tenderly in his. "There are folks +made for marriage, and folks that aren't. And when folks that aren't +get marrying they're doing a mean thing on the girl. I'm not going to +think a mean thing for Betty--let alone do one." + +His mother moved away to her seat. + +"Well, boy, I'll say no more, but I'm thinking a time'll come when +you'll be doing a mean thing by Betty if you don't, and she'll be the +one that'll think it----" + +"Ma!" + +"The dinner's near cold." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +BETTY DECIDES + + +Two nights later Dave was waiting in the tally room for his guests to +arrive. The place was just a corner partitioned off from the milling +floor. It was here the foreman kept account of the day's work--a bare +room, small, and hardly worth the name of "office." Yet there was work +enough done in it to satisfy the most exacting master. + +The master of the mills had taken up a position in the narrow doorway, +in full view of the whole floor, and was watching the sawyer on No. 1. +It was Mansell. He beheld with delight the wonderful skill with which +the man handled the giant logs as they creaked and groaned along over +the rollers. He appeared to be sober, too. His deliberate movements, +timed to the fraction of a second, were sufficient evidence of this. He +felt glad that he had taken him on his time-sheet. Every really skilful +sawyer was of inestimable value at the moment, and, after all, this +man's failing was one pretty common to all good lumbermen. + +Dawson came up, and Dave nodded in the sawyer's direction. + +"Working good," he observed with satisfaction. + +"Too good to last, if I know anything," grumbled the foreman. "He'll +get breakin' out, an then---- I've a mind to set him on a 'buzz-saw'. +These big saws won't stand for tricks if he happens to git around with +a 'jag' on." + +"You can't put a first-class sawyer on to a 'buzzer,'" said Dave +decisively. "It's tantamount to telling him he doesn't know his work. +No, keep him where he is. If he 'signs' in with a souse on, push him +out till he's sober. But so long as he's right let him work where he +is." + +"Guess you're 'boss' o' this lay-out," grumbled the foreman. + +"Just so." + +Then, as though the matter had no further concern for him, Dawson +changed the subject. + +"There's twenty 'jacks' scheduled by to-night's mail," he said, as +though speaking of some dry-goods instead of a human freight. + +"They're for the hills to-night. Mr. Chepstow's promised to go up and +dose the boys for their fever. I'm putting it to him to-night. He'll +take 'em with him. By the way, I'm expecting the parson and Miss Betty +along directly. They want to get a look at this." He waved an arm in +the direction of the grinding rollers. "They want to see it--busy." + +Dawson was less interested in the visitors. + +"I see 'em as I come up," he said indifferently. "Looked like they'd +been around your office." + +Dave turned on him sharply. + +"Go down and bring 'em along up. And say--get things ready for sending +up to the camps to-night. Parson'll have my buckboard and the black +team. He's got to travel quick. They can come right away back when he's +got there. See he's got plenty of bedding and rations. Load it down +good. There's a case of medical supplies in my office. That goes with +him. Then you'll get three 'democrats' from Mulloc's livery barn for +the boys. See they've got plenty of grub too." + +When Dave gave sharp orders, Dawson simply listened and obeyed. He +understood his employer, and never ventured criticism at such times. He +hurried away now to give the necessary orders, and then went on to find +the visitors. + +Directly he had gone the master of the mills moved over to the sawyer +on No. 1. + +"You haven't forgotten your craft, Mansell," he said pleasantly, his +deep voice carrying, clarion-like, distinctly over the din of the +sawing-floor. + +"Would you fergit how t' eat, boss?" the man inquired surlily, +measuring an oncoming log keenly with his eye. He bore down on a +"jolting" lever and turned the log into a fresh position. Then he leant +forward and tipped the end of it with chalk. Hand and eye worked +mechanically together. He knew to a hairsbreadth just where the +trimming blade should strike the log to get the maximum square of +timber. + +Dave shook his head. + +"It would take some forgetting," he said, with a smile. "You see +there's always a stomach to remind you." + +The log was passing, and the man had a moment's breathing space while +it traveled to the fangs of the rushing saw. He looked up with a pair +of dark, brooding eyes in which shone a peculiarly offensive light. + +"Jest so," he vouchsafed. "I learned this when I learned t' eat, an' +it's filled my belly that long, fi' year ain't like to set me +fergittin'." + +He turned to the rollers and watched the log. He saw it hit the teeth +of the saw plumb on his chalk mark. + +"An awful waste out of a lumberman's life, that five years," Dave went +on, when the crucial moment had passed. "That mill would have been +doing well now, and--and you were foreman." + +He was looking straight into the fellow's mean face. He noted the +terrible inroads drink had made upon it, the sunken eyes, the pendulous +lip, the lines of dissipation in deep furrows round his mouth. He +pitied him from the bottom of his heart, but allowed no softness of +expression. + +"Say," exclaimed the sawyer, with a vicious snap, "when I'm lumberin' I +ain't got time fer rememberin' anything else--which is a heap good. I +don't guess it's good for any one buttin' in when the logs are rollin'. +Guess that log's comin' right back." + +The man's unnecessary insolence was a little staggering. Yet Dave +rather liked him for it. The independence of the sawyer's spirit +appealed to him. He really had no right to criticize Mansell's past, to +stir up an unpleasant memory for him. + +He knew his men, and he realized that he had overstepped his rights in +the matter. He was simply their employer. It was for him to give +orders, and for them to obey. In all else he must take them as man and +man. He felt now that there was nothing more for him to say, so while +the sawyer clambered over to the return rollers, ready for the second +journey of the log, he walked thoughtfully back to his office. + +At that moment his visitors appeared, escorted by Dawson. The foreman +was piloting them with all the air of a guide and the pride of his +association with the mills. Betty was walking beside him, and while +taking in the wonderful scene that opened out before her, she was +listening to the conversation of the two men. + +The foreman had taken upon himself to tell the parson of the orders he +had received for the night journey, and the details of the preparations +being made for it. The news came to Chepstow unpleasantly, yet he +understood that its urgency must be great, or Dave would never have +decided upon so sudden a journey. He was a little put out, but quite +ready to help his friend. + +It was the first Betty had heard of it. She was astonished and +resentful. She had heard that there was fever up in the hills, but her +uncle had told her nothing of Dave's request to him. Therefore, before +greetings had been exchanged, and almost before the door of the tally +room had closed upon the departing foreman, she opened a volley of +questions upon him. + +"What's this about uncle going up to the hills to-night, Dave?" she +demanded. "Why has it been kept secret? Why so sudden? Why to-night?" + +Her inquiring glance turned from one to the other. + +Dave made no hurry to reply. He was watching the play of the strong, +eager young face. The girl's directness appealed to him even more than +her beauty. To-night she looked very pretty in a black clinging gown +which made her look almost fragile. She seemed so slight, so delicate, +yet her whole manner had such reserve of virile force. He thought now, +as he had often thought before, she possessed a brain much too big and +keen for her body, yet withal so essentially womanly as to be something +to marvel at. + +The girl became impatient. + +"Why wasn't I told? For goodness' sake don't stand there staring, Dave." + +"There's no secrecy exactly, Betty," the lumberman said, "that is, +except from the folks in the village. You see, anything likely to check +our work, such as fever up in the camps, is liable to set them worrying +and talking. We didn't mean to keep it from you----" + +"Yes, yes," the girl broke in. "But why this hurry? Why to-night?" + +And so she forced Dave into a full explanation, which alone would +satisfy her. At the end of it she turned to her uncle, who had stood +quietly by enjoying the manner in which she dictated her will upon the +master of the mills. + +"It's an awful shame you've got to go, uncle, especially while you've +got all the new church affairs upon your hands. But I quite see Dave's +right, and we must get the boys well as quickly as possible. We've got +to remember that these mills are not only Dave's. They also belong to +Malkern--one might almost say to the people of this valley. It is the +ship, and--and we are its freight. So we start at midnight. Does auntie +know?" + +Instantly two pairs of questioning eyes were turned upon her. That +coupling of herself with her uncle in the matter had not escaped them. + +"Your Aunt Mary knows I am going some time. But she hasn't heard the +latest development, my dear," her uncle said. "But--but you said 'we' +just now?" + +Dave understood. He knew what was coming. But then he understood Betty +as did no one else. He smiled. + +"Of course I said 'we,'" Betty exclaimed, with a laugh which only +served to cloak the resolve that lay behind it. "You are not going +alone. Besides, you can physic people well enough, uncle dear, but you +can't nurse them worth--worth a cent. School's all right, and can get +on without me for a while. Well?" She smiled quickly from one to the +other. "Well, we're ready, aren't we? We can't let this interfere with +our view of the mill." + +Her uncle shook his head. + +"You can't go up there, Betty," he said seriously. "You can't go about +amongst those men. They're good fellows. They're men. But----" he +looked over at Dave as though seeking support, a thing he rarely +needed. But he was dealing with Betty now, and where she was concerned, +there were times when he felt that a little support might be welcome. + +Dave promptly added his voice in support of his friend's protest. + +"You can't go, little Betty," he said. "You can't, little girl," he +reiterated, shaking his shaggy head. "You think you know the +lumber-jacks, and I'll allow you know them a lot. But you don't know +'em up in those camps. They're wild men. They're just as savage as +wolves, and foolish as babes. They're just great big baby men, and as +irresponsible as half-witted schoolboys. I give you my word I can't let +you go up. I know how you want to help us out. I know your big heart. +And I know still more what a help you'd be----" + +"And that's just why I'm going," Betty snapped him up. That one +unfortunate remark undid all the impression his appeal might otherwise +have made. And as the two men realized the finality of her tone, they +understood the hopelessness of turning her from her purpose. + +"Uncle dear," she went on, "please say 'yes.' Because I'm going, and +I'd feel happier with your sanction. Dave," she turned with a smile +upon the lumberman, "you've just got to say 'yes,' or I'll never--never +let you subscribe to any charity or--or anything I ever get up in +Malkern again. Now you two dears, mind, I'm going anyway. I'll just +count three, and you both say 'yes' together." + +She counted deliberately, solemnly, but there was a twinkle in her +brown eyes. + +"One--two--three!" + +And a simultaneous "Yes" came as surely as though neither had any +objection to the whole proceeding. And furthermore, both men joined in +the girl's laugh when they realized how they had been cajoled. To them +she was quite irresistible. + +"I don't know whatever your aunt will say," her uncle said lugubriously. + +"It's not so much what she'll say as--as what may happen up there," +protested Dave, his conscience still pricking him. + +But the girl would have no more of it. + +"You are two dear old--yes, 'old'--sillies. Now, Dave, the mills!" + +Betty carried all before her with these men who were little better than +her slaves. They obeyed her lightest command hardly knowing they obeyed +it. Her uncle's authority, whilst fully acknowledged by her, was +practically non-existent. Her loyalty to him and her love for both her +guardians left no room for the exercise of authority. And Dave--well, +he was her adviser in all things, and like most people who have an +adviser, Betty went her own sweet way, but in such a manner that made +the master of the mills believe that his help and advice were +practically indispensable to her. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE MILLS + + +Dave obediently led the way out of the tally room to the great milling +floor, and at once they were in the heart of his world. + +It was by no means new to Betty; she had seen it all before, but never +had the mills been driven at such a pressure as now, and the sensation +the knowledge gave her was one which demanded the satisfaction of +optical demonstration. She was thrilled with a sense of emergency. The +roar of the machinery carried with it a meaning it had never held +before. There was a current of excitement in the swift, skilful +movements of the sawyers as they handled the mighty logs. + +To her stirred imagination there was a suggestion of superhuman agency, +of some nether world, in the yellow light of the flares which lit that +vast sea of moving rollers. As she gazed out across it at the dim, +distant corners she felt as though at any moment the machinery might +suddenly become manned by hundreds of hideous gnomes, such as she had +read of in the fairy tales. Yet it was all real, real and human, and +Dave was the man who controlled, whose brain and eyes watched over +every detail, whose wonderful skill and power were carrying that +colossal work to the goal of success. As she looked, she sighed. She +envied the man whose genius had made all this possible. + +Above the roar Dave's voice reached her. + +"This is only part of it," he said; "come below." + +And she followed him to the spiral iron staircase which led to the +floor below. Her uncle brought up the rear. + +At ordinary times the lower part of the mills was given over to the +shops for the manufacture of smaller lumber, building stuff, doors and +windows, flooring, and tongue and groove. Betty knew this. She knew +every shop by heart, just as she knew most of the workmen by sight. But +now it was all changed. The partitions had been torn down, and the +whole thrown into one floor. It was a replica of the milling floor +above. + +Here again were the everlasting rollers; here again were the tremendous +logs traveling across and across the floor; here again were the roar +and shriek of the gleaming saws. The girl's enthusiasm rose. Her eyes +wandered from the fascinating spectacle to the giant at her side. She +felt a lump rise in her throat; she wanted to laugh, she wanted to cry; +but she did neither. Only her eyes shone as she gazed at him; and his +plainness seemed to fall from him. She saw the man standing at her +side, but the great ungainly Dave had gone, leaving in his place only +such a hero as her glowing heart could create. + +They stood there watching, watching. None of the three spoke. None of +them had any words. Dave saw and thought. His great unimaginative head +had no care for the picture side of it. His eyes were on the sawyers, +most of them stripped to the waist in the heat of their labors in the +summer night. To him the interest of the scene lay in the precision and +regularity with which log followed log over the rollers, and the skill +with which they were cut. + +Parson Tom, with a little more imagination, built up in his mind the +future prosperity of their beloved valley, and thanked the Almighty +Providence that It had sent them such a man as Dave. But Betty, in +spite of her practical brain, lost sight of all the practical side of +the work. As she watched she was living in such a dream as only comes +once in a lifetime to any woman. At that moment her crown of glory was +set upon Dave's rough head. All she had hoped for, striven for all her +life seemed so small at the thought of him. And the delight of those +moments became almost painful. She had always looked upon him as "her +Dave," her beloved "chum," her adviser, her prop to lean on at all +times. But no. No, no; he was well and truly named. He was no one's +Dave. He was just Dave of the Mills. + +They moved on to a small doorway, and passing along a protected gallery +they worked their way toward the "boom." The place was a vast backwater +of the river, enlarged to accommodate millions of feet of logs. It was +packed with a mass of tumbled lumber, over which, in the dim light +thrown by waste fire, a hundred and more "jacks" could be seen, +clambering like a colony of monkeys, pushing, prizing, easing, pulling +with their peaveys to get the logs freed, so that the grappling tackle +could seize and haul them up out of the water to the milling floors +above. + +Here again they paused and silently gazed at the stupendous work going +on. There was no more room for wonder either in the girl or her uncle. +The maximum had been reached. They could only silently stare. + +Dave was the first to move. His keen eyes had closely watched the work. +He had seen log after log fly up in the grapple of the hydraulic +cranes, he had seen them shot into the gaping jaws of the building, he +had seen that not an idle hand was down there in the boom, and he was +satisfied. Now he wanted to go on. + +"There's the 'waste,'" he said casually. "But I guess you've seen that +heaps, only it's a bit bigger now, and we've had to build two more +'feeders.'" + +Betty answered him, and her tone was unusually subdued. + +"Let's see it all, Dave," she said, almost humbly. + +All her imperiousness had gone, and in its place was an ecstatic desire +to see all and anything that owed its existence to this man. + +Dave strode on. He was quite unconscious of the change that had taken +place in Betty's thoughts of him. To him these things had become +every-day matters of his work. They meant no more to him than the +stepping-stones toward success which every one who makes for +achievement has to tread. + +Their way took them up another iron staircase outside the main +building. At the top of it was an iron gallery, which passed round two +angles of the mill, and terminated at the three feeders, stretching out +from the mills to the great waste fire a hundred yards away. From this +gallery there was an inspiring view of the "everlasting" fire. It had +been lit when the mill first started its operations years ago, and had +been burning steadily ever since; and so it would go on burning as long +as the saws inside continued to rip the logs. + +The feeders were three shafts, supported on iron trestle work, each +carrying an ever-moving, endless bed on which the waste trimmings of +the logs were thrown. These were borne upward and outward for a hundred +yards till the shafts hung high above the blazing mass. Here the +endless band doubled under, and its burden was precipitated below, +where it was promptly devoured by the insatiable flames. + +For some moments they watched the great timber pass on its way to the +fire, and so appalling appeared the waste that Parson Tom protested. + +"This seems to me positively wanton," he said. "Why, the stuff you're +sending on to that fire is perfect lumber. At the worst, what grand +fuel it would make for the villagers." + +Dave nodded his great head. He often felt the same about it. + +"Makes you sicken some to see it go, doesn't it?" he said regretfully. +"It does me. But say, we've got a waste yard full, and the folks in +Malkern are welcome to all they can haul away. Even Mary uses it in her +stoves, but they can't haul or use it fast enough. If it wasn't for +this fire there wouldn't be room for a rat in Malkern inside a year. +Guess it's got to be, more's the pity." + +There was no more to be said, and the three watched the fire in silent +awe. It was a marvelous sight. The dull red-yellow light shone luridly +over everything. The mill on the one hand loomed majestically out of +the dark background of night. The fire, over forty feet in height, lit +the buildings in a curious, uncanny fashion, throwing grotesque and +lurid shadows in every direction. Then all around, on the farther +sides, spread the distant dark outline of ghostly pine woods, whose +native gloom resisted a light, which, by contrast, was so +insignificantly artificial. It gave a weird impression that had a +strong effect upon Betty's rapt imagination. + +Dave again broke the spell. He could not spare too much time, and, as +they moved away, Betty sighed. + +"It's all very, very wonderful," she said, moving along at his side. +"And to think even in winter, no matter what the snowfall, that fire +never goes out." + +Dave laughed. + +"If it rained like it's been raining to-day for six months," he said, +"I don't guess it could raise more than a splutter." Then he turned to +Tom Chepstow. "Is there anything else you'd like to see? You've got +three hours to midnight." + +But the parson had seen enough; and as he had yet to overhaul the +supplies he was to take up to the hill camps, they made their way back +to the tally room. At the rollers on which Mansell was working Dave +paused with Betty, while her uncle went on. + +They watched a great log appear at the opening over the boom. The +chains of the hydraulic crane creaked under their burden. Dave pointed +at it silhouetted against the light of the waste fire beyond. + +"Watch him," he said. "That's Dick Mansell." + +The pride in his tone was amply justified. Mansell was at the opening, +waiting, peavey in hand. They saw the log dripping and swaying as it +was hauled up until its lower end cleared the rollers. On the instant +the sawyer leant forward and plunged his hook into the soft pine bark. +Then he strained steadily and the log came slowly onward. A whistle, +and the crane was eased an inch at a time. The man held his strain, and +the end lowered ever further over the rollers until it touched. Two +more whistles, and the log was lowered faster until it lay exactly +horizontal, and then the rollers carried it in. Once its balance was +passed, the sawyer struck the grappling chains loose with his peavey, +and, with a rattle, they fell clear, while the prostrate giant lumbered +ponderously into the mill. + +It was all done so swiftly. + +Now Mansell sprang to the foremost end and chalked the log as it +traveled. Then, like a cat, he sprang to the rear of it and measured +with his eye. Dissatisfied, he ran to its side and prized it into a +fresh position, glancing down it, much as a rifleman might glance over +his sights. Satisfied at length, he ran on ahead of the moving log to +his saws. Throwing over a lever, he quickened the pace of the gleaming +blade. On came the log. The yielding wood met the merciless fangs of +the saw upon the chalk line, and passed hissing and shrieking on its +way as though it had met with no obstruction. + +The girl took a deep breath. + +"Splendid," she cried. Well as she knew this work, to-night it appealed +to her with a new force, a deeper and more personal interest. + +"Easy as pie," Dave laughed. Then more seriously, "Yet it's dangerous +as--as hell." + +Betty nodded. She knew. + +"But you don't have many accidents, thank goodness." + +Dave shrugged. + +"Not many--considering. But you don't often see a sawyer with perfectly +sound hands. There's generally something missing." + +"I know. Look at Mansell's arm there." Betty pointed at a deep furrow +on the man's forearm. + +"Yes, Mansell's been through it. I remember when he got that. Like an +Indian holds his first scalp as a sign of his prowess, or the knights +of old wore golden spurs as an emblem of their knighthood, the sawyer +minus a finger or so has been literally 'through the mill,' and can +claim proficiency in his calling. But those are not the dangers I was +figgering on." + +Betty waited for him to go on. + +"Yes," he said solemnly. "It's the breaking saw. That's the terror of a +sawyer's life. And just now of mine. It's always in the back of my head +like a black shadow. One breaking saw would do more damage cutting up +this big stuff than it would take a fire to do in an hour. It would be +the next best thing to bursting a charge of dynamite. Take this saw of +Mansell's. A break, a bend out of the truth, the log slips while it's +being cut. Any of these things. You wouldn't think a 'ninety-footer' +could be thrown far. If any of those things happened, good-bye to +anything or anybody with whom it came into contact. But we needn't to +worry. Let's get in there to your uncle." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +BETTY TAKES COVER + + +In the office they found Parson Tom at work with pencil and note-book. +The latter he closed as they came in. + +"For goodness' sake shut that door behind you," he laughed. "I've been +trying to think of the things I need for my journey to-night, but that +uproar makes it well-nigh impossible." + +The words brought Betty back to matters of the moment. Everything had +been forgotten in the interest of her tour of the mills at Dave's side. +Now she realized that time was short, and she too must make her +preparations. + +Dave closed the door. + +"We'd best get down to the barn and fix things there," he said. "Then +you can get right back home and arrange matters with Mary. Betty could +go on and prepare her." + +The girl nodded her approval. + +"Yes," she said, "and I can get my own things together." + +Both men looked at her. + +She answered their challenge at once, but now there was a great change +in her manner. She no longer laughed at them. She no longer carried +things with a high hand. She intended going up to the camps, but it +almost seemed as though she desired their justification to support her +decision. Somehow that tour of the mills at Dave's side had lessened +her belief in herself. + +"Yes," she said, "I know neither of you wants me to go. Perhaps, from +your masculine point of view, you are both right. But--but I want to +go. I do indeed. This is no mere whim. Uncle, speak up and admit the +necessity for nursing. Who on earth is up there to do it? No one." + +Then she turned to Dave, and her earnest eyes were full of almost +humble entreaty. + +"You won't refuse me, Dave?" she said. "I feel I must go. I feel that +some one, some strange voice, is calling to me to go. That my presence +there is needed. I am only a woman, and in these big schemes of yours +it is ridiculous to think that I should play a part. Yet +somehow--somehow---- Oh, Dave, won't you let me help, if only in this +small way? It will be something for me to look back upon when you have +succeeded; something for me to cherish, this thought that I have helped +you even in so small a way. You won't refuse me. It is so little to +you, and it means so--so much to me." + +Her uncle was watching the grave face of the lumberman; and when she +finished he waited, smiling, for the effect of her appeal. + +It was some moments before Dave answered. Betty's eyes were shining +with eager hope, and at last her impatience got the better of her. + +"You said 'yes' once to-night," she urged softly. + +Her uncle's smile broadened. He was glad the onus of this thing was on +the broad shoulders of his friend. + +"Betty," said Dave at last, looking squarely into her eyes, "will you +promise me to keep to the sick camps, and not go about amongst the +'jacks' who aren't sick without your uncle?" + +There was something in the man's eyes which made the girl drop hers +suddenly. She colored slightly, perhaps with vexation. She somehow felt +awkward. And she had never felt awkward with Dave in her life before. +However, she answered him gladly. + +"I promise--promise willingly." + +"Then I'll not go back on my promise. Go and get ready, little girl," +he said gently. + +She waited for no more. Her eyes thanked him, and for once, though he +never saw it, nor, if he had, would he have understood it, there was a +shyness in them such as had never been there before. + +As the door closed behind her he turned with a sigh to his old friend. + +"Well, Tom," he said, with a dry, half regretful smile, "it strikes me +there are a pair of fools in this room." + +The parson chuckled delightedly. + +"But one is bigger than the other. You wait until Mary sees you. My +word!" + + +Betty hurried out of the mill. She knew the time was all too short; +besides, she did not want to give the men time to change their minds. +And then there was still her aunt to appease. + +Outside in the yards the thirsty red sand had entirely lapped up the +day's rain. It was almost as dry as though the summer rains were mere +showers. The night was brilliantly fine, and though as yet there was no +moon, the heavens were diamond-studded, and the milky way spread its +ghostly path sheer across the sky. Half running in her eagerness, the +girl dodged amongst the stacks of lumber, making her way direct to a +point in the fence nearest to her home. To go round to the gates would +mean a long, circuitous route that would waste at least ten minutes. + +As she sped, the din of the mill rapidly receded, and the shadows +thrown by the flare lights of the yards behind her lengthened and died +out, merged in the darkness of the night beyond their radiance. At the +fence she paused and looked about for the easiest place to climb. It +was high, and the lateral rails were wide apart. It was all the same +whichever way she looked, so, taking her courage in both hands, and +lifting her skirts knee high, she essayed the task. It was no easy +matter, but she managed it, coming down on the other side much more +heavily than she cared about. Still, in her excited state, she didn't +pause to trouble about a trifle like that. + +She was strangely happy without fully understanding the reason. This +trip to the hills would be a break in the monotony of her daily +routine. But somehow it was not that that elated her. She loved her +work, and at no time wanted to shirk it. No, it was not that. Yet it +was something to do with her going. Something to do with the hill +camps; something to do with helping--Dave--ah! Yes, it was that. She +knew it now, and the knowledge thrilled her with a feeling she had +never before experienced. + +Her course took her through a dense clump of pine woods. She was far +away from the direct trail, but she knew every inch of the way. + +Somehow she felt glad of the cool darkness of those woods. Their depth +of shadow swallowed her up and hid her from all the rest of the world, +and, for the moment, it was good to be alone. She liked the feeling +that no one was near her--not even Dave. She wanted to think it all +out. She wanted to understand herself. This delight that had come to +her, this joy. Dave had promised to let her help him in his great work. +It was too good to be true. How she would work. Yes, she would strain +every nerve to nurse the men back to health, so that there should be no +check in the work. + +Suddenly she paused in her thought. Her heart seemed to stand still, +then its thumping almost stifled her. She had realized her true motive. +Yes, she knew it now. It was not the poor sick men she was thinking of. +She was not thinking of her uncle, who would be slaving for sheer love +of his fellow men. No, it was of Dave she was thinking. Dave--her Dave. + +Now she knew. She loved him. She felt it here, here, and she pressed +both hands over her heart, which was beating tumultuously and thrilling +with an emotion such as she had never known before. Never, even in the +days when she had believed herself in love with Jim Truscott. She +wanted to laugh, to cry aloud her happiness to the dark woods which +crowded round her. She wanted to tell all the world. She wanted +everything about her to know of it, to share in it. Oh, how good God +was to her. She knew that she loved Dave. Loved him with a passion that +swept every thought of herself from her fevered brain. She wanted to be +his slave; his--his all. + +Suddenly her passion-swept thoughts turned hideously cold. What of +Dave? Did he?--could he? No, he looked upon her as his little "chum" +and nothing more. How could it be otherwise? Had he not witnessed her +betrothal to Jim Truscott? Had he not been at her side when she +renounced him? Had he not always looked after her as an elder brother? +Had he---- + +She came to a dead standstill in the heart of the woods, gripped by a +fear that had nothing to do with her thoughts. It was the harsh sound +of a voice. And it was just ahead of her. It rang ominously in her ears +at such an hour, and in such a place. She listened. Who could be in +those woods at that hour of the night? Who beside herself? The voice +was so distinct that she felt it must be very, very near. Then she +remembered how the woods echo, particularly at night, and a shiver of +fear swept over her at the thought that perhaps the sound of her own +footsteps had reached the ears of the owner of the voice. She had no +desire to encounter any drunken lumber-jacks in such a place. Her heart +beat faster, as she cast about in her mind for the best thing to do. + +The voice she had first heard now gave place to another, which she +instantly recognized. The recognition shocked her violently. There +could be no mistaking the second voice. It was Jim Truscott's. Hardly +knowing what she did, she stepped behind a tree and waited. + +"I can't get the other thing working yet," she heard Truscott say in a +tone of annoyance. "It's a job that takes longer than I figured on. +Now, see here, you've got to get busy right away. We must get the +brakes on him right now. My job will come on later, and be the final +check. That's why I wanted you to-night." + +Then came the other voice, and, to the listening girl, its harsh note +had in it a surly discontent that almost amounted to open rebellion. + +"Say, that ain't how you said, Jim. We fixed it so I hadn't got to do a +thing till you'd played your 'hand.' Play it, an' if you fail clear +out, then it's right up to me, an' I'll stick to the deal." + +Enlightenment was coming to Betty. This was some gambling plot. She +knew Jim's record. Some poor wretch was to be robbed. The other man was +of course a confederate. But Jim was talking again. Now his voice was +commanding, even threatening. + +"This is no damned child's play; we're going to have no quibbling. You +want that money, Mansell, and you've got to earn it. It's the spirit of +the bargain I want, not the letter. Maybe you're weakening. Maybe +you're scared. Damn it, man! it's the simplest thing--do as I say +and--the money's yours." + +At the mention of the man's name Betty was filled with wonder. She had +seen Mansell at work in the mill. The night shift was not relieved +until six o'clock in the morning. How then came he there? What was he +doing in company with Jim? + +But now the sawyer's voice was raised in downright anger, and the +girl's alarm leapt again. + +"I said I'd stick to the deal," he cried. Then he added doggedly, "And +a deal's a deal." + +Jim's reply followed in a much lower key, and she had to strain to hear. + +"I'm not going to be fooled by you," he said. "You'll do this job when +I say. When I say, mind----" + +But at this point his voice dropped so low that the rest was lost. And +though Betty strained to catch the words, only the drone of the voices +reached her. Presently even that ceased. Then she heard the sound of +footsteps receding in different directions, and she knew the men had +parted. When the silence of the woods had swallowed up the last sound +she set off at a run for home. + +She thought a great deal about that mysterious encounter on her way. It +was mysterious, she decided. She wondered what she should do about it. +These men were plotting to cheat and rob some of Dave's lumber-jacks. +Wasn't it her duty to try and stop them? She was horrified at the +thought of the depths to which Jim had sunk. It was all so paltry, +so--so mean. + +Then the strangeness of the place they had selected for their meeting +struck her. Why those woods, so remote from the village? A moment's +thought solved the matter to her own satisfaction. No doubt Mansell had +made some excuse to leave the mill for a few minutes, and in order not +to prolong his absence too much, Jim had come out from the village to +meet him. Yes, that was reasonable. + +Finally she decided to tell Dave and her uncle. Dave would find a way +of stopping them. Trust him for that. He could always deal with such +things better--yes, even better than her uncle, she admitted to herself +in her new-born pride in him. + +A few minutes later the twinkling lights through the trees showed her +her destination. Another few minutes and she was explaining to her aunt +that she was off to the hill camps nursing. As had been expected, her +news was badly received. + +"It's bad enough that your uncle's got to go in the midst of his +pressing duties," Mrs. Tom exclaimed with heat. "What about the affairs +of the new church? What about the sick folk right here? What about old +Mrs. Styles? She's likely to die any minute. Who's to bury her with him +away? And what about Sarah Dingley? She's haunted--delusions--and +there's no one can pacify her but him. And now they must needs take +you. It isn't right. You up there amongst all those rough men. It's not +decent. It's----" + +"I know, auntie," Betty broke in. "It's all you say. But--but think of +those poor helpless sick men up there, with no comfort. They've just +got to lie about and either get well, or--or die. No one to care for +them. No one to write a last letter to their friends for them. No one +to see they get proper food, and----" + +"Stuff and nonsense!" her aunt exclaimed. "Now you, Betty, listen to +me. Go, if go you must. I'll have nothing to do with it. It's not with +my consent you'll go. And some one is going to hear what I think about +it, even if he does run the Malkern Mills. If--if Dave wasn't so big, +and such a dear good fellow, I'd like--yes, I'd like to box his ears. +Be off with you and see to your packing, miss, and don't forget your +thickest flannels. Those mountains are terribly cold at nights, even in +summer." Then, as the girl ran off to her room, she exploded in a final +burst of anger. "Well there, they're all fools, and I've no patience +with any of 'em." + +It did not take long for Betty to get her few things together and pitch +them into a grip. The barest necessities were all she required, and her +practical mind guided her instinctively. Her task was quite completed +when, ten minutes later, she heard the rattle of buckboard wheels and +her uncle's cheery voice down-stairs in the parlor. + +Then she hurried across to her aunt's room. She knew her uncle so well. +He wouldn't bother to pack anything for himself. She dragged a large +kit bag from under the bed, and, ransacking the bureau, selected what +she considered the most necessary things for his comfort and flung them +into it. It was all done with the greatest possible haste, and by the +time she had everything ready, her uncle joined her and carried the +grips downstairs. In the meantime Mary Chepstow, all her anger passed, +was busily loading the little table with an ample supper. She might +disapprove her niece's going, she might resent the sudden call on her +husband, but she would see them both amply fed before starting, and +that the buckboard was well provisioned for the road. + +For the most part supper was eaten in silence. These people were so +much in the habit of doing for others, so many calls were made upon +them, that such an occasion as this presented little in the way of +emergency. It was their life to help others, their delight, and their +creed. And Mary's protest meant no more than words, she only hesitated +at the thought of Betty's going amongst these rough lumber-jacks. But +even this, on reflection, was not so terrible as she at first thought. +Betty was an unusual girl, and she expected the unusual from her. So +she put her simple trust in the Almighty, and did all she knew to help +them. + +It was not until the meal was nearly over that Chepstow imparted a +piece of news he had gleaned on his way from the mill. He suddenly +looked up from his plate, and his eyes sought his niece's face. She was +lost in a happy contemplation of the events of that night at the mill. +All her thoughts, all her soul was, at that moment, centred upon Dave. +Now her uncle's voice startled her into a self-conscious blush. + +"Who d'you think I met on my way up here?" he inquired, searching her +face. + +Betty answered him awkwardly. "I--I don't know," she said. + +Her uncle reached for the salad, and helped himself deliberately before +he enlightened her further. + +"Jim Truscott," he said at last, without looking up. + +"Jim Truscott?" exclaimed Aunt Mary, her round eyes wondering. Then she +voiced a thought which had long since passed from her niece's mind. +"What was he doing out here at this hour of the night?" + +The parson shrugged. + +"It seems he was waiting for me. He didn't call here, I s'pose?" + +Mary shook her head. Betty was waiting to hear more. + +"I feel sorry for him," he went on. "I'm inclined to think we've judged +him harshly. I'm sure we have. It only goes to show how poor and weak +our efforts are to understand and help our fellows. He is very, very +repentant. Poor fellow, I have never seen any one so down on his luck. +He doesn't excuse himself. In fact, he blames himself even more than we +have done." + +"Poor fellow," murmured Aunt Mary. + +Betty remained silent, and her uncle went on. + +"He's off down east to make a fresh start. He was waiting to tell me +so. He also wanted to tell me how sorry he was for his behavior to us, +to you, Betty, and he trusted you would find it possible to forgive +him, and think better of him when he was gone. I never saw a fellow so +cut up. It was quite pitiful." + +"When's he going?" Betty suddenly asked, and there was a hardness in +her voice which startled her uncle. + +"That doesn't sound like forgiveness," he said. "Don't you think, my +dear, if he's trying to do better you might----" + +Betty smiled into the earnest face. + +"Yes, uncle, I forgive him everything, freely, gladly--if he is going +to start afresh." + +"Doubt?" + +But Betty still had that conversation in the woods in her mind. + +"I mustn't judge him. His own future actions are all that matter. The +past is gone, and can be wiped out. I would give a lot to see +him--right himself." + +"That is the spirit, dear," Aunt Mary put in. "Your uncle is quite +right: we must forgive him." + +Betty nodded; but remained silent. She was half inclined to tell them +all she had heard, but it occurred to her that perhaps she had +interpreted it all wrong--and yet--anyway, if he were sincere, if he +really meant all he had said to her uncle she must not, had no right to +do, or say, anything that could prejudice him. So she kept silent, and +her uncle went on. + +"He's off to-morrow on the east-bound mail. That's why he was waiting +to see me to-night. He told me he had heard I was going up into the +hills, and waited to catch me before I went. Said he couldn't go away +without seeing me first. I told him I was going physicking, that the +camps were down with fever, and the spread of it might seriously +interfere with Dave's work. He was very interested, poor chap, and +hoped all would come right. He spoke of Dave in the most cordial terms, +and wished he could do something to help. Of course, that's impossible. +But I pointed out that the whole future of Malkern, us all, depended on +the work going through. Dave would be simply ruined if it didn't. +There's a tremendous lot of good in that boy. I always knew it. Once he +gets away from this gambling, and cuts out the whiskey, he'll get right +again. I suggested his turning teetotaler, and he assured me he'd made +up his mind to it. Well, Betty my dear, time's up." + +Chepstow rose from the table and filled his pipe. Betty followed him, +and put on her wraps. Aunt Mary stood by to help to the last. + +It was less than an hour from the time of Betty's return home that the +final farewells were spoken and the buckboard started back for the +mill. Aunt Mary watched them go. She saw them vanish into the night, +and slowly turned back across the veranda into the house. They were her +all, her loved ones. They had gone for perhaps only a few weeks, but +their going made her feel very lonely. She gave a deep sigh as she +began to clear the remains of the supper away. Then, slowly, two +unbidden tears welled up into her round, soft eyes and rolled heavily +down her plump cheeks. Instantly she pulled herself together, and +dashed her hand across her eyes. And once more the steady courage which +was the key-note of her life asserted itself. She could not afford to +give way to any such weakness. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +DISASTER AT THE MILL + + +Night closed in leaden-hued. The threat of storm had early brought the +day to a close, so that the sunset was lost in the massing clouds +banking on the western horizon. + +Summer was well advanced, and already the luxurious foliage of the +valley was affected by the blistering heat. The emerald of the trees +and the grass had gained a maturer hue, and only the darker pines +resisted the searching sunlight. The valley was full ripe, and kindly +nature was about to temper her efforts and permit a breathing space. +The weather-wise understood this. + +Dave was standing at his office door watching the approach of the +electric storm, preparing to launch its thunders upon the valley. Its +progress afforded him no sort of satisfaction. Everybody but himself +wanted rain. It had already done him too much harm. + +He was thinking of the letter he had just received from Bob Mason up in +the hills. Its contents were so satisfactory, and this coming rain +looked like undoing the good his staunch friends in the mountain camps +had so laboriously achieved. + +While Mason reported that the fever still had the upper hand, its +course had been checked; the epidemic had been grappled with and held +within bounds. That was sufficiently satisfactory, seeing Chepstow had +only been up there ten days. Then, too, Mason had had cause to +congratulate himself on another matter. A number of recruits for his +work had filtered through to his camps from Heaven and themselves alone +knew where. This was quite good. These men were not the best of +lumbermen, but under the "camp boss" they would help to keep the work +progressing, which, in the circumstances, was all that could be asked. + +A few minutes later Dave departed into the mills. Since the mill up the +river had been converted and set to work, and Simon Odd had been given +temporary charge of it, he shared with Dawson the work of overseeing. + +As he mounted to the principal milling floor the great syren shrieked +out its summons to the night shift, and sent the call echoing and +reëchoing down the valley. There was no cessation of work. The "relief" +stood ready, and the work was passed on from hand to hand. + +Dave saw his foreman standing close by No. 1, and he recognized the +relief as Mansell. Dawson was watching the man closely, and judging by +the frown on his face, it was plain that something was amiss. He moved +over to him and beckoned him into the office. + +"What's wrong?" he demanded, as soon as the door was closed. + +Dawson was never the man to choose his words when he had a grievance. +That was one of the reasons his employer liked him. He was so rough, +and so straightforward. He had a grievance now. + +"I ain't no sort o' use for these schoolhouse ways," he said, with the +added force of an oath. + +Dave waited for his next attempt. + +"That skunk Mansell. He's got back to-night. He ain't been on the +time-sheet for nigh to a week." + +"You didn't tell me? Still, he's back." + +Dave smiled into the other's angry face, and his manner promptly drew +an explosion from the hot-headed foreman. + +"Yes, he's back. But he wouldn't be if I was boss. That's the sort o' +Sunday-school racket I ain't no use for. He's back, because you say +he's to work right along. Sort of to help him. Yes, he's back. He's +been fightin'-drunk fer six nights, and I'd hate to say he's dead sober +now." + +"Yet you signed him on. Why?" + +"Oh, as to that, he's sober, I guess. But the drink's in him. I tell +you, boss, he's rotten--plumb rotten--when the drink's in him. I know +him. Say----" + +But Dave had had enough. + +"You say he's sober--well, let it go at that. The man can do his work. +That's the important thing to us. Just now we can't bother with his +morals. Still, you'd best keep an eye on him." + +He turned to his books, and Dawson busied himself with the checkers' +sheets. For some time both men worked without exchanging a word, and +the only interruption was the regular coming of the tally boys, who +brought the check slips of the lumber measurements. + +Through the thin partitions the roar of machinery was incessant, and at +frequent intervals the hoarse shouts of the "checkers" reached them. +But this disturbed them not at all. It was what they were used to, what +they liked to hear, for it told of the work going forward without hitch +of any sort. + +At last the master of the mills looked up from a mass of figures. He +had been making careful calculations. + +"We're short, Dawson," he said briefly. + +"Short by half a million feet," the foreman returned, without even +looking round. + +"How's Odd doing up the river?" + +"Good. The machinery's newer, I guess." + +"Yes. But we can't help that. We've no time for installing new +machinery here. Besides, I can't spare the capital." + +Dawson looked round. + +"'Tain't that," he said. "We're short of the right stuff in the boom. +Lestways, we was yesterday. A hundred and fifty logs. We're doing +better to-day. Though not good enough. It's that dogone fever, I guess." + +"What's in the reserve?" + +"Fifteen hundred logs now. I've drew on them mighty heavy. We've used +up that number twice over a'ready. I'm scairt to draw further. You see, +it's a heap better turning out short than using up that. If we're short +on the cut only us knows it. If we finish up our reserve, and have to +shut down some o' the saws, other folks'll know it, and we ain't +lookin' for that trouble." + +Dave closed his book with a slam. All his recent satisfaction was gone +in the discovery of the shortage. He had not suspected it. + +"I must send up to Mason. It's--it's hell!" + +"It's wuss!" + +Dave swung round on his loyal assistant. + +"Use every log in the reserve. Every one, mind. We've got to gamble. If +Mason keeps us short we're done anyway. Maybe the fever will let up, +and things'll work out all right." + +Dave flung his book aside and stood up. His heavy face was more deeply +lined than it had been at the beginning of summer. He looked to be +nearer fifty than thirty. The tremendous work and anxiety were telling. + +"Get out to the shoots," he went on, in a sharp tone of command he +rarely used. "I'll see to the tally. Keep 'em right at it. Squeeze the +saws, and get the last foot out of 'em. Use the reserve till it's done. +We're up against it." + +Dawson understood. He gave his chief one keen glance, nodded and +departed. He knew, no one better, the tremendous burden on the man's +gigantic shoulders. + +Dave watched him go. Then he turned back to the desk. He was not the +man to weaken at the vagaries of ill fortune. Such difficulties as at +the moment confronted him only stiffened his determination. He would +not take a beating. He was ready to battle to the death. He quietly, +yet earnestly, cursed the fever to himself, and opened and reread +Mason's letter. One paragraph held his attention, and he read it twice +over. + + +"If I'm short on the cut you must not mind too much. I can easily make +it up when things straighten out. These hands I'm taking on are mostly +'green.' I can only thank my stars I'm able to find them up here. I +can't think where they come from. However, they can work, which is the +great thing, and though they need considerable discipline--they're a +rebellious lot--I mean to make them work." + + +It was a great thought to the master of the mills that he had such men +as Bob Mason in his service. He glowed with satisfaction at the +thought, and it largely compensated him for the difficulties besetting +him. He put the letter away, and looked over the desk for a memorandum +pad. Failing to find what he required, he crossed over to a large +cupboard at the far corner of the room. It was roomy, roughly built, to +store books and stationery in. The top shelf alone was in use, except +that Dawson's winter overcoat hung in the lower part. It was on the top +shelf that Dave expected to find the pad he wanted. + +As he reached the cupboard a terrific crash of thunder shook the +building. It was right overhead, and pealed out with nerve-racking +force and abruptness. It was the first attack of the threatened storm. +The peal died out and all became still again, except for the shriek of +the saws beyond the partition walls. He waited listening, and then a +strange sound reached him. So used was he to the din of the milling +floor that any unusual sound or note never failed to draw and hold his +attention. A change of tone in the song of the saws might mean so much. +Now this curious sound puzzled him. It was faint, so faint that only +his practiced ears could have detected it, yet, to him, it was +ominously plain. Suddenly it ceased, but it left him dissatisfied. + +He was about to resume his search when again he started; and the look +he turned upon the door had unmistakable anxiety in it. There it was +again, faint, but so painfully distinct. He drew back, half inclined to +quit his search, but still he waited, wondering. The noise was as +though a farrier's rasp was being lightly passed over a piece of +well-oiled steel. At last he made up his mind. He must ascertain its +meaning, and he moved to leave the cupboard. Suddenly a terrific +grinding noise shrieked harshly above the din of the saws. It +culminated in a monstrous thud. Instinctively he sprang back, and was +standing half-inside the cupboard when a deafening crash shook the +mills to their foundations. There was a fearful rending and smashing of +timber. Something struck the walls of the office. It crashed through, +and a smashing blow struck the cupboard door and hurled him against the +inner wall. He thrust out his arms for protection. The door was fast. +He was a prisoner. + +Now pandemonium reigned. Crash on crash followed in rapid succession. +It was as though the office had become the centre of attack for an +overwhelming combination of forces. The walls and floor shivered under +the terrific onslaught. The very building seemed to totter as though an +earthquake were in progress. But at last the end came with a thunder +upon the cupboard door, the panels were ripped like tinder, and +something vast launched itself through the wrecked woodwork. It struck +the imprisoned man in the chest, and in a moment he was pinned to the +wall, gasping under ribs bending to the crushing weight which felt to +be wringing the very life out of him. + +A deadly quiet fell as suddenly as the turmoil had arisen, and his +quick ears told him that the saws were still, and all work had ceased +in the mill. But the pause was momentary. A second later a great +shouting arose. Men's voices, loud and hoarse, reached him, and the +rushing of heavy feet was significant of the disaster. + +And he was helpless, a prisoner. + +He tried to move. His agony was appalling. His ribs felt to be on the +verge of cracking under the enormous weight that held him. He raised +his arms, but the pain of the effort made him gasp and drop them. Yet +he knew he must escape from his prison. He knew that he was needed +outside. + +The shouting grew. It took a definite tone, and became a cry that none +could mistake. Dave needed no repetition of it to convince him of the +dread truth. The fire spectre loomed before his eyes, and horror nigh +drove him to frenzy. + +In his mind was conjured a picture--a ghastly picture, such as all his +life he had dreaded and shut out of his thoughts. His brain suddenly +seemed to grow too big for his head. It grew hot, and his temples +hammered. A surge of blood rose with a rush through his great veins. +His muscles strung tense, and his hands clenched upon the imprisoning +beam. He no longer felt any pain from the crushing weight. He was +incapable of feeling anything. It was a moment when mind and body were +charged with a maddening force that no other time could command. With +his elbows planted against the wall behind him, with his lungs filled +with a deep whistling breath, he thrust at the beam with every ounce of +his enormous strength put forth. + +He knew all his imprisonment meant. Not to himself alone. Not to those +shouting men outside. It was the mills. Hark! Fire! Fire! The cry was +on every hand. The mills--his mills--were afire! + +He struggled as never before in his life had he struggled. He struggled +till the sweat poured from his temples, till his hands lacerated, till +the veins of his neck stood out like straining ropes, till it seemed as +though his lungs must burst. He was spurred by a blind fury, but the +beam remained immovable. + +Hark! The maddening cry filled the air. Fire! Fire! Fire! It was +everywhere driving him, urging him, appealing. It rang in his brain +with an exquisite torture. It gleamed at him in flaming letters out of +the darkness. His mill! + +Suddenly a cry broke from him as he realized the futility of his +effort. It was literally wrung from him in the agony of his soul; nor +was he aware that he had spoken. + +"God, give me strength!" + +And as the cry went up he hurled himself upon the beam with the fury of +a madman. + +Was it in answer to his prayer? The beam gave. It moved. It was so +little, so slight; but it moved. And now, with every fibre braced, he +attacked it in one final effort. It gave again. It jolted, it lifted, +its rough end tearing the flesh of his chest under his clothing. It +tottered for a moment. He struggled on, his bulging eyes and agonized +gasping telling plainly of the strain. Inch by inch it gave before him. +His muscles felt to be wrenching from the containing tissues, his +breathing was spasmodic and whistling, his teeth were grinding +together. It gave further, further. Suddenly, with a crash, it fell, +the door was wrenched from its hinges, and he was free! + +He dashed out into the wreck of his office. All was in absolute +darkness. He stumbled his way over the debris which covered the floor, +and finally reached the shattered remains of the doorway. + +Now he was no longer in darkness. The milling floor was all too +brilliantly lit by the leaping flames down at the "shoot" end of the +No. 1 rollers. He waited for nothing, but ran toward the fire. Beyond, +dimly outlined in the lurid glow, he could see the men. He saw Dawson +and others struggling up the shoot with nozzle and hose, and he put his +hands to his mouth and bellowed encouragement. + +"Five hundred dollars if you get her under!" he cried. + +If any spur were needed, that voice was sufficient. it was the voice of +the master the lumber-jacks knew. + +Dawson on the lead struggled up, and as he came Dave shouted again. + +"Now, boy! Sling it hard! And pass the word to pump like hell!" + +He reached out over the shoot. Dawson threw the nozzle. And as Dave +caught it a stream of water belched from the spout. + +None knew better than he the narrowness of the margin between saving +and losing the mills. Another minute and all would have been lost. The +whole structure was built of resinous pine, than which there is nothing +more inflammable. The fire had got an alarming hold even in those few +minutes, and for nearly an hour victory and disaster hung in the +balance. Nor did Dave relinquish his post while any doubt remained. It +was not until the flames were fully under control that he left the +lumber-jacks to complete the work. + +He was weary--more weary than he knew. It seemed to him that in that +brief hour he had gone through a lifetime of struggle, both mental and +physical. He was sore in body and soul. This disaster had come at the +worst possible time, and, as a result, he saw in it something like a +week's delay. The thought was maddening, and his ill humor found vent +in the shortness of his manner when Dawson attempted to draw him aside. + +"Out with it, man," he exclaimed peevishly. + +Dawson hesitated. He noticed for the first time the torn condition of +his chief's clothes, and the blood stains on the breast of his shirt. +Then he blurted out his thankfulness in a tone that made Dave regret +his impatience. + +"I'm a'mighty thankful you're safe, boss," he said fervently. Then, +after a pause, "But you--you got the racket? You're wise to it?" + +Dave shrugged. Reaction had set in. Nothing seemed to matter, the cause +or anything. The mill was safe. He cared for nothing else. + +"Something broke, I s'pose," he said almost indifferently. + +"Sure. Suthin' bust. It bust on purpose. Get it?" + +The foreman's face lit furiously as he made his announcement. + +Dave turned on him. All his indifference vanished in a twinkling. + +"Eh? Not--not an accident?" + +In an access of loyal rage Dawson seized him by the arm in a nervous +clutch, and tried to drag him forward. + +"Come on," he cried. "Let's find him. It's Mansell!" + +With a sudden movement Dave flung him off, and the force he used nearly +threw the foreman off his feet. His eyes were burning like two live +coals. + +"Come on!" he cried harshly, and Dawson was left to follow as he +pleased. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE LAST OF THE SAWYER + + +Dave's lead took the foreman in the direction of the wrecked office. +Now, in calmer moments, the full extent of the damage became apparent. +The first three sets of rollers were hopelessly wrecked, and the saws +were twisted and their settings broken and contorted out of all +recognition. Then the fire had practically destroyed the whole of the +adjacent northwest corner of the mill. The office was a mere skeleton, +a shattered shell, and the walls and flooring adjoining had been torn +and battered into a complete ruin. In the midst of all this, half a +dozen heavy logs, in various stages of trimming, lay scattered about +where the machinery happened to have thrown them. + +It was a sickening sight to the master of the mills, but in his present +mood he put the feeling from him, lost in a furious desire to discover +the author of the dastardly outrage. + +He paused for a moment as one great log lying across half a dozen of +the roller beds barred his way. He glanced swiftly over the wreckage. +Then he turned to the man following him. + +"Any of the boys cut up?" he inquired. + +"Some o' them is pretty mean damaged," Dawson replied. "But it ain't +too bad, I guess. I 'lows it was sheer luck. But ther's Mansell. We +ain't located him." + +Mansell was uppermost in his mind. He could think of nothing, and no +one, else. He wanted to get his hands about the fellow's throat. In his +rage he felt that the only thing to give him satisfaction at the moment +would be to squeeze the fellow's life slowly out of him. Dawson was a +savage when roused, nor did he make pretense of being otherwise. If he +came across the sawyer--well, perhaps it was a good thing that Dave was +with him--that is, a good thing for Mansell. + +Dave scrambled over the log and the two men hurried on to the saw that +had been Mansell's. Neither spoke until this was reached. Then Dave +turned. + +"Say, go you right on over by the crane and rake around there. Maybe he +jumped the boom and got out that way. I'll be along directly." + +It was a mere excuse. He wanted to investigate alone. The foreman +obeyed, although reluctantly. + +The moment he was gone, Dave jumped up on the rollers to examine the +machinery that had held the saw. The light of the dying fire was +insufficient, and he was forced to procure a lantern. His first anger +had passed now, and he was thoroughly alert. His practiced eye lost no +detail that could afford the least possible clue to the cause of the +smash. Dawson had said it was Mansell, and that it was no accident. But +then he knew well enough that Dawson had a bad enough opinion of the +sawyer, and since the smash had apparently originated on No. 1, he had +probably been only too glad to jump to the conclusion. For himself, he +was personally determined to avoid any prejudice. + +He quickly discovered that the saw in question had been broken off +short. The settings were desperately twisted, and he knew that the +force capable of doing this could have only been supplied by the +gigantic log that had been trimming at the moment. Therefore the +indication must come from the saw itself. He searched carefully, and +found much of the broken blade. The upper portions were broken clean. +There was neither dinge nor bend in them. But the lower portions were +less clean. One piece particularly looked as though a sharp instrument +had been at work upon it. Then the memory of that faint rasping sound, +which had been the first thing to attract his attention before the +smash, came back to him. He grew hot with rising anger, and stuffed the +piece of saw-blade inside his shirt. + +"The cur!" he muttered. "Why? Why? Guess Dawson was right, after all. +The liquor _was_ in him. But why should he try to smash us?" + +He jumped down to the alleyway, intending to join his foreman, when a +fresh thought occurred to him. He looked over at the remains of the +office, then he glanced up and down at the broken rollers of No. 1. And +his lips shut tight. + +"I was in there," he said to himself, with his eyes on the wrecked +office, "and--he knew it." + +At that moment Dawson's excited voice interrupted him. "Say, boss, come +right along here. Guess I've got him." + +Dave joined him hurriedly. He found the foreman bending over a baulk of +timber, one that had evidently been hurled there in the smash. It was +lying across the sill of the opening over the boom, projecting a long +way out. Beneath it, just where it rested on the sill, but saved from +its full weight by the cant at which it was resting, a human figure was +stretched out face downward. + +Dawson was examining the man's face when Dave reached him, and started +to explain hurriedly. + +"I didn't rightly rec'nize him," he said. "Y'see he's got out of his +workin' kit. Might ha' bin goin' to the Meetin'. He was sure lightin' +out of here for keeps." + +To Dave the prostrate figure suggested all that the foreman said. The +man had calculated that smash--manufactured it. No more evidence was +needed. He had got himself ready for a bolt for safety, preferring the +boom as offering the best means of escape and the least chance of +detection. Once outside there would be no difficulty in getting away. +As Dawson said, his clothes suggested a hurried journey. They were the +thick frieze the lumber-jack wears in winter, and would be ample +protection for summer nights out in the open. Yes, it had been +carefully thought out. But the reason of this attack on himself puzzled +him, and he repeatedly asked himself "Why?" + +There could not be much question as to the man's condition. If he were +not yet dead, he must be very near it, for the small of his back was +directly under the angle of the beam and crushed against the sill. Dave +stood up from his examination. + +"Get one of the boys, quick," he said. "Start him out at once for Doc +Symons, over at High River. It's only fifteen miles. He'll be along +before morning anyhow. I'll carry--this down to the office. Don't say a +word around the mill. We've just had an--accident. See? And say, +Dawson, you're looking for a raise, and you're going to get it, that is +if this mill's in full work this day week. We're short of logs--well, +this'll serve as an excuse for saws being idle. 'It's an ill wind,' eh? +Meantime, get what saws you can going. Now cut along." + +The foreman's gratitude shone in his eyes. Had Dave given him the least +encouragement he would undoubtedly have made him what he considered an +elegant speech of thanks, but his employer turned from him at once and +set about releasing the imprisoned man. As soon as he had prized the +beam clear he gathered him up in his arms and bore him down the spiral +staircase to the floor below. Then he hurried on to his office with his +burden. + +And as he went he wondered. The sawyer might dislike Dawson. But he had +no cause for grudge against him, Dave. Then why had he waited until he +was alone in the tally room? The whole thing looked so like a direct +attack upon himself, rather than on the mills, that he was more than +ever puzzled. He went back over the time since he had employed Mansell, +and he could not remember a single incident that could serve him as an +excuse for such an attack. It might have been simply the madness of +drink, and yet it seemed too carefully planned. Yes, that was another +thing. Mansell had been on the drink for a week, "fighting-drunk," +Dawson had said. In the circumstances it was not reasonable for him to +plan the thing so carefully. Then a sudden thought occurred to him. +Were there others in it? Was Mansell only the tool? + +He was suddenly startled by a distinct sound from the injured man. It +was the sawyer's voice, harsh but inarticulate, and it brought with it +a suggestion that he might yet learn the truth. He increased his pace +and reached the office a few moments later. + +Here he prepared a pile of fur rugs upon the floor and laid the sawyer +upon it. Then he waited for some minutes, but, as nothing approaching +consciousness resulted, he finally left him, intending to return again +when the doctor arrived. There was so much to be done in the mill that +he could delay his return to it no longer. + +It was nearly four hours later when he went back to his office. He had +seen the work of salvage in order, and at last had a moment to spare to +attend to himself. He needed it. He was utterly weary, and his +lacerated chest was giving him exquisite pain. + +He found Mansell precisely as he left him. Apparently there had been no +movement of any sort. He bent over him and felt his heart. It was +beating faintly. He lifted the lids of his closed eyes, and the +eyeballs moved as the light fell upon them. + +He turned away and began to strip himself of his upper garments. There +was a gash in his chest fully six inches long, from which the blood was +steadily, though sluggishly, flowing. His clothes were saturated and +caked with it. He bathed the wound with the drinking water in the +bucket, and tearing his shirt into strips made himself a temporary +bandage. This done, he turned to his chair to sit down, when, glancing +over at the sick man, he was startled to find his eyes open and staring +in his direction. + +He at once went over to him. + +"Feeling better, Mansell?" he inquired. + +The man gave no sign of recognition. His eyes simply stared at him. For +a moment he thought he was dead, but a faint though steady breathing +reassured him. Suddenly an idea occurred to him, and he went to a +cupboard and produced a bottle of brandy. Pouring some out into a tin +cup, with some difficulty he persuaded it into Mansell's mouth. Then he +waited. The staring eyes began to move, and there was a decided +fluttering of the eyelids. A moment later the lips moved, and an +indistinct but definite sound came from them. + +"How are you now?" Dave asked. + +There was another long pause, during which the man's eyes closed again. +Then they reopened, and he deliberately turned his head away. + +"You--didn't--get--hurt?" he asked, in faint, spasmodic gasps. + +"No." Dave leaned over him. "Have some more brandy?" + +The man turned his head back again. He didn't answer, but the look in +his eyes was sufficient. This time Dave poured out more, and there was +no difficulty in administering it. + +"Well?" he suggested, as the color slowly crept over the man's face. + +"Good--goo----" + +The sound died away, and the eyes closed again. But only to reopen +quickly. + +"He--said--you'd--get--killed," he gasped. + +"He--who?" + +"Jim." + +The sawyer's eyelids drooped again. Without a moment's hesitation Dave +plied him with more of the spirit. + +"You mean Truscott?" he asked sharply. He was startled, but he gave no +sign. He realized that at any time the man might refuse to say more. +Then he added: "He's got it in for me." + +The sick man remained perfectly still for some seconds. His brain +seemed to move slowly. When he did speak, his voice had grown fainter. + +"Yes." + +Dave's face was hard and cold as he looked down at him. He was just +about to formulate another question, when the door opened and Dr. +Symons hurried in. He was a brisk man, and took the situation in at a +glance. + +"A smash?" he inquired. Then, his eyes on the bottle at Dave's side: +"What's that--brandy?" + +"Brandy." The lumberman passed it across to him. "Yes, a smash-up. This +poor chap's badly damaged, I'm afraid. Found him with a heavy beam +lying across the small of his back. You were the nearest doctor, so I +sent for you. Eh? oh, yes," as the doctor pointed at the blood on his +clothes. "When you've finished with him you can put a stitch in +me--some of the boys too. I'll leave you to it, Doc, they'll need me in +the mill. I gave him brandy, and it roused him to consciousness." + +"Right. You might get back in half an hour." + +Dr. Symons moved over to the sick man, and Dave put on his coat and +left the office. + +When he returned the doctor met him with a grave face. + +"What's the night like?" he asked. "I've got to ride back." + +He went to the door, and Dave followed him out. + +"His back is broken," he said, when they were out of ear-shot. "It's +just a question of hours." + +"How many?" + +"Can't say with any certainty. It's badly smashed, and no doubt other +things besides. Paralysis of the----" + +"Has he said anything? Has he shown any inclination to talk?" + +"No. That is, he looked around the room a good deal as though looking +for some one. Maybe you." + +"Can nothing be done for the poor chap?" + +"Nothing. Better get him a parson. I'll come over to-morrow to see him, +if he's alive. Anyway I'll be needed to sign a certificate. I must get +back to home by daylight. I've got fever patients. Now just come +inside, and I'll fix you up. Then I'll go and see to the boys. After +that, home." + +"You're sure nothing----" + +"Plumb sure! Sure as I am you're going to have a mighty bad chest if +you don't come inside and let me stop that oozing blood I see coming +through your clothes." + +Without further protest Dave followed the doctor into the office, and +submitted to the operation. + +"That's a rotten bad place," he assured him, in his brisk way. "You'll +have to lie up. You ought to be dead beat from loss of blood. Gad, man, +you must go home, or I won't answer----" + +But Dave broke in testily. + +"Right ho, Doc, you go and see to the boys. Send your bill in to me for +the lot." + +As soon as he had gone, Dave sat thoughtfully gazing at the doomed +sawyer. Presently he glanced round at the brandy bottle. The doctor had +positively said the poor fellow was doomed. He rose from his seat and +poured out a stiff drink. Then he knelt down, and supporting the man's +head, held it to his lips. He drank it eagerly. Dave knew it had been +his one pleasure in life. Then he went back to his chair. + +"Feeling comfortable?" he inquired gently. + +"Yes, boss," came the man's answer promptly. Then, "Wot did the Doc +say?" + +"Guess you're handing in your checks," Dave replied, after a moment's +deliberation. + +The sawyer's eyes were on the brandy bottle. + +"How long?" he asked presently. + +"Maybe hours. He couldn't say." + +"'E's wrong, boss. 'Tain't hours. I'm mighty cold, an'--it's creepin' +up quick." + +Dave looked at his watch. It was already past two o'clock. + +"He said he'd come and see you in the morning." + +"I'll be stiff by then," the dying man persisted, with his eyes still +on the bottle. "Say, boss," he went on, "that stuff's a heap +warming--an' I'm cold." + +Dave poured him out more brandy. Then he took off his own coat and laid +it over the man's legs. His fur coat and another fur robe were in the +cupboard, and these he added. And the man's thanks came awkwardly. + +"I can't send for a parson," Dave said regretfully, after a few +moments' silence. "I'd like to, but Parson Tom's away up in the hills. +It's only right----" + +"He's gone up to the hills?" the sick man interrupted him, as though +struck by a sudden thought. + +"Yes. It's fever." + +Mansell lay staring straight up at the roof. And as the other watched +him he felt that some sort of struggle was going on in his slowly +moving mind. Twice his lips moved as though about to speak, but for a +long time no sound came from them. The lumberman felt extreme pity for +him. He had forgotten that this man had so nearly ruined him, so nearly +caused his death. He only saw before him a dimly flickering life, a +life every moment threatening to die out. He knew how warped had been +that life, how worthless from a purely human point of view, but he felt +that it was as precious in the sight of One as that of the veriest +saint. He racked his thoughts for some way to comfort those last dread +moments. + +Presently the dying man's head turned slightly toward him. + +"I'm goin', boss," he said with a gasp. "It's gettin' up--the cold." + +"Will you have--brandy?" + +The lighting of the man's eyes made a verbal answer unnecessary. Dave +gave him nearly half a tumbler, and his ebbing life flickered up again +like a dying candle flame. + +"The Doc said you wus hurt bad, boss. I heard him. I'm sorry--real +miser'ble sorry--now." + +"Now?" + +"Yep--y' see I'm--goin'." + +"Ah." + +"I'm kind o' glad ther' ain't no passon around. Guess ther's a heap I +wouldn't 'a' said to him." + +The dying man's eyes closed for a moment. Dave didn't want to break in +on his train of thought, so he kept silent. + +"Y' see," Mansell went on again almost at once, "he kind o' drove me to +it. That an' the drink. He give me the drink too. Jim's cur'us mean by +you." + +"But Jim's gone east days ago." + +"No, he ain't. He's lyin' low. He ain't east now." + +"You're sure?" Dave's astonishment crept into his tone. + +Mansell made a movement which implied his certainty. + +"He was to give me a heap o' money. The money you give fer his mill. He +wants you smashed. He wants the mill smashed. An' I did it. Say, I bust +that saw o' mine, an' she was a beaut'," he added, with pride and +regret. "I got a rasp on to it. But it's all come back on me. Guess +I'll be goin' to hell fer that job--that an' others. Say, boss----" + +He broke off, looking at the brandy bottle. Dave made no pretense at +demur. The man was rapidly dying, and he felt that the spirit gave him +a certain ease of mind. The ethics of his action did not trouble him. +If he could give a dying man comfort, he would. + +"There's no hell for those who are real sorry," he said, when the +fellow had finished his drink. "The good God is so thankful for a man's +real sorrow for doing wrong that He forgives him right out. He forgives +a sight easier than men do. You've nothing to worry over, lad. You're +sorry--that's the real thing." + +"Sure, boss?" + +"Dead sure." + +"Say, boss, I'd 'a' hate to done you up. But ther' was the money, +an'--I wanted it bad." + +"Sure you did. You see we all want a heap the good God don't reckon +good for us----" + +The man's eyes suddenly closed while Dave was speaking. Then they +opened again, and this time they were staring wildly. + +"I'm--goin'," he gasped. + +Dave was on his knees in a second, supporting his head. He poured some +brandy into the gasping mouth, and for a brief moment the man rallied. +Then his breathing suddenly became violent. + +"I'm--done!" he gasped in a final effort, and a moment later the +supporting hand felt the lead-like weight of the lolling head. The man +was dead. + +The lumberman reverently laid the head back upon the rugs, and for some +minutes remained where he was kneeling. His rough, plain face was +buried in his hands. Then he rose to his feet and stood looking down +upon the lifeless form. A great pity welled up in his heart. Poor +Mansell was beyond the reach of a hard fate, beyond the reach of +earthly temptation and the hard knocks of men. And he felt it were +better so. He covered the body carefully over with the fur robe, and +sat down at his desk. + +He sat there for some minutes listening to the sounds of the workers at +the mills. He was weary--so weary. But at last he could resist the call +no longer, and he went out to join in the labor that was his very life. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +FACE TO FACE + + +For the few remaining hours of night Dave took no leisure. He pressed +forward the work of repairing the damage, with a zest that set Joel +Dawson herding his men on to almost superhuman feats. There was no rest +taken, no rest asked. And it said something for the devotion of these +lumber-jacks to their employer that no "grouse" or murmur was heard. + +The rest which the doctor had ordered Dave to take did not come until +long after his breakfast hour, and then only it came through sheer +physical inability to return to his work. His breakfast was brought to +the office, and he made a weak pretense of eating. Then, as he rose +from his seat, for the first time in his life he nearly fainted. He +saved himself, however, by promptly sitting down again, and in a few +seconds his head fell forward on his chest and he was sound asleep, +lost in the dreamless slumber of exhaustion. + +Two hours later Dawson put his head in through the office doorway. He +saw the sleeping man and retreated at once. He understood. For himself, +he had not yet come to the end of his tether. Besides, Simon Odd would +relieve him presently. Then, too, there were others upon whom he could +depend for help. + +It was noon when a quiet tap came at the office door. Dave's old mother +peeped in. She had heard of the smash and was fearful for her boy. +Seeing him asleep she tiptoed across the room to him. She had met the +postmaster on her way, and brought the mail with her. Now she deposited +it on his desk and stood looking down at the great recumbent figure +with eyes of the deepest love and anxiety. All signs of his lacerated +chest were concealed and she was spared what would have been to her a +heartbreaking sight. Her gentle heart only took in the unutterably +weary attitude of the sleeper. That was sufficient to set her shaking +her gray head and sighing heavily. The work, she told herself sadly, +was killing him. Nor did she know at the moment how near to the truth +she was. + +For a moment she bent over him, and her aged lips lightly touched his +mass of wiry hair. To the world he might be unsightly, he might be +ungainly, he might be--well, all he believed himself to be; to her he +possessed every beauty, every virtue a doting mother can bestow upon +her offspring. + +She passed out of the office as silently as she came, and the man's +stertorous breathing rose and fell steadily, the only sound in that +room of death. + +Two hours later he awoke with a start. A serving girl blundered into +the room with a basket of food. His mother had sent over his dinner. + +The girl's apologies were profuse. + +"I jest didn't know, Mr. Dave. I'm sure sorry. Your ma sent me over +with these things, an' she said as I was to set 'em right out for you. +Y' see she didn't just say you was sleepin', she----" + +"All right, Maggie," Dave said kindly. Then he looked at his watch, and +to his horror found it was two o'clock. He had slept the entire morning +through. + +He swiftly rose from his seat and stretched himself. He was stiff and +sore, and that stretch reminded him painfully of his wounded chest. +Then his eyes fell upon the ominous pile of furs in the corner. Ah, +there was that to see to. + +He watched the girl set out his dinner and remembered he was hungry. +And the moment she left the room he fell upon the food with avidity. +Yes, he felt better--much better, and he was glad. He could return to +his work, and see that everything possible was done, and then there +was--that other matter. + +He had just finished his food when Dr. Symons came in with an apology +on his lips. + +"A bit late," he exclaimed. "Sorry I couldn't make it before. Ah," his +quick eyes fell upon the pile of furs. "Dead?" he inquired. + +Dave nodded. + +"Sure," the other rattled on. "Had to be. Knew it. Well, there are more +good sawyers to be had. Let's look at your chest." + +Dave submitted, and then the doctor, at the lumberman's request, went +off with a rush to see about the arrangements for the sawyer's burial. + +He had hardly left the place, and Dave was just thinking of going +across to the mill again, when there was another call. He was standing +at the window. He wanted to return at once to his work, but for some, +to him, unaccountable reason he was a prey to a curious reluctance; it +was a form of inertia he had never before experienced, and it half +annoyed him, yet was irresistibly fascinating. He stood there more or +less dreamily, watching the buzzing flies as they hurled themselves +against the dirty glass panes. He idly tried to count them. He was not +in the least interested, but at that moment, as a result of his wound +and his weariness, his brain felt that it needed the rest of such +trivialities. + +It was while occupied in this way that he saw Jim Truscott approaching, +and the sight startled him into a mental activity that just then his +best interests in the mills failed to stir him to. + +Then Mansell had told the truth. Jim had not gone east as he had +assured Tom Chepstow it was his intention to do. Why was he coming to +him now? A grim thought passed through his mind. Was it the fascination +which the scene of a crime always has for the criminal? He sat down at +his desk, and, when his visitor's knock came, appeared to be busy with +his mail. + +Truscott came in. Dave did not look up, but the tail of his eye warned +him of a peculiarly furtive manner in his visitor. + +"Half a minute," he said, in a preoccupied tone. "Just sit down." + +The other silently obeyed, while Dave tore open a telegram at +haphazard, and immediately became really absorbed in its contents. + +It was a wire from his agent in Winnipeg, and announced that the +railroad strike had been settled, and the news would be public property +in twenty-four hours. It further told him that he hoped in future he +would have no further hitch to report in the transportation of the +Malkern timber, and that now he could cope with practically any +quantity Dave might ship down. The news was very satisfactory, except +for the reminder it gave him of the disquieting knowledge that his +mills were temporarily wrecked, and he could not produce the quantities +the agent hoped to ship. At least he could not produce them for some +days, and--yes, there was that shortage from the hills to cope with, +too. + +This brought him to the recollection that the author of half his +trouble was in the office, and awaiting his pleasure. He turned at once +to his visitor, and surveyed him closely from head to foot. + +Truscott was sitting with his back to the pile of rugs concealing the +dead sawyer. Presently their eyes met, and in the space of that glance +the lumberman's thought flowed swiftly. Nor, when he spoke, did his +tone suggest either anger or resentment, merely a cool inquiry. + +"You--changed your mind?" he said. + +"What about?" Truscott was on the defensive at once. + +"You didn't go east, then?" + +The other's gaze shifted at once, and his manner suggested annoyance +with himself for his display. + +"Oh, yes. I went as far as Winnipeg. Guess I got hung up by the strike, +so--so I came back again. Who told you?" + +"Tom Chepstow." + +Truscott nodded. It was some moments before either spoke again. There +was an awkwardness between them which seemed to increase every second. +Truscott was thinking of their last meeting, and--something else. Dave +was estimating the purpose of this visit. He understood that the man +had a purpose, and probably a very definite one. + +Suddenly the lumberman rose from his seat as though about to terminate +the interview, and his movement promptly had the effect he desired. +Truscott detained him at once. + +"You had a bad smash, last night. That's why I came over." + +Dave smiled. It was just the glimmer of a smile, and frigid as a polar +sunbeam. As he made no answer, the other was forced to go on. + +"I'm sorry, Dave," he continued, with a wonderful display of sincerity. +Then he hesitated, but finally plunged into a labored apology. "I dare +say Parson Tom has told you something of what I said to him the night +he went away. He went up to clear out the fever for you, didn't he? +He's a good chap. I hoped he'd tell you anyway. I just--hadn't the face +to come to you myself after what had happened between us. Look here, +Dave, you've treated me 'white' since then--I mean about that mill of +mine. You see--well, I can't just forget old days and old friendships. +They're on my conscience bad. I want to straighten up. I want to tell +you how sorry I am for what I've done and said in the past. You'd have +done right if you'd broken my neck for me. I went east as I said, and +all these things hung on my conscience like--like cobwebs, and I'm +determined to clear 'em away. Dave, I want to shake hands before I go +for good. I want you to try and forget. The strike's over now, and I'm +going away to-day. I----" + +He broke off. It seemed as though he had suddenly realized the +frigidity of Dave's silence and the hollow ring of his own professions. +It is doubtful if he were shamed into silence. It was simply that there +was no encouragement to go on, and, in spite of his effrontery, he was +left confused. + +"You're going to-day?" Dave's calmness gave no indication of his +feelings. Nor did he offer to shake hands. + +Truscott nodded. Then-- + +"The smash--was it a very bad one?" + +"Pretty bad." + +"It--it won't interfere with your work--I hope?" + +"Some." + +Dave's eyes were fixed steadily upon his visitor, who let his gaze +wander. There was something painfully disconcerting in the lumberman's +cold regard, and in the brevity of his replies. + +"Doc Symons told me about it," the other went on presently. "He was +fetched here in the night. He said you were hurt. But you seem all +right." + +Dave made it very hard for him. There were thoughts in the back of his +head, questions that must be answered. For an instant a doubt swept +over him, and his restless eyes came to a standstill on the rugged face +of the master of the mills. But he saw nothing there to reassure him, +or to give him cause for alarm. It was the same as he had always known +it, only perhaps the honest gray eyes lacked their kindly twinkle. + +"Yes, I'm all right. Doc talks a heap." + +"Did he lie?" + +Dave shrugged. + +"It depends what he calls hurt. Some of the boys were hurt." + +"Ah. He didn't mention them." + +Again the conversation languished. + +"I didn't hear how the smash happened," Truscott went on presently. + +Dave's eyes suddenly became steely. + +"It was Mansell's saw. Something broke. Then we got afire. I just got +out--a miracle. I was in the tally room." + +The lumberman's brevity had in it the clip of snapping teeth. If +Truscott noticed it, it suited him to ignore it. He went on quickly. +His interest was rising and sweeping him on. + +"On Mansell's saw!" he said. "When I heard you'd got him working I +wondered. He's bad for drink. Was he drunk?" + +Dave's frigidity was no less for the smile that accompanied his next +words. + +"Maybe he'd been drinking." + +But Truscott was not listening. He was thinking ahead, and his next +question came with almost painful sharpness. + +"Did he get--smashed?" + +"A bit." + +"Ah. Was he able to account for the--accident?" + +The man was leaning forward in his anxiety, and his question was +literally hurled at the other. There was a look, too, in his bleared +eyes which was a mixture of devilishness and fear. All these things +Dave saw. But he displayed no feeling of any sort. + +"Accidents don't need explaining," he said slowly. "But I didn't say +this was an accident. Here, get your eye on that." + +He drew a piece of saw-blade from his pocket. It was the piece he had +picked up in the mill. + +"Guess it's the bit where it's 'collared' by the driving arm." + +Truscott examined the steel closely. + +"Well?" + +"It's--just smashed?" Truscott replied questioningly. + +Dave shook his head. + +"You can see where it's been filed." + +Truscott reexamined it and nodded. + +"I see now. God!" + +The exclamation was involuntary. It came at the sudden realization of +how well his work had been carried out, and what that work meant. Dave, +watching, grasped something of its meaning. There was that within him +which guided him surely in the mental workings of his fellow man. He +was looking into the very heart of this man who had so desperately +tried to injure him. And what he saw, though he was angered, stirred +him to a strange pity. + +"It's pretty mean when you think of it," he said slowly. "Makes you +think some, doesn't it? Makes you wonder what folks are made of. If you +hated, could you have done it? Could you have deliberately set out to +ruin a fellow--to take his life? The man that did this thing figured on +just that." + +"Did he say so?" + +Truscott's face had paled, and a haunting fear looked out of his eyes. +It was the thought of discovery that troubled him. + +Dave ignored the interruption, and went on with his half-stern, +half-pitying regard fixed upon the other. + +"Had things gone right with him, and had the fire got a fair hold, +nothing could have saved us." He shook his head. "That's a mean hate +for a man I've never harmed. For a man I've always helped. You couldn't +hate like that, Truscott? You couldn't turn on the man that had so +helped you? It's a mean spirit; so mean that I can't hate him for it. +I'm sorry--that's all." + +"He must be a devil." + +The fear had gone out of Truscott's eyes. All his cool assurance had +returned. Dave was blaming the sawyer, and he was satisfied. + +The lumberman shrugged his great shoulders. + +"Maybe he is. I don't know. Maybe he's only a poor weak foolish fellow +whose wits are all mussed up with brandy, and so he just doesn't know +what he's doing." + +"The man who filed that steel knew what he was doing," cried Truscott. + +"Don't blame him," replied Dave--his deep voice full and resonant like +an organ note. + +But Truscott had achieved his object, and he felt like expanding. Dave +knew nothing. Suspected nothing. Mansell had played the game for +him--or perhaps---- + +"I tell you it was a diabolical piece of villainy on the part of a cur +who----" + +"Don't raise your voice, lad," said Dave, with a sudden solemnity that +promptly silenced the other. "Reach round behind you and lift that fur +robe." + +He had risen from his seat and stood pointing one knotty finger at the +corner where the dead man was lying. His great figure was full of +dignity, his manner had a command in it that was irresistible to the +weaker man. + +Truscott turned, not knowing what to expect. For a second a shudder +passed over him. It spent itself as he beheld nothing but the pile of +furs. But he made no attempt to reach the robe until Dave's voice, +sternly commanding, urged him again. + +"Lift it," he cried. + +And the other obeyed even against his will. He reached out, while a +great unaccountable fear took hold of him and shook him. His hand +touched the robe. He paused. Then his fingers closed upon its furry +edge. He lifted it, and lifting it, beheld the face of the dead sawyer. +Strangely enough, the glazed eyes were open, and the head was turned, +so that they looked straight into the eyes of the living. + +The hand that held the robe shook. The nerveless fingers relinquished +their hold, and it fell back to its place and shut out the sight. But +it was some moments before the man recovered himself. When he did so he +rose from his chair and moved as far from the dead man as possible. +This brought him near the door, and Dave followed him up. + +"He's dead!" + +Truscott whispered the words half unconsciously, and the tone of his +voice was almost unrecognizable. It sounded like inquiry, yet he had no +need to ask the question. + +"Yes, he's dead--poor fellow," said Dave solemnly. + +Then, after a long pause, the other dragged his courage together. He +looked up into the face above him. + +"Did--did he say why he did it--or was he----" + +It was a stumbling question, which Dave did not let him complete. + +"Yes, he told me all--the whole story of it. That's the door, lad. You +won't need to shake hands--now." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +IN THE MOUNTAINS + + +It was Sunday evening. Inside a capacious "dugout" a small group of two +men and a girl sat round the stove which had just been lit. + +In the mountains, even though the heat of August was still at its +height, sundown was the signal for the lighting of fires. Dave's lumber +camps were high up in the hills, tapping, as they did, the upper forest +belts, where grew the vast primordial timbers. In the extreme heat of +summer the air was bracing, crisp, and suggested the process of +breathing diamonds, but with the setting of the sun a cold shiver from +the ancient glaciers above whistled down through the trees and bit into +the bones. + +The daylight still lingered outside, and the cotton-covered windows of +the dugout let in just sufficient of it to leave the remoter corners of +the hut bathed in rapidly growing shadow. There was a good deal of +comfort in the room, though no luxury. The mud cemented walls were +whitewashed and adorned with illustrations from the _Police Gazette_, +and other kindred papers. For the most part the furniture was of "home" +manufacture. The chairs, and they were all armchairs of sorts, were +mere frames with seats of strung rawhide. The table was of the roughest +but most solid make, strong enough to be used as a chopping-block, and +large enough for an extra bed to be made down upon it. There was a +large cupboard serving the dual purpose of larder and pantry, and, in +addition to the square cook-stove, the room was heated by a giant wood +stove. The only really orthodox piece of furniture was the small +writing-desk. + +For a dugout it was capacious, and, unlike the usual dugout, it +possessed three inner rooms backing into the hill against which it was +built. One of these was a storeroom for dynamite and other camp +equipment, one was a bedroom, and the other was an armory. The +necessity for the latter might be questioned, but Bob Mason, the camp +"boss," the sole authority over a great number of lumber-jacks, more +than a hundred and fifty miles from the faintest semblance of +civilization, was content that it should be there. + +The three faces were serious enough as they gazed down in silence at +the glowing, red-hot patch in the iron roof of the stove, and watched +it spread, wider and wider, under the forced draught of the open +damper. They had been silent for some moments, and before that one of +them had practically monopolized the talk. It was Betty who had done +most of the talking. Bronzed with the mountain air and sun, her cheeks +flushed with interest and excitement, her sweet brown eyes aglow, she +had finished recounting to her uncle and Bob Mason a significant +incident that had occurred to her that afternoon on her way from the +sick camp to the dugout. + +Walking through a patch of forest which cut the sick quarters off from +the main, No. 1, camp, she had encountered two lumber-jacks, whom she +had no recollection of having seen before. + +"They weren't like lumber-jacks," she explained, "except for their +clothes. You can't mistake a lumber-jack's manner and speech, +particularly when he is talking to a girl. He's so self-conscious +and--and shy. Well, these men were neither. Their speech was the same +as ours might be, and their faces, well, they were good-looking +fellows, and might never have been out of a city. I never saw anybody +look so out of place, as they did, in their clothes. There was no +beating about the bush with them. They simply greeted me politely, +asked me if I was Miss Somers, and, when I told them I was, calmly +warned me to leave the hills without delay--not later than to-morrow +night. I asked them for an explanation, but they only laughed, not +rudely, and repeated their warning, adding that you, uncle, had better +go too, or they would not be answerable for the consequences. I +reminded them of the sick folk, but they only laughed at that too. One +of them cynically reminded me they were all 'jacks' and were of no sort +of consequence whatever, in fact, if a few of them happened to die off +no one would care. He made me angry, and I told them we should +certainly care. He promptly retorted, very sharply, that they had not +come there to hold any sort of debate on the matter, but to give me +warning. He said that his reason in doing so was simply that I was a +girl, and that you, uncle, were a much-respected parson, and they had +no desire that any harm should come to either of us. That was all. +After that they turned away and went off into the forest, taking an +opposite direction to the camp." + +Mason was the first to break the silence that followed the girl's story. + +"It's serious," he said, speaking with his chin in his hands and his +elbows resting on his parted knees. + +"The warning?" inquired Chepstow, with a quick glance at the other's +thoughtful face. + +Mason nodded. + +"I've been watching this thing for weeks past," he said, "and the worst +of it is I can't make up my mind as to the meaning of it. There's +something afoot, but---- Do you know I've sent six letters down the +river to Dave, and none of them have been answered? My monthly budget +of orders is a week overdue. That's not like Dave. How long have you +been up here? Seven weeks, ain't it? I've only had three letters from +Dave in that time." + +The foreman flung himself back in his chair with a look of perplexity +on his broad, open face. + +"What can be afoot?" asked Chepstow, after a pause. "The men are +working well." + +"They're working as well as 'scabs' generally do," Mason complained. +"And thirty per cent, are 'scabs,' now. They're all slackers. They're +none of them lumber-jacks. They haven't the spirit of a 'jack.' I have +to drive 'em from morning till night. Oh, by the way, parson, that +reminds me, I've got a note for you. It's from the sutler. I know +what's in it, that is, I can guess." He drew it from his pocket, handed +it across to him. "It's to tell you you can't have the store for +service to-night. The boys want it. They're going to have a singsong +there, or something of the sort." + +The churchman's eyes lit. + +"But he promised me. I've made arrangements. The place is fixed up for +it. They can have it afterward, but----" + +"Hadn't you better read the note, uncle?" Betty said gently. She +detected the rising storm in his vehemence. + +He turned at once to the note. It was short, and its tone, though +apologetic, was decided beyond all question. + + +"You can't have the store to-night. I'm sorry, but the boys insist on +having it themselves. You will understand I am quite powerless when you +remember they are my customers." + + +Tom Chepstow read the message from Jules Lieberstein twice over. Then +he passed it across to Mason. Only the brightness of his eyes told of +his feelings. He was annoyed, and his fighting spirit was stirring. + +"Well, what are you going to do?" Mason inquired, as he passed the +paper on to Betty in response to her silent request. + +"Do? Do?" Chepstow cried, his keen eyes shining angrily. "Why, I'll +hold service there, of course. Jules can't give a thing, and, at the +last minute, take it away like that. I've had the room prepared and +everything. I shall go and see him. I----" + +"The trouble--whatever it is--is in that note, too," Betty interrupted, +returning him the paper with the deliberate intention of checking his +outburst. + +Mason gave her a quick glance of approval. Though he did not approve of +women in a lumber camp, Betty's quiet capacity, her gentle womanliness, +with her great strength of character and keenness of perception +underlying it, pleased him immensely. He admired her, and curiously +enough frequently found himself discussing affairs of the camp with her +as though she were there for the purpose of sharing the burden of his +responsibilities. In the ordinary course this would not have happened, +but she had come at a moment when his difficulties were many and +trying. And at such a time her ready understanding had become decided +moral support which was none the less welcome for the fact that he +failed to realize it. + +"You're right," he nodded. "There's something doing. What's that?" + +All three glanced at the door. And there was a look of uneasiness in +each which they could not have explained. Mason hurried across the room +with Chepstow at his heels. + +Outside, night was closing in rapidly. A gray, misty twilight held the +mountain world in a gloomy shroud. The vast hills, and the dark +woodland belts, loomed hazily through the mist. But the deathly +stillness was broken by the rattle of wheels and the beating of hoofs +upon the hard trail. The vehicle, whatever it was, had passed the +dugout, and the sounds of it were already dying away in the direction +of the distant camp. + +"There's a fog coming down," observed Mason, as they returned to the +stove. + +"That was a buckboard," remarked the parson. + +"And it was traveling fast and light," added Betty. + +And each remark indicated the point of view of the speaker. + +Mason thought less of the vehicle than he did of the fog. Any +uneasiness he felt was for his work rather than the trouble he felt to +be brewing. A heavy fog was always a deterrent, and, at this time of +year, fogs were not unfrequent in the hills. Chepstow was bent on the +identity of the arrival, while Betty sought the object of it. + +Mason did not return to his seat. He stood by the stove for a moment +thinking. Then he moved across to his pea-jacket hanging on the wall +and put it on, at the same time slipping a revolver into his pocket. +Then he pulled a cloth cap well down over his eyes. + +"I'll get a good look around the camp," he said quietly. + +"Going to investigate?" Chepstow inquired. + +"Yes. There have been too many arrivals lately--one way and another. +I'm sick of 'em." + +Betty looked up into his face with round smiling eyes. + +"You need a revolver--to make investigations?" she asked lightly. + +The lumberman looked her squarely in the eyes for a moment, and there +he read something of the thought which had prompted her question. He +smiled back at her as he replied. + +"It's a handy thing to have about you when dealing with the scum of the +earth. Lumbermen on this continent are not the beau ideal of +gentlefolk, but when you are dealing with the class of loafer such as I +have been forced to engage lately, well, the real lumber-jack becomes +an angel of gentleness by contrast. A gun doesn't take up much room in +your pocket, and it gives an added feeling of security. You see, if +there's any sort of trouble brewing the man in authority is not likely +to have a healthy time. By the way, parson, I'd suggest you give up +this service to-night. Of course it's up to you, I don't want to +interfere. You see, if the boys want that store, and you've got +it--why----" + +He broke off with a suggestive shake of the head. Betty watched her +uncle's face. + +She saw him suddenly bend down and fling the damper wider open, and in +response the stove roared fiercely. He sat with his keen eyes fixed on +the glowing aperture, watching the rapidly brightening light that shone +through. The suggestion of fiery rage suited his mood at the moment. + +But his anger was not of long duration. His was an impetuous +disposition generally controlled in the end by a kindly, Christian +spirit, and, a few moments later, when he spoke, there was the mildness +of resignation in his words. + +"Maybe you're right, Mason," he said calmly. "You understand these boys +up here better than I do. Besides, I don't want to cause you any +unnecessary trouble, and I see by your manner you're expecting +something serious." Then he added regretfully: "But I should have liked +to hold that service. And I would have done it, in spite of our Hebrew +friend's sordid excuse. However---- By the way, can I be of any service +to you?" He pointed at the lumberman's bulging pocket. "If it's +necessary to carry that, two are always better than one." + +Betty sighed contentedly. She was glad that her uncle had been advised +to give up the service. Her woman's quick wit had taken alarm for him, +and--well, she regarded her simple-minded uncle as her care, she felt +she was responsible to her aunt for him. It was the strong maternal +instinct in her which made her yearn to protect and care for those whom +she loved. Now she waited anxiously for the foreman's reply. To her +astonishment it came with an alacrity and ready acceptance which +further stirred her alarm. + +"Thanks," he said. "As you say two---- Here, slip this other gun into +your coat pocket." And he reached the fellow revolver to his own from +its holster upon the wall. "Now let's get on." + +He moved toward the door. Chepstow was in the act of following when +Betty's voice stopped him. + +"What time will you get back?" she inquired. "How shall I know that----" + +She broke off. Her brown eyes were fixed questioningly upon the +lumberman's face. + +"We'll be around in an hour," said Mason confidently "Meanwhile, Miss +Betty, after we're gone, just set those bars across the door. And don't +let anybody in till you hear either mine or your uncle's voice." + +The girl understood him, she always understood without asking a lot of +questions. She was outwardly quite calm, without the faintest trace of +the alarm she really felt. She had no fear for herself. At that moment +she was thinking of her uncle. + +After the men had gone she closed the heavy log door but did not bar it +as she had been advised; then, returning to the stove, she sat down and +took up some sewing, prepared to await their return with absolute faith +and confidence in the lumberman's assurance. + +She stitched on in the silence, and soon her thoughts drifted back to +the man who had so strangely become the lodestone of her life. The +trouble suggested by Mason must be his trouble. She wondered what could +possibly happen on top of the fever, which she and her uncle had been +fighting for the past weeks, that could further jeopardize his +contract. She could see only one thing, and her quickness of perception +in all matters relating to the world she knew drove her straight to the +reality. She knew it was a general strike Mason feared. She knew it by +the warning she had received, by the foreman's manner when he prepared +to leave the hut. + +She was troubled. In imagination she saw the great edifice Dave had so +ardently labored upon toppling about his ears. In her picture she saw +him great, calm, resolute, standing amidst the wreck, with eyes looking +out straight ahead full of that great fighting strength which was his, +his heart sore and bruised but his lips silent, his great courage and +purpose groping for the shattered foundations that the rebuilding might +not be delayed an instant. It was her delight and pride to think of him +thus, whilst, with every heart-beat, a nervous dread for him shook her +whole body. She tried to think wherein she could help this man who was +more to her than her own life. She bitterly hated her own womanhood as +she thought of those two men bearing arms at that instant in his +interests. Why could not she? But she knew that privilege was denied +her. She threw her sewing aside as though the effeminacy of it sickened +her, and rose from her seat and paced the room. "Oh, Dave, Dave, why +can't I help you?" It was the cry that rang through her troubled brain +with every moment that the little metal clock on the desk ticked away, +while she waited for the men-folk's return. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE CHURCH MILITANT + + +Outside the hut Mason led the way. The mist had deepened into a white +fog which seemed to deaden all sound, so quiet was everything, so +silent the grim woods all around. It had settled so heavily that it was +almost impossible to see anything beyond the edge of the trail. There +was just a hazy shadow, like a sudden depth of mist, to mark the +woodland borders; beyond this all was gray and desolate. + +The dugout was built at the trail-side, a trail which had originally +been made for travoying logs, but had now become the main trail linking +up the camp with the eastern world. The camp itself--No. 1, the main +camp--was further in the woods to the west, a distance of nearly a mile +and a half by trail, but not more than half a mile through the woods. +It was this short cut the two men took now. They talked as they went, +but in hushed tones. It was as though the gray of the fog, and the +knowledge of their mission weighed heavily, inspiring them with a +profound feeling of caution. + +"You've not had any real trouble before?" Chepstow asked. "I mean +trouble such as would serve you with a key to what is going on now?" + +"Oh, we've had occasional 'rackets,'" said Mason easily. "But nothing +serious--nothing to guide us in this. No, we've got to find this out. +You see there's no earthly reason for trouble that I know. The boys are +paid jolly well, a sight better than I would pay them if this was my +outfit. The hours are exacting, I admit. This huge contract has caused +that. It's affected us in most every way, but Dave is no niggard, and +the inducement has been made more than proportionate, so there's no +kick coming on that head. Where before axemen's work was merely a full +eight hours, it now takes 'em something like nine and ten, and work +like the devil to get through even in that time. But their wages are +simply out of sight. Do you know, there are men in this camp drawing +from four to five dollars a day clear of food and shelter? Why, the +income of some of them is positively princely." + +"What is it you think is on foot?" Chepstow demanded, as he buttoned +his coat close about his neck to keep out the saturating mist. Then, as +his companion didn't answer at once, he added half to himself, "It's no +wonder there's fever with these mists around." + +Bob Mason paid no heed to the last remark. The fever had lost interest +for him in the storm-clouds he now saw ahead. Hitherto he had not put +his thoughts on the matter into concrete form. He had not given actual +expression to his fears. There had been so little to guide him. +Besides, he had had no sound reason to fear anything, that is no +definite reason. It was his work to feel and understand the pulse of +the men under him, and it largely depended on the accuracy of his +reading whether or not the work under his charge ran smoothly. He had +felt for some time that something was wrong, and Betty's story had +confirmed his feeling. He was some moments before he answered, but when +he did it was with calm decision. + +"Organized strike," he said at last. + +Tom Chepstow was startled. The words "organized strike" had an +unpleasant sound. He suddenly realized the isolation of these hill +camps, the lawless nature of the lumber-jacks. He felt that a strike up +here in the mountains would be a very different thing from a strike in +the heart of civilization, and that was bad enough. The fact that the +tone of Mason's pronouncement had suggested no alarm made him curious +to hear his views upon the position. + +"The reason?" he demanded. + +The lumberman shrugged. + +"Haven't a notion." + +They tramped on in silence for some time, the sound of their footsteps +muffled in the fog. The gray was deepening, and, with oncoming night, +their surroundings were rapidly becoming more and more obscure. +Presently the path opened out into the wide clearing occupied by No. 1 +camp. Here shadowy lights were visible in the fog, but beyond that +nothing could be seen. Mason paused and glanced carefully about him. + +"This fog is useful," he said, with a short laugh. "As we don't want to +advertise our presence we'll take to the woods opposite, and work our +way round to the far side of the camp." + +"Why the far side?" + +"The store is that way. And--yes, I think the store is our best plan. +Jules Lieberstein is a time-serving ruffian, and will doubtless lend +himself to any wildcat scheme of his customers. Besides, this singsong +of the boys sounds suggestive to me." + +"I see." Chepstow was quick to grasp the other's reasoning. The +singsong had suggested nothing to him before. + +Now they turned from the open and hastened across to the wood-belt. As +they entered its gloomy aisles, the fog merged into a pitchy blackness +that demanded all the lumberman's woodcraft to negotiate. The parson +hung close to his heels, and frequently had to assure himself of his +immediate presence by reaching out and touching him. A quarter of an +hour's tramp brought them to a halt. + +"We must get out of this now," whispered Mason. "We are about opposite +the store. I've no doubt that buckboard will be somewhere around. I've +a great fancy to see it." + +They moved on, this time with greater caution than before. Leaving the +forest they found the fog had become denser. The glow of the camp +lights was no longer visible, just a blank gray wall obscured +everything. However, this was no deterrent to Mason. He moved along +with extreme caution, stepping as lightly and quietly as possible. He +wished to avoid observation, and though the fog helped him in this it +equally afforded the possibility of his inadvertently running into some +one. Once this nearly happened. His straining ears caught the faint +sound of footsteps approaching, and he checked his companion only just +in the nick of time to let two heavy-footed lumber-jacks cross their +course directly in front of them. They were talking quite unguardedly +as they went, and seemed absorbed in the subject of their conversation. + +"Y're a fool, a measly-headed fool, Tyke," one of them was saying, with +a heat that held the two men listening. "Y'ain't got nuthin' to lose. +We ain't got no kick comin' from us; I'll allow that, sure. But if by +kickin' we ken drain a few more dollars out of him I say kick, an' kick +good an' hard. Them as is fixin' this racket knows, they'll do the +fancy work. We'll jest set around an'--an' take the boodle as it comes." + +The man laughed harshly. The shrewdness of his argument pleased him +mightily. + +"But what's it for, though?" asked the other, the man addressed as +"Tyke." "Is it a raise in wages?" + +"Say, ain't you smart?" retorted the first speaker. "Sure, it's wages. +A raise. What else does folks strike for?" + +"But----" + +"Cut it. You ain't no sort o' savee. You ain't got nuthin' but to set +around----" + +The voice died away in the distance, and Mason turned to his companion. + +"Not much doubt about that. The man objecting is 'Tyke' Bacon, one of +our oldest hands. A thoroughly reliable axeman of the real sort. The +other fellow's voice I didn't recognize. I'd say he's likely one of the +scallywags I've picked up lately. This trouble seems to have been +brewing ever since I was forced to pick up chance loafers who floated +into camp." + +Chepstow had no comment to make, yet the matter was fraught with the +keenest interest for him. Mason's coolness did not deceive him, and, +even with his limited experience of the men of these camps, the thing +was more than significant. Caution became more than ever necessary now +as they neared their destination, and in a few moments a ruddy glow of +light on the screen of fog told them they had reached the sutler's +store. They came to a halt in rear of the building, and it was +difficult to estimate their exact position. However, the sound of a +powerful, clarion-like voice reached them through the thickness of the +log walls, and the lumberman at once proceeded to grope his way along +in the hope of finding a window or some opening through which it would +be possible to distinguish the words of the speaker. At last his desire +was fulfilled. A small break in the heavy wall of lateral logs proved +to be a cotton-covered pivot-window. It was closed, but the light shone +through it, and the speaker's words were plainly audible. Chepstow +closed up behind him, and both men craned forward listening. + +Some one was addressing what was apparently a meeting of lumber-jacks. +The words and voice were not without refinement, and, obviously, were +not belonging to a lumberman. Moreover, it struck the listeners that +this man, whoever he be, was not addressing a meeting for the first +time. In fact Mason had no difficulty in placing him in the calling to +which he actually belonged. He was discoursing with all the delectable +speciousness of a regular strike organizer. He was one of those +products of trade unionism who are always ready to create +dissatisfaction where labour's contentment is most nourishing to +capital--that is, at a price. He is not necessarily a part of trade +unionism, but exists because trade unionism has created a market for +his wares, and made him possible. + +Just now he was lending all his powers of eloquence and argument to the +threadbare quackery of his kind; the iniquity of the possession of +wealth acquired by the sweat of a thousand moderately honest brows. It +was the old, old dish garnished and hashed up afresh, whose poisonous +odors he was wafting into the nostrils of his ignorant audience. + +He was dealing with men as ignorant and hard as the timber it was their +life to cut, and he painted the picture in all the crude, lurid colors +most effective to their dull senses. The blessings of liberal +employment, of ample wages, the kindly efforts made to add to their +happiness and improve their lives were ignored, even rigorously shut +out of his argument, or so twisted as to appear definite sins against +the legions of labor. For such is the method of those who live upon the +hard-earned wages of the unthinking worker. + +For some minutes the two men listened to the burden of the man's +unctuous periods, but at last an exclamation of disgust broke from the +lumberman. + +"Makes you sick!" he whispered in his companion's ear. "And they'll +believe it all. Here!" He drew a penknife from his pocket and passed +the blade gently through the cotton of the window. The aperture was +small, he dared not make it bigger for fear of detection, but, by +pressing one eye close up against it, it was sufficient for him to +obtain a full view of the room. + +The place was packed with lumber-jacks, all with their keenest +attention upon the speaker, who was addressing them from the +reading-desk Tom Chepstow had set up for the purposes of his Sunday +evening service. The desecration drew a smothered curse from the +lumberman. He was not a religious man, but that an agitator such as +this should stand at the parson's desk was too much for him. He +scrutinized the fellow closely, nor did he recognize him. He was a +stranger to the camp, and his round fat face set his blood surging. +Besides this man there were three others sitting behind him on the +table the parson had set there for the purposes of administering Holy +Communion, and the sight maddened him still more. Two of these he +recognized as laborers he had recently taken on his "time sheet," but +the other was a stranger to him. + +At last he drew back and made way for his companion. + +"Get a good look, parson," he said. Then he added with an angry laugh, +"I've thought most of what you'll feel like saying. I'd--I'd like to +riddle the hide of that son-of-a-dog's-wife. We did well to get around. +We're in for a heap bad time, I guess." + +Chepstow took his place. Mason heard him mutter something under his +breath, and knew at once that the use of his reading-desk and Communion +table had struck home. + +But the sacrilege was promptly swept from the parson's mind. The +speaker was forgotten, the matter of the coming strike, even, was +almost forgotten. He had recognized the third man on the table, the man +who was a stranger to Mason, and he swung round on the lumberman. + +"What's Jim Truscott doing there?" he demanded in a sharp whisper. + +"Who? Jim Truscott?" + +For a second a puzzled expression set Mason frowning. Then his face +cleared. "Say, isn't that the fellow who ran that mill--he's a friend +of--Dave's?" + +But the other had turned back to the window. And, at that moment, +Mason's attention was also caught by the sudden turn the agitator's +talk had taken. + +"Now, my friends," he was saying, "this is the point I would impress on +you. Hitherto we have cut off all communication of a damaging nature to +ourselves with the tyrant at Malkern, but the time has come when even +more stringent measures must be taken. We wish to conduct our +negotiations with the mill-owner himself, direct. We must put before +him our proposals. We want no go-betweens. As things stand we cannot +reach him, and the reason is the authority of his representative up +here. Such obstacles as he can put in our way will be damaging to our +cause, and we will not tolerate them. He must be promptly set aside, +and, by an absolute stoppage of work, we can force the man from Malkern +to come here so that we can talk to him, and insist upon our demands. +We must talk to him as from worker to fellow worker. He must be forced +to listen to reason. Experience has long since taught me that such is +the only way to deal with affairs of this sort. Now, what we propose," +and the man turned with a bow to the three men behind him, thus +including them with himself, "is that without violence we take +possession of these camps and strike all work, and, securing the person +of Mr. Mason, and any others likely to interfere with us, we hold them +safe until all our plans are fully put through. During the period +necessary for the cessation of work, each man will draw an allowance +equal to two-thirds of his wages, and he will receive a guarantee of +employment when the strike is ended. The sutler, Mr. Lieberstein here, +will be the treasurer of the strike funds, and pay each man his daily +wage. There is but one thing more I have to say. We intend to take the +necessary precautions against interference to-night. The cessation of +work will date from this hour. And in the meantime we will put to the +vote----" + +Chepstow, his keen eyes blazing, turned and faced the lumberman. + +"The scoundrels!" he said, with more force than discretion. "Did you +hear? It means----" + +The lumberman chuckled, but held up a warning hand. + +"They're going to take me prisoner," he said. Then he added grimly, +"There's going to be a warm time to-night." + +But the churchman was not listening. Again his thought had reverted to +the presence of Jim Truscott at that meeting. + +"What on earth is young Truscott doing in there?" he asked. "He went +away east the night I set out for these hills. What's he got to do with +that--that rascally agitator? Why--he must be one of the--leaders of +this thing. It's--it's most puzzling!" + +Chepstow's puzzlement did not communicate itself to Mason. The camp +"boss" was less interested in the identity of these people than in the +strike itself. It was his work to see that so much lumber was sent down +the river every day. That was his responsibility. Dave looked to him. +And he was face to face with a situation which threatened the complete +annihilation of all his employer's schemes. A strike effectually +carried out might be prolonged indefinitely, and then-- + +"Look here, parson," he said coolly, "I want you to stay right here for +a minute or so. They aren't likely to be finished for a while inside +there. I want to 'prospect.' I want to find that buckboard. That damned +agitator--'scuse the language--must have come up in it, so I guess it's +near handy. The fog's good and thick, so there's not a heap of chance +of anybody locating us, still----" he paused and glanced into the +churchman's alert eyes. "Have a look to your gun," he went on with a +quiet smile, "and--well, you are a parson, but if anybody comes along +and attempts to molest you I'd use it if I were in your place." + +Chepstow made no reply, but there was something in his look that +satisfied the other. + +Mason hurried away and the parson, left alone, leant against the wall, +prepared to wait for his return. In spite of the plot he had listened +to, the presence of Jim Truscott in that room occupied most of his +thoughts. It was most perplexing. He tried every channel of supposition +and argument, but none gave him any satisfactory explanation. One thing +alone impressed its importance on his mind. That was the necessity of +conveying a warning to Dave. But he remembered they--these +conspirators--had cut communications. Mason and probably he were to be +made prisoners. + +His ire roused. He blazed into a sudden fury. These rascals were to +make them prisoners. Almost unconsciously he drew his gun from his +pocket and turned to the window. As he did so the sound of approaching +footsteps set him alert and defensive. He swung his back to the wall +again, and, gun in hand, stood ready. The next moment he hurriedly +returned the weapon to his pocket, but not before Mason had seen the +attitude and the fighting expression of his face, and it set him +smiling. + +"I've found the buckboard," he said in a whisper. Then he paused and +looked straight into the churchman's eyes. "We're up against it," he +went on. "Maybe you as well as myself. You can't tell where these +fellows'll draw the line. And there's Miss Betty to think of, too. Are +you ready to buck? Are you game? You're a parson, I know, and these +things----" + +"Get to it, boy," Chepstow interrupted him sharply. "I am of necessity +a man of peace, but there are things that become a man's duty. And it +seems to me to hit hard will better serve God and man just now than to +preach peace. What's your plan?" + +Mason smiled. He knew he had read the parson aright. He knew he had in +him a staunch and loyal support. He liked, too, the phrase by which he +excused his weakness for combat. + +"Well, I mean to do this sponge-faced crawler down, or break my neck in +the attempt. I don't intend to be made a prisoner by any damned +strikers. This thing means ruin to Dave, and it's up to me to help him +out. I'm going to get word through to him. I understand now how our +letters have been intercepted, and no doubt his have been stopped too. +I'm going to have a flutter in this game. It's a big one, and makes me +feel good. What say? Are you game?" + +"For anything!" exclaimed the parson with eyes sparkling. + +"Well, there's not a heap of time to waste in talk. I'll just get you +to slip back to the dugout. Gather some food and truck into a sack, and +a couple of guns or so, and some ammunition. Then get Miss Betty and +slip out. Hike on down the trail a hundred yards or so and wait for me. +Can you make it?" + +Chepstow nodded. + +"And you?" he asked. + +"I'm going to get possession of that buckboard, and--come right along. +The scheme's rotten, I know. But it's the best I can think of at the +moment. It's our only chance of warning Dave. There's not a second to +spare now, so cut along. You've got to prepare for a two days' journey." + +"Anything else?" + +"Nothing. Miss Betty's good grit--in case----?" + +Chepstow nodded. + +"Game all through. How long can you give me?" + +"Maybe a half hour." + +"Good. I can make it in that." + +"Right. S'long." + +"S'long." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +AN ADVENTURE IN THE FOG + + +Tom Chepstow set out for the dugout. Churchman as he was his blood was +stirred to fighting heat, his lean, hard muscles were tingling with a +nervous desire for action. Nor did he attempt to check his feelings, or +compose them into a condition compatible with his holy calling. +Possibly, when the time had passed for action, and the mantle of peace +and good-will toward all men had once more fallen upon him, he would +bitterly regret his outbreak, but, for the moment, he was a man, human, +passionate, unreasoning, thrilling with the joy of life, and the +delight of a moral truancy from all his accepted principles. No +schoolboy could have broken the bonds of discipline with a greater joy, +and his own subconscious knowledge of wrong-doing was no mar to his +pleasure. + +The fog was thick, but it did not cause him great inconvenience. He +took to the woods for his course, and, keeping close to the edge which +encircled the camp clearing, he had little difficulty in striking the +path to the dugout. This achieved he had but to follow it carefully. +The one possibility that caused him any anxiety was lest he should +overshoot the hut in the fog. + +But he need have had no fear of this. Dense as the fog was, the lights +of the dugout were plainly visible when he came to it. Betty, with +careful forethought, had set the oil lamps in the two windows. She +quite understood the difficulties of that forest land, and she had no +desire for the men-folk to spend the night roaming the wilderness. + +The parson found her calmly alert. She did not fly at him with a rush +of questions. She was far more composed than he, yet there was a +sparkling brilliancy in her brown eyes which told of feelings strongly +controlled; her eyelids were well parted, and there was a shade of +quickening in the dilation of her nostrils as she breathed. She looked +up into his face as he turned after closing the door, and his tongue +answered the mute challenge. + +"There's to be a great game to-night," he said, rubbing the palms of +his hands together. The tone, the action, both served to point the +state of his mind. + +Knowing him as she did Betty needed no words to tell her that the +"game" was to be no sort of play. + +"It's a 'strike,'" he went on. "A strike, and a bad one. They intend to +make a prisoner of Mason, and, maybe, of us. We've got to outwit them. +Now, help me get some things together, and I'll tell you while we get +ready. We've got to quit to-night." + +He picked up a gunny sack while he was speaking and gave it to Betty to +hold open. Then he immediately began to deplete the lumberman's larder +of any eatables that could be easily carried. + +Ever since the men had left her this strike had been in Betty's mind, +so his announcement in no way startled her. + +"What of Dave?" she asked composedly. "Has he any--idea of it?" + +"That's just it. We've got to let him know. He's quite in the dark. +Communications cut. Mason must get away at once to let him know. He +intends to 'jump' their buckboard and team--I mean these strikers' +buckboard." He laughed. He felt ready to laugh at most things. It was +not that he did not care. His desire was inspired by the thought that +he was to play a part in the "game." + +"The one that came in to-night?" Betty asked, taking up a fresh sack to +receive some pots and blankets. + +"Yes." + +"And we are to bolt with him?" she went on in a peculiar manner. + +Her uncle paused in the act of putting firearms and ammunition into the +sack. Her tone checked his enthusiasm. Then he laughed. + +"We're not 'bolting' Betty, we're escaping so that Dave may get the +news. His fortune depends on our success. Remember our communications +are cut." + +But his arguments fell upon deaf ears. Betty smiled and shook her brown +head. + +"We're bolting, uncle. Listen. There's no need for us to go. In fact, +we can't go. Think for a moment. Things depend on the speed with which +Dave learns of the trouble. We should make two more in the buckboard of +which the horses are already tired. Mason, by himself, will travel +light. Besides, a girl is a deterrent when it comes to--fighting. No, +wait." She held up a warning finger as he was about to interrupt. "Then +there are the sick here. We cannot leave them. They--are our duty. +Besides, Dave's interests would be ill served if we left the fever to +continue its ravages unchecked." + +In her last remark Betty displayed her woman's practical instinct. +Perhaps she was not fully aware of her real motive. Perhaps she +conscientiously believed that it was their duty that claimed her. +Nevertheless her thought was for the man she loved, and it guided her +every word and action; it inspired her. The threat of imprisonment up +here did not frighten her, did not even enter into her considerations +at all. Dave--her every nerve vibrated with desire to help him, to save +him. + +Chepstow suddenly reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. His +enthusiasm had passed, and, for the moment, the churchman in him was +uppermost again. + +"You're right, Betty," he said with decision. "We stay here." + +The girl's eyes thanked him, but her words were full of practical +thought. + +"Will Mason come here? Because, if so, we'll get these things outside +ready." + +"No. We've got to carry them down the trail and meet him there. There +may be a rush. There may be a scuffle. We don't know. I half think +you'd better stay here while I go and meet him." + +Betty shook her head. + +"I'm going to help," she exclaimed, with a flash of battle in her eyes. + +"Then come on." Her uncle shouldered the heavier of the two sacks, and +was about to tuck the other under his arm, but Betty took it from him, +and lifted it to her shoulder in a twinkling. + +"Halves," she cried, as she moved toward the door. + +The man laughed light-heartedly and blew out the lights. Then, as he +reached the girl's side, a distant report caused him to stop short. + +"What's that?" he demanded. + +"A pistol shot," cried Betty. "Come along!" + +They ran out of the hut and down the trail, and, in a moment, were +swallowed up in the fog. + + * * * * * + +Bob Mason intended to give Chepstow a fair start. He knew, if he were +to be successful, his task would occupy far less time than the other's. +And a vital point in his scheme lay in meeting his two friends at the +appointed spot. + +He was fully alive to the rank audacity of his plan. It was desperate, +and the chances were heavily against him. But he was not a man to +shrink from an undertaking on such a score. He had to warn Dave, and +this was the only means that suggested itself. If he were not a genius +of invention, he was at least full of courage and determination. + +On his previous reconnoitre he had located the buckboard at the +tying-posts in front of the store. Quite why it had been left there he +could not understand, unless the strike-leader intended leaving camp +that night. However, the point of interest lay in the fact of the +vehicle and horses being there ready for his use if he could only +safely possess himself of them, so speculation as to the reason of its +being there was only of secondary interest. + +When he made his first move Tom Chepstow had been gone some ten +minutes. He groped his way carefully along the wall until the front +angle of the building was reached, and here he paused to ascertain the +position of things. The meeting was still in progress inside, and, as +yet, there seemed to be no sign of its breaking up. The steady hum of +voices that reached him told him this. + +About twenty yards directly in front of him was the buckboard; while to +the right, perhaps half that distance away, was the open door of the +store, and adjacent to it a large glass window. Both were lit up, and +the glow from the oil lamps shone dully on the fog bank. He was half +inclined to reconnoitre these latter to ascertain if any one were +about, but finally decided to go straight for his goal and chance +everything. With this intention he moved straight out from the building +and vanished in the fog. + +He walked quickly. Fortune favored him until he was within a few yards +of the tying-post, when suddenly the clanging of an iron-handled bucket +being set roughly upon the ground brought him to a dead standstill. +Some one was tending the horses--probably watering them. Evidently they +were being got ready for a journey. Almost unconsciously his hand went +to the pocket in which he carried his revolver. + +At that moment a roar of applause came from the store, and he knew the +meeting was drawing to a close. Then came a prolonged cheering, +followed by the raucous singing of "He's a jolly good fellow." It _was_ +the end. + +He could delay no longer. Taking his bearings as well as the fog would +permit, he struck out for the tail end of the buckboard. He intended +reaching the "near-side" of the horses, where he felt that the reins +would be looped up upon the harness, and as the best means of avoiding +the man with the bucket. + +In this he had little difficulty, and when he reached the vehicle he +bent low, and, passing clear of the wheels, drew up toward the horses' +heads. By this time the man with the bucket was moving away, and he +breathed more freely. + +But his relief was short-lived. The men were already pouring out of the +store, and the fog-laden air was filled with the muffled tones of many +voices. To add to his discomfiture he further became aware of footsteps +approaching. He could delay no longer. He dared not wait to let them +pass. Then, they might be the owners of the buckboard. His movements +became charged with almost electrical activity. + +He reached out and assured himself that the bits were in the horses' +mouths. Then he groped for the reins; as he expected, they were looped +in the harness. Possessing himself of them, he reached for the +collar-chain securing the horses to the posts. He pressed the swivel +open, and, releasing it, lowered the chain noiselessly. And a moment +later two men loomed up out of the fog on the "off-side." They were +talking, and he listened. + +"It's bad med'cine you leaving to-night," he heard the voice of the +strike-leader say in a grumbling tone. + +"I can't help that," came the response. It was a voice he did not +recognize. + +"Well, we've got to secure this man Mason to-night. You can't trust +these fellows a heap. Give 'em time, and some one will blow the game. +Then he'll be off like a rabbit." + +"Well, it's up to you to get him," the strange voice retorted sharply. +"I'm paying you heavily. You've undertaken the job. Besides, there's +that cursed parson and his niece up here. I daren't take a chance of +their seeing me. I oughtn't to have come up here at all. If Lieberstein +hadn't been such a grasping pig of a Jew there would have been no need +for my coming. You've just got to put everything through on your own, +Walford. I'm off." + +Mason waited for no more. The buckboard belonged to the stranger, and +he was about to use it. He laughed inwardly, and his spirits rose. +Everything was ready. He dropped back to the full extent of the reins +as stealthily and as swiftly as possible. This cleared him of the +buckboard and hid him from the view of the men. Then with a rein in +each hand he slapped them as sharply as he could on the quarters of the +cold and restless horses. They jumped at the neck-yoke, and with a +"yank" he swung them clear of the tying-posts. He shouted at them and +slapped the reins again, and the only too willing beasts plunged into a +gallop. + +He heard an exclamation from one of the men as the buckboard shot past +them, and the other made a futile grab for the off-side rein. For +himself he seized the rail of the carryall with one hand and gave a +wild leap. He dropped into the vehicle safely but with some force, and +his legs were left hanging over the back. + +But he had not cleared the danger yet. He was in the act of drawing in +his legs when they were seized in an arm embrace, and the whole weight +of a man hung upon him in an effort to drag him off the vehicle. There +was no time to consider. He felt himself sliding over the rail, which +only checked his progress for an instant. But that instant gave him a +winning chance. He drew his revolver, and leveling it, aimed +point-blank at where he thought the man's shoulder must be. There was a +loud report, and the grip on his legs relaxed. The man dropped to the +ground, and he was left to scramble to his feet and climb over into the +driving-seat. + +A blind, wild drive was that race from the store. He drove like a fury +in the fog, trusting to the instinct of the horses and the luck of the +reckless to guide him into the comparative safety of the eastward trail. + +As the horses flew over the ground the cries of the strikers filled the +air. They seemed to come from every direction, even ahead. The noise, +the rattle of the speeding wheels, fired his excitement. The fog--the +dense gray pall that hung over the whole camp--was his salvation, and +he shouted back defiance. + +It was a useless and dangerous thing to do, and he realized his folly +at once. A great cry instantly went up from the strikers. He was +recognized, and his name was shouted in execration. He only laughed. +There was joy in the feel of the reins, in the pulling of the +mettlesome horses. They were running strong and well within themselves. + +It was only a matter of seconds from the time of his start to the +moment when he felt the vehicle bump heavily over a series of ruts. He +promptly threw his weight on the near-side rein, and the horses swung +round. It was the trail he was looking for. And as the horses settled +down to it he breathed more freely. It was only after this point had +been gained and passed that he realized the extent of his previous +risk. He knew that the entrance to the trail on its far side was lined +by log shanties, and he had been driving straight for them. + +In the midst of his freshly-acquired ease of mind came a sudden and +unpleasant recollection. He remembered the path through the woods to +the dugout; it was shorter than the trail he was on by nearly a mile. +While he had over a mile and a half to go, those in pursuit, if they +took to the path, had barely half. + +He listened. But he knew beforehand that his fears were only too well +founded. Yes, he could hear them. The voices of the pursuers sounded +away to the left. They were abreast of him. They had taken to the +woods. He snatched the whip from its socket and laid it heavily across +the horses' backs, and the animals stretched out into a race. The +buckboard jumped, it rattled and shrieked. The pace was terrific. But +he was ready to take every chance now, so long as he could gain +sufficient time to take up those he knew to be waiting for him ahead. + +In another few minutes he would know the worst--or the best. Again and +again he urged his horses. But already they were straining at the top +of their speed. They galloped as though the spirit of the race had +entered their willing souls. They could do no more than they were +doing; it was only cruelty to flog them. If their present speed was +insufficient then he could not hope to outstrip the strikers. If he +only could hear their voices dropping behind. + +The minutes slipped by. The fog worried him. He was watching for the +dugout, and he feared lest he should pass it unseen. Nor could he +estimate the distance he had come. Hark! the shouts of the pursuers +were drawing nearer, and--they were still abreast of him! He must be +close on the dugout. He peered into the fog, and suddenly a dark shadow +at the trail-side loomed up. There was no mistaking it. It was the hut; +and it was in darkness. His friends must be on ahead. How far! that was +the question. On that depended everything. + +What was that? The hammering of heavy feet on the hard trail sounded +directly behind him. He had gained nothing. Then he thought of that +halt that yet remained in front of him, and something like panic seized +him. He slashed viciously at his horses. + +He felt like a man obsessed with the thought of trailing bloodhounds. +He must keep on, on. There must be no pause, no rest, or the ravening +pack would fall on him and rend him. Yet he knew that halt must come. +He was gaining rapidly enough now. Without that halt they could never +come up with him. But--his ears were straining for Chepstow's summons. +Every second it was withheld was something gained. He possessed a +frantic hope that some guiding spirit might have induced the churchman +to take up a position very much further on than he had suggested. + +"Hallo!" + +The call had come. Chepstow was at the edge of the trail. Mason's hopes +dropped to zero. He abandoned himself to the inevitable, flung his +weight on the reins, and brought his horses to a stand with a jolt. + +"Where's Miss Betty?" he demanded. But his ears caught the sound of the +men behind him, and he hurried on without waiting for a reply. "Quick, +parson! The bags! fling 'em in, and jump for it! They're close behind!" + +"Betty's gone back," cried Chepstow, flinging the sacks into the +carryall. "I'm going back too. You go on alone. We've got the sick to +see to. Tell Dave we're all right. So long! Drive on! Good luck! Eh?" + +A horrified cry from Mason had caused the final ejaculation. + +He was pointing at the off-side horse standing out at right angles to +the pole. + +"For God's sake, fix that trace," he cried. "Quick, man! It's unhooked! +Gee! What infern----" + +Chepstow sprang to secure the loosened trace. He, too, could hear the +pursuers close behind. He fumbled the iron links in his anxiety, and it +took some moments to adjust. + +"Right," he cried at last, after what seemed an interminable time. +Mason whipped up his horses, and they sprang to their traces. But as +they did so there was a sudden rush from behind, and a figure leapt on +to the carryall. The buckboard rocked and the driver, in the act of +shouting at his horses, felt himself seized by the throat from behind. + +Fortunately the churchman saw it all. His blood rushed to his brain. As +the buckboard was sweeping past him he caught the iron rail and leapt. +In an instant he was on his feet and had closed with Mason's assailant. +He, too, went for the throat, with all the ferocity of a bulldog. The +mantle of the church was cast to the winds. He was panting with the +lust for fight, and he crushed his fingers deep into the man's +windpipe. They dropped together on the sacks. + +Mason, released, dared not turn. He plied his whip furiously. He had +the legs of his pursuers and he meant to add to his distance. He heard +the struggle going on behind him. He heard the gasp of a choking man. +And, listening, he reveled in it as men of his stamp will revel in such +things. + +"Choke him, parson! Choke the swine!" he hurled viciously over his +shoulder. + +He got no answer. The struggle went on in silence, and presently Mason +began to fear for the result. He slackened his horses down and glanced +back. Tom Chepstow's working features looked up into his. + +"I've got him," he said: then of a sudden he looked anxiously down at +the man he was kneeling on. "He's--he's unconscious. I hope---- You'd +better pull up." + +"I wish you'd choke the life out of him," cried Mason furiously. + +"I did my best, I'm afraid," the parson replied ruefully. "You'd better +pull up." + +But the lumberman kept on. + +"Half a minute. Get these matches, and have a look at him. I'll slow +down." + +The churchman seized the matches, and, in his anxiety at what he had +done, struck several before he got one burning long enough to see the +unconscious man's face. Finally he succeeded, and an ejaculation of +surprise broke from him. + +"Heavens! It's Jim Truscott!" he cried. + +He pressed his hand over the man's heart. + +"Thank God! he's alive," he added. + +Mason drew up sharply. A sudden change had come over his whole manner. +He sprang to the ground. + +"Here, help me secure him," he said almost fiercely. "I'll take him +down to Dave." + +They lashed their prisoner by his hands and feet. Then Mason seized the +churchman excitedly by the arm. + +"Get back, parson!" he cried. "Get back to the dugout quick as hell'll +let you! There's Miss Betty!" + +"God! I'd forgotten! And there's those--strikers!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +TERROR IN THE MOUNTAINS + + +Fear drove Chepstow headlong for the dugout. Mason's words, his tone +and manner, had served to excite him to a pitch closely bordering upon +absolute terror. What of Betty? Over and over again he asked himself +what might not happen to her, left alone at the mercy of these savages? +What if, baulked of their prey, they turned to loot and wreck his hut? +It was more than possible. To his fear-stricken imagination it was +inevitable. His gorge rose and he sickened at the thought, and he raced +through the fog to the girl's help. + +The self-torture he suffered in those weary minutes was exquisite. He +railed at his own criminal folly in letting her leave his side. He +reviled Mason and his wild schemes. Dave and his interests were +banished from his mind. The well-being of Malkern, of the mills, of +anybody in the world but the helpless girl, mattered not at all to him. +It was Betty--of Betty alone he thought. + +An innocent girl in the hands of such ruthless brutes as these +strikers--what could she do? It was a maddening thought. He prayed to +Heaven as he went, that he might be in time, and his prayers rang with +a fervor such as they never possessed in his vocation as a churchman. +And this mood alternated with another, which was its direct antithesis. +The vicious thoughts of a man roused to battle ran through his brain in +a fiery torrent. His whole outlook upon life underwent a change. All +the kindly impulses of his heart, all the teachings of his church, all +his best Christian beliefs, fell from him, and left him the naked, +passionate man. Churchman, good Christian he undoubtedly was, but, +before all things, he was a man; and just now a man in fighting mood. + +It probably took him less than twenty minutes to make the return +journey, yet it seemed to him hours--he certainly endured hours of +mental anguish. But at last it ended with almost ludicrous abruptness. +In the obscurity of the fog he was brought to a halt by impact with the +walls of the dugout. + +He recovered himself and stood for a moment listening. There was no +sound of any one within, nor was there any sign of the strikers. He +moved round to the door; a beam of light shone beneath it. He breathed +more freely. Then, to his dismay, at his first touch, the door swung +open. His fears leapt again, he dreaded what that open door might +disclose. Then, in the midst of his fears, a cry of relief and joy +broke from him. + +"Thank God, you're safe!" he exclaimed, as he rushed into the room. + +Betty looked up from the work in her lap. She was seated beside the +box-stove sewing. Her calmness was in flat contrast to her uncle's +excited state. She smiled gently, and her soft eyes had in them a +questioning humor that had a steadying effect upon the man. + +"Safe? Why, dear, of course I'm safe," she said. "But--I was a little +anxious about you. You were so long getting back. Did Bob Mason get +safely away?" + +Chepstow laughed. + +"Yes, oh yes. _He_ got away safely." + +"He?" + +The work lay in Betty's lap, and her fingers had become idle. + +"Yes. But we captured one of the strikers." + +The parson suddenly turned to the door and barred it securely. Then, as +he went on, he crossed to the windows, and began to barricade them. + +"Yes, we had a busy time. They were hard on his heels when he pulled up +for me. We nailed the foremost. He jumped on the buckboard and almost +strangled Mason. I jumped on it too, and--and almost strangled him." + +He laughed harshly. His blood was still up. Betty bent over her work +and her expressive face was hidden. + +"Who was he? I mean your prisoner. Did you recognize him, or was he a +new hand?" + +Chepstow's laugh abruptly died out. He had suddenly remembered who his +prisoner was; and he tried to ignore the question. + +"Oh, yes, we recognized him. But," he went on hurriedly, "we must get +some supper. I think we are in for a busy time." + +But Betty was not so easily put off. Besides, her curiosity was roused +by her uncle's evident desire to avoid the subject. + +"Who was he?" she demanded again. + +There was no escape, and the man knew it. Betty could be very +persistent. + +"Eh? Oh, I'm afraid it was Jim--Jim Truscott," he said reluctantly. + +Betty rose from her chair without a word. She stirred the fire in the +cook-stove, and began to prepare a supper of bacon and potatoes and +tea, while her uncle went on with his task of securing the windows. It +was the latter who finally broke the silence. + +"Has any one--has anybody been here?" he asked awkwardly. + +Betty did not look up from her work. + +"Two men paid me a visit," she said easily. "One asked for you. He +seemed angry. I--I told him you had gone over to the sick camp--that +you were coming back to supper. He laughed--fiercely. He said if you +didn't come back I'd find myself up against it. Then he hurried +off--and I was glad." + +"And the other?" + +Chepstow's work was finished. He had crossed over and was standing +beside the cook-stove. His question came with an undercurrent of +fierceness that Betty was unused to, but she smiled up into his face. + +"The other? I think he had been drinking. He was one of those two I met +in the woods. He asked me why I hadn't taken his warning. I told him I +was considering it. He leered at me and said it was too late, and +assured me I must take the consequences. Then he--tried to kiss me. It +was rather funny." + +"Funny? Great Heavens! And you----" + +Betty's smile broadened as she pointed to a heavy revolver lying in the +chair she had just vacated. + +"I didn't have any trouble. I told him there were five barrels in that, +all loaded, and each barrel said he'd better get out." + +"Did--did he go?" + +Chepstow could scarcely control his fury. But Betty answered him in a +quiet determined manner. + +"Not until I had emptied one of them," she said. Then with a rueful +smile she added, "But it went very wide of its mark." + +Her uncle tried to laugh, but the result was little better than a +furious snort. + +"Why did you leave the door open?" he inquired a moment later. + +"Well, you were out. You might have returned in--in a hurry and---- But +sit down, uncle dear, food's ready." + +The man sat down and Betty stood by to supply him with all he needed. +Then he noticed she had only prepared food for one. + +"Why, child, what about you?" he demanded kindly. + +"I've had some biscuits and tea, before you came in. I'm not hungry. +Now don't bother about it, dear. Yes, I am quite well." She shook her +head and smiled at him as he attempted to interrupt her, but the smile +was a mere cloak to her real feelings. She had eaten before he came in, +as she said. But if she hadn't she could have eaten nothing now. Her +mind was swept with a hot tide of anxious thought. She had a thousand +and one questions unanswered, and she knew it would be useless putting +any one of them to her kindly, impetuous uncle. He was to her the +gentlest of guardians, but quite impossible as a confidant for her +woman's fears, her woman's passionate desire to help the man she loved. +He was staunch and brave, and in what might lay before them she could +have no better companion, no better champion, but where the subtleties +of her woman's feelings were concerned there could be no confidence in +him. + +She watched him eat in silence, and, presently, when he looked up at +her, her soft brown eyes were lit by an almost maternal regard for him. +He had no understanding of that look, and Betty knew it, otherwise it +would not have been there. + +"I can't understand it all," he said. "Jim is a worse--a worse rascal +than I thought. I believe he's not only in this strike, but one of the +organizers. Why? That's what I can't make out. Is it mischief--wanton +mischief? Is it jealousy of Dave's success? It's a puzzle I can't solve +anyhow. After all his protestations to me the thing's inconceivable. +It's enough to destroy all one's belief in human nature." + +"Or strengthen it." + +"Eh?" + +"It is only natural for people to err," Betty said seriously. "And +having erred it is human nature, whatever our motives, however good our +intentions, to find that the mire into which we have fallen sucks hard. +It is more often than not the floundering to save ourselves that drives +us deeper into it. Poor Jim. He needs our pity and help, just as we so +often need help." + +Her uncle stared into the grave young face. His astonishment kept him +silent for a moment. He pushed impatiently away from the table. But it +was not until Betty had moved back to her chair at the stove that he +found words to express himself. He was angry, quite angry with her. It +was not that he was really unchristian, but when he thought of all that +this strike meant, he felt that sympathy for the man who was possibly +the cause of it was entirely out of place. + +"Truscott needs none of your pity, Betty," he said sharply. "If pity be +needed it is surely for those whom one man's mischief will harm. Do you +know what this strike means, child? Before it reaches the outside of +these camps it will turn a tide of vice loose upon the men themselves. +They will drink, gamble. They will quarrel and fight. And when such men +fight it more often than not results in some terrible tragedy. Then, +like some malignant cuttlefish, this strike will grope its crushing +feelers out from here, its lair, seeking prey on which to fix its +sucking tentacles. They will reach Malkern, and work will be paralyzed. +That means ruin to more than half the villagers who depend upon their +weekly wage. It goes further than that. The mills will shut down. And +if the mills shut, good-bye to all trade in Malkern. It means ruin for +everybody. It means the wrecking of all Dave's hopes--hopes which have +for their object the welfare of the people of our valley. It is a piece +of rascality that nothing can justify. Jim Truscott does not need our +pity. It is the penitentiary he needs. Betty, I'm--I'm----" + +But Betty looked up with passionate, glowing eyes from the work she had +resumed. + +"Do you think I don't know what it means, uncle?" she demanded, with a +depth of feeling that silenced him instantly. "Do you think because I +pity poor Jim that I do not understand the enormity of his wickedness +in this matter? Have I spent the best part of my life in our valley +carrying on the work that has fallen to my share--work that has been my +joy and happiness to do--without understanding the cruelty which this +strike means to our people, those who are powerless to help themselves +against it? Do you think I don't understand what it means to Dave? Oh, +uncle, if you but knew," she went on reproachfully. "I know it means +practically the end of all things for Dave if his contract fails. I +know that he is all out for the result. That his resources are even now +taxed to their uttermost limit, and that only the smooth running of the +work can save him from a disaster that will involve us all. If I had a +man's strength there is nothing I would not do to serve him. If my two +hands, if my brain could assist him in the smallest degree, he would +not need to ask for them. They are his--his!" she cried, with a passion +that thrilled the listening man. "You are angry with me because I feel +sorry for an erring man. I _am_ sorry for him. Yet should evil come to +our valley--to Dave--through his work, no wildcat would show him less +mercy than I. Oh, why am I not a man with two strong hands?" she cried +despairingly. "Why am I condemned to be a useless burden to those I +love? Oh, Dave, Dave," she cried with a sudden self-abandonment, so +passionate, so overwhelming that it alarmed her uncle, "why can't I +help you? Why can't I stand beside you and share in your battles with +these two hands?" She held out her arms, in a gesture of appeal. Then +they dropped to her side. In a moment she turned almost fiercely upon +her uncle, swept on by a tide of feeling long pent up behind the +barrier of her woman's reserve, but now no longer possible of +restraint. "I love him! I love him! I know! You are ashamed for me! I +can see it in your face! You think me unwomanly! You think I have +outraged the conventions which hem our sex in! And what if I have? I +don't care! I care for nothing and no one but him! He is the world to +me--the whole, wide world. I love him so I would give my life for him. +Oh, uncle, I love him, and I am powerless to help him." + +She sank into her chair, and buried her face in her hands. Blame, +displeasure, contempt, nothing mattered. The woman was stirred, let +loose; the calm strength which was so great a part of her character, +had been swept aside by her passion, which saw only the hopelessness +with which this strike confronted the man she loved. + +Chepstow watched her for some moments. He was no longer alarmed. His +heart ached for her, and he wanted to comfort her. But it was not easy +for him. At last he moved close to her side, and laid a hand upon her +bowed head. The action was full of a tender, even reverential sympathy. +And it was that, more than his words, which helped to comfort the +woman's stricken heart. + +"You're a good child, Betty," he said awkwardly. "And--and I'm glad you +love him. Dave will win out. Don't you fear. It is the difficulties he +has had to face that have made him the man he is. Remember Mason has +got away, and---- What's that?" + +Something crashed against the door and dropped to the ground outside. +Though the exclamation had broken from the man he needed no answer. It +was a stone. A stone hurled with vicious force. + +Betty sat up. Her face had suddenly returned to its usual calm. She +looked up into her uncle's eyes, and saw that the light of battle had +been rekindled there. Her own eyes brightened. She, too, realized that +battle was imminent. They were two against hundreds. Her spirit warmed. +Her recent hopelessness passed and she sprang to her feet. + +"The cowards!" she cried. + +The man only laughed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE RED TIDE OF ANARCHY + + +Betty and her uncle spent the next few hours in preparing for +eventualities. They explored the storeroom and armory, and in the +latter they found ample provision for a stout defense. There were +firearms in plenty, and such a supply of ammunition as should be +sufficient to withstand a siege. The store of dynamite gave them some +anxiety. It was dangerous where it was, in case of open warfare, but it +would be still more dangerous in the hands of the strikers. Eventually +they concealed it well under a pile of other stores in the hopes, in +case of accident, it might remain undiscovered. + +During their preparations several more stones crashed against the walls +and the door of the building. They were hurled at longish intervals, +and seemed to be the work of one person. Then, finally no more were +thrown, and futile as the attack had been, its cessation brought a +certain relief and ease of mind. To the man it suggested the work of +some drunken lumber-jack--perhaps the man who had been so forcibly +rebuffed by Betty earlier in the evening. + +It was one o'clock when Chepstow took a final look round his +barricades. Betty was sitting at the table with a fine array of +firearms spread out before her. She had just finished loading the last +one when her uncle came to her side. She looked up at him with quiet +amusement in her eyes. + +"I was wondering," she said, with just a suspicion of satire in her +manner, "whether we are in a state of siege, or--panic?" + +But her uncle's sense of humor was lacking at the moment. He saw only +the gravity of his responsibility. + +"You'd best get to bed," he said a little severely. "I shall sit up. +You must get all the rest you can. We do not know what may be in store +for us." + +Betty promptly fell in with his mood. + +"But the sick?" she said. "We must visit them to-morrow. We cannot let +them suffer." + +"No. We must wait and see what to-morrow brings forth. In the +meantime----" + +He broke off, listening. Betty too had suddenly turned her eyes upon +the barred door. There was a long pause, during which the murmur of +many voices reached them, and the faint but distinct sound of tramping +feet. The man's eyes grew anxious, his lean face was set and hard. It +was easy enough to read his thoughts. He was weighing the possibilities +of collision with these strikers, and calculating the chances in his +favor. Betty seemed less disturbed. Her eyes were steady and interested +rather than alarmed. + +"There's a crowd of them," said her uncle in a hushed voice. + +The girl listened for something which perhaps her uncle had forgotten. +Sober, she did not expect much trouble from these people. If they had +been drinking it would be different. + +The voices grew louder. The shuffling, clumping footsteps grew louder. +They drew near. They were within a few yards of the building. Finally +they stopped just outside the door. Instantly there was a loud +hammering upon it, and a harsh demand for admittance. + +Neither stirred. + +"Open the door!" roared the voice, and the cry was taken up by others +until it grew into a perfect babel of shouting and cursing. + +Betty moved to her uncle's side and laid a hand upon his arm. She +looked up into his face and saw the storm-clouds of his anger gathering +there. + +"We shall have to open it, uncle," she said. "That's--that's Tim +Canfield's voice." + +He looked down into her eager young face. He saw no fear there. He +feared, but not for himself: it was of her he was thinking. He wanted +to open the door. He wanted to vent his anger in scathing defiance, but +he was thinking of the girl in his charge. He was her sole protection. +He knew, only too well, what "strike" meant to these men. It meant the +turning of their savage passions loose upon brains all too untutored to +afford them a semblance of control. Then there was the drink, and drink +meant-- + +The clamor at the door was becoming terrific. He stirred, and, walking +swiftly across the room, put his mouth to the jamb. + +"What do you want?" he shouted angrily. "What right have you to come +here disturbing us at such an hour?" + +Instantly the noise dropped. Then he heard Tim's voice repeating his +words to the crowd, and they were greeted with a laugh that had in it a +note of rebellion. + +The laugh died out as the spokesman turned again to the door. + +"Open this gorl-durned door, or we'll bust it in!" he shouted. And a +chorus of "Break it in!" was taken up by the crowd. + +The parson's anger leapt. His keen nerves were on edge in a moment. +Even Betty's gentle eyes kindled. He turned to her, his eyes blazing. + +"Hand me a couple of guns!" he cried, in a voice that reached the men +outside. "Get hold of a couple yourself! If there's to be trouble we'll +take a hand!" Then he turned to the door, and his voice was thrilling +with "fight." "I'll open the door to no one till I know what you want!" +he shouted furiously. "Beat the door in! I warn you those who step +inside will get it good and plenty! Beat away!" + +His words had instant effect. For several seconds there was not a sound +on the other side of the door. Then some one muttered something, and +instantly the crowd took up a fierce cry, urging their leaders on. + +But the men in front were not to be rushed into a reckless assault, and +a fierce altercation ensued. Finally silence was restored, and Tim +Canfield spoke again, but there was a conciliatory note in his voice +this time. + +"You ken open it, passon," he said. "We're talkin' fair. We ain't +nuthin' up agin you. We're astin' you to help us out some. Ef you open +that door, me an' Mike Duggan'll step in, an' no one else. We'll tell +you what's doin'. Ther' don't need be no shootin' to this racket." + +The churchman considered. The position was awkward. His anger was +melting, but he knew that, for the moment, he had the whip hand. +However, he also knew if he didn't open the door, ultimately force +would certainly be used. These were not the men to be scared easily. +But Betty was in his thoughts, and finally it was Betty who decided for +him. + +"Open it," she whispered. "It's our best course. I don't think they +mean any harm--yet." + +The man reluctantly obeyed, but only after some moments' hesitation. He +withdrew the bars, and as the girl moved away beyond the stove, and sat +down to her sewing, he stepped aside, covering the doorway with his two +revolvers. + +"Only two of you!" he cried, as the door swung open. + +The two men came in and, turning quickly, shut the rest of the crowd +out and rebarred the door. + +Then they confronted the churchman's two guns. There was something +tremendously compelling in Chepstow's attitude and the light of battle +that shone in his eyes. He meant business, and they knew it. Their +respect for him rose, and they watched him warily until presently he +lowered the guns to his side. + +He eyed them severely. They were men he knew, men who were real +lumber-jacks, matured in the long service of Dave's mills, men who +should have known better. They were powerfully built and grizzled, with +faces and eyes as hard as their tremendous muscles. He knew the type +well. It was the type he had always admired, and a type, once they were +on the wrong path, he knew could be very, very dangerous. + +"Well, boys," he demanded, in a more moderate tone, yet holding them +with the severity of his expression. "What's all this bother about? +What do you mean by this intolerable--bulldozing?" + +The men suddenly discovered Betty at the far side of the stove. Her +attitude was one of preoccupation in her sewing. It was pretense, but +it looked natural. They abruptly pulled off their caps, and for the +moment, seemed half abashed. But it was only for the moment. The next, +Canfield turned on the churchman coldly. + +"You're actin' kind o' foolish, passon," he said. "It ain't no use +talkin' gun-play when ther' ain't no need whatever. It's like to make +things ridic'lous awkward, an' set the boys sore. We come along here +peaceful to talk you fair----" + +"So you bring an army," broke in Chepstow, impatiently, "after holding +a meeting at the store, and considering the advisability of making +prisoners of my niece and me." + +"Who said?" demanded Tim fiercely. + +"I did," retorted Chepstow militantly. + +The promptness of his retort silenced the lumberman. He grinned, and +leered round at his companion. + +"Well?" The parson's voice was getting sharper. + +"Well, it's like this, passon. Ther' ain't goin' to be no +prisoner-makin' if you'll act reas'nable. Ther' ain't nuthin' up to you +nor the leddy but wot's good an' clean. You've see to our boys who's +sick, an' just done right by us--we can't say the same fer others. We +just want you to come right along down to the camp. Ther's a feller bin +shot by that all-fired skunk Mason, an' I guess he's jest busy bleedin' +plumb to death. Will you come?" + +"Who is it?" + +The shortness of Chepstow's tone was uncompromising. + +The lumber-jack stirred uneasily. He glanced round at his companion. +The churchman saw the look and understood. + +"Come on, Mike Duggan, out with it. I'm not going to be played with," +he said. "Your mate doesn't seem easy about it. I suppose it's one of +the ringleaders of your strike, and you want me to patch him up so he +can go on with his dirty work. Well? I'm waiting." + +Duggan's eyes flashed. + +"Easy, passon," he said sharply. "The feller's name is Walford. You +ain't like to know him fer sure. He's kind o' runnin' things fer us. +He's hit in the shoulder bad." + +"Ah, it's that fellow who was speaking at your meeting. So he's got his +medicine. Good. Well, you want me to fix him up?" + +The lumber-jacks nodded. + +"That's it," said Duggan cheerfully. + +Chepstow considered for a moment. Then he glanced over at Betty. Their +eyes met, and his had a smile of encouragement in them. He turned back +at once to the waiting men. + +"I'll help you, but on one or two conditions. I demand my own +conditions absolutely. They're easy, but I won't change them or +moderate them by a single detail." + +"Get to it, passon," said Canfield, as he paused. "Make 'em easy, an' +ther' won't be no kick comin'." + +"You must bring the fellow here, and leave him with us until he is +sufficiently recovered. Any of you can come and see him, if he's not +too sick. Then you must give me a guarantee that my niece and I can +visit the sick camp to tend the boys up there without any sort of +molestation. You understand? You must guarantee this. You must +guarantee that we are in no way interfered with, and if at any time we +are out of this hut, no one will enter it without our permission. We +are here for peace. We are here to help your sick comrades. Your +affairs with your employers have nothing to do with us. Is it a deal?" + +"Why sure, passon," replied Duggan. And Tim nodded his approval. + +"It's folks like you makes things easy fer us," added the latter, with +hearty good-will. "Guess we'll shake on it." + +He held out his hand, and Chepstow promptly gripped it. He also shook +the other by the hand. + +"Now, boys," he said genially, "how about those others outside? How +will you guarantee them?" + +"We'll fix that quick. Say, Mike, just open that door." Canfield turned +again to Chepstow, while Mike obeyed orders. "I'll give 'em a few +words," he went on, "an' we'll send right off for Walford. He's mighty +bad, passon. He's----" + +The door was open by this time, and the two men hurried out. Chepstow +secured it behind them, and stood listening for what was to happen. He +heard Canfield haranguing the crowd, and his words seemed to have the +desired effect, for presently the whole lot began to move off, and in +two minutes the last sound of voices and receding footsteps had died +out. Betty drew a sigh of relief. + +"Uncle," she said, smiling affectionately across at him as he left the +door and came toward the stove, "you are a genius of diplomacy." + +The man laughed self-consciously. + +"Well, we have gained a point," he said doubtfully. + +Betty let her eyes fall upon her sewing again. + +"Yes, we have gained a point. I wonder how long that point will hold +good, when--when the drink begins to flow." + +"That's what I'm wondering." + +And their question was answered in less than twenty-four hours. + + +Half an hour later the wounded strike-leader was brought to the hut. He +was in a semi-conscious state, and a swift examination showed him to be +in a pretty bad way. The bullet had ploughed its way through the +shoulder, smashing both the collar-bone and the shoulder-blade. Then, +though no vital spot had been touched, the loss of blood had been +terrific. He had been left lying at the store ever since he was shot by +Mason, with just a rough bandage of his own shirt, which had been quite +powerless to stop the flow of blood. + +It took Chepstow nearly two hours to dress the wound and set the bones, +and by that time the man's weakness had plunged him into absolute +unconsciousness. Still, this was due solely to loss of blood, and with +careful nursing there was no real reason why he should not make a +satisfactory recovery. + +The rest of the night was spent at the sick man's bedside. Betty and +her uncle shared the vigil in reliefs, and, weary work as it was, they +never hesitated. A life was at stake, and though the man was the cause +of all the trouble, or instrumental in it, they were yet ready to spare +no effort on his behalf. With the parson it was sheer love of his duty +toward all men that gave him inspiration. With Betty there may have +been a less Christian spirit in her motives. All this man's efforts had +been directed against the man she loved, and she hated him for it; but +a life was at stake, and a life, to her, was a very sacred thing. + +The next day was spent between care for the sick at the fever camp and +the wounded man in their own quarters, and the guarantee of the +strikers was literally carried out. There were one or two visits to +their sick leader, but no interference or molestation occurred. Then at +sundown came the first warning of storm. + +Betty was returning to the dugout. She was tired and sick at heart with +her labors. For both it had been a strenuous day, but it had found her +strength out a good deal more than it had her uncle's. Ahead of her she +knew there yet lay a long night of nursing the wounded man. + +It was a gorgeous evening. The fog had quite passed away. A splendid +sunset lit the glittering peaks towering about her with a cloak of +iridescent fire. The snow caps shone with a ruddy glow, while the +ancient glaciers suggested molten streams pouring from the heart of +them to the darkling wood-belts below. The girl paused and for a moment +the wonder of the scene lifted her out of her weariness. But it was +only momentary. The whole picture was so transient. It changed and +varied with kaleidoscopic suddenness, and vanished altogether in less +than five minutes. Again the mountains assumed the gray cold of their +unlit beauties. The sun had gone, and day merged into night with almost +staggering abruptness. She turned with a sigh to resume her journey. + +It was then that her attention was drawn elsewhere. In the direction of +the lumber camp, in the very heart of it, it seemed, a heavy smoke was +rising and drifting westward on the light evening breeze. It was not +the haze of smoke from campfires just lit, but a cloud augmented by +great belches from below. And in the growing dusk she fancied there was +even a ruddy reflection lighting it. She stared with wide-open, +wondering eyes. + +Suddenly a great shaft of flame shot up into its midst, and, as it lit +the scene, she heard the shouting of men mingling with the crash of +falling timber. She stood spellbound, a strange terror gripping her +heart. It was fear of the unknown. There was a fire--burning what? She +turned and ran for the dugout. + +Bursting into the hut, she poured out her tidings to her uncle, who was +preparing supper. The man listening to her hasty words understood the +terror that beset her. Fire in those forest regions might well strike +terror into the heart. He held a great check upon himself. + +"Sit down, child," he said gently, at the conclusion of her story. "Sit +down and have some food. Afterward, while you see to Walford, I'll cut +through the woods and see what's doing." + +He accomplished his object. Betty calmed at once, and obediently sat +down to the food he set before her. She even forced herself to eat, and +presently realized she was hungry. The churchman said nothing until +they had finished eating. Then he lit his pipe. + +"It's drink, I expect," he said, as though he had been striving to +solve the matter during supper. "Likely they're burning the camp. We +know what they are." + +Betty took a deep breath. + +"And if they're doing that here, what about the outlying camps?" + +She knew that such an event would mean absolute ruin to Dave, and again +her terror rose. This time it was for Dave, and the feeling sickened +her. + +Her uncle put on his hat. He had no answer for her. He understood what +was in her mind. + +"Don't leave this place, Betty," he said calmly. "Redress Walford's +wound the way I showed you. Keep this door barred, and don't let any +one in. I'll be back soon." + +He was gone. And the manner of his going suggested anything but the +calmness with which he spoke. + + +Once outside, the terror he had refused to display in Betty's presence +lent wings to his feet. Night had closed in by the time he took to the +woods. Now the air was full of the burning reek, and he tried to +calculate the possibilities. He snuffed at the air to test the smell, +fearful lest it should be the forest that was burning. He could not +tell. He was too inexperienced in woodcraft to judge accurately. In +their sober senses these lumber-jacks dreaded fire as much as a sailor +dreads it at sea, then there could be little doubt as to the cause of +it now. The inevitable had happened. Drink was flowing, scorching out +the none too acute senses of these savages. Where would their orgy lead +them? Was there any limit that could hold them? He thought not. If he +were inexperienced in the woodsman's craft, he knew these woodsmen, and +he shuddered at the pictures his thoughts painted. + +As he drew nearer the camp the smoke got into his lungs. The fire must +be a big one. A sudden thought came to him, and with it his fears +receded. He wondered why it had not occurred to him before. Of course. +His eyes brightened almost to a smile. If what he suspected had +happened, perhaps it was the hand of Providence working in Dave's +interest. Working in Dave's, and---- Perhaps it was the cleansing fires +of the Almighty sent to wipe out the evil inspired by the erring mind +of man. + +He reached the fringe of woods which surrounded the clearing of the +camp, and in another few seconds he stood in the open. + +"Thank God," he exclaimed. Then, in a moment, the horror of a pitying +Christian mind shone in his eyes. His lips were tight shut, and his +hands clenched at his sides. Every muscle strung tense with the force +of his emotions. + +In the centre of the clearing the sutler's store was a blazing pile. +But it was literally in the centre, with such a distance between it and +the surrounding woods as to reduce the danger of setting fire to them +to a minimum. It was this, and the fact that it was the store where the +spirits were kept, that had inspired his heartfelt exclamation. But his +horror was for that which he saw besides. + +The running figures of the strikers about the fire were the figures of +men mad with drink. Their shoutings, their laughter, their antics told +him this. But they were not so drunk but what they had sacked the store +before setting it ablaze. Ah, he understood now, and he wondered what +had happened to the Jew trader. + +He drew nearer. He felt safe in doing so. These demented savages were +so fully occupied that they were scarcely likely to observe him. And if +they did, he doubted if he were running much personal risk. They had no +particular animosity for him. + +And as he came near, the sights he beheld sickened him. There were +several fights in progress. Not individual battles, but drunken brawls +in groups; mauling, savaging masses of men whose instinct, when roused, +it is to hurt, hurt anyhow, and if possible to kill. These men fought +as beasts fight, tearing each other with teeth and hands, gouging, +hacking, clawing. It was a merciless display of brute savagery inspired +by a bestial instinct, stirred to fever pitch by the filthy spirit +served in a lumber camp. + +At another point, well away from the burning building, the merchandise +was piled, tossed together in the reckless fashion only to be expected +in men so inspired. Around this were the more sober, helping themselves +greedily, snatching at clothing, at blankets, at the tools of their +craft. Some were loaded with tin boxes of fancy biscuits and canned +meats, others had possessed themselves of the cheap jewelry such as +traders love to dazzle the eyes of their simple customers with. Each +took as his stomach guided him, but with a gluttony for things which +can be had for nothing always to be found in people of unbridled +passions. It was a sight little less revolting than the other, for it +spoke of another form of unchecked savagery. + +Not far from this, shown in strong relief by the lurid fires, was +gathered a shouting, turbulent crowd round a pile of barrels and cases. +Three barrels were standing on end, apart from the rest, and their +heads had been removed, and round these struggled a maddened crew with +tin pannikins. They were dipping the fiery spirit out of the casks, and +draining each draught as hurriedly as the scorching stuff could pass +down their throats, so as to secure as much as possible before it was +all gone. The watching man shuddered. Truly a more terrible display was +inconceivable. The men were not human in their orgy. They were wild +beasts. What, he asked himself, what would be the result when the +liquor had saturated the brains of every one of them? It was too +terrible to contemplate. + +The roar of the blazing building, the babel of shouting, the darkly +lurid light shining amidst the shadows of surrounding woods, the +starlit heavens above, the stillness of mountain gloom and solitude; +these things created a picture so awful of contemplation as to be +unforgettable. Every detail drove into the watching man's heart as +though graven there with chisel and hammer. It was a hellish picture, +lit with hellish light, and set in the midst of gloom profound. The men +might have been demons silhouetted against the ruddy fire; their +doings, their antics, had in them so little that was human. It was +awful, and at last, in despair, the man on the outskirts of the +clearing turned and fled. Anything rather than this degrading sight; he +could bear it no longer. He sickened, yet his heart yearned for them. +There was nothing he could do to help them or check them. He could only +pray for their demented souls, and--see to the safeguarding of Betty. + + +Betty heard her uncle's voice calling, and flung down the bars of the +door. She looked into his ghastly face as he hurried in. She asked no +question, and watched him as with nervous hands he closed and secured +the door behind him. Her eyes followed his movements as he crossed to +the stove and flung himself into a chair. She saw his head droop +forward, and his hands cover his eyes in a gesture of despair. Still +she waited, her breath coming more quickly as the moments passed. + +She moved a step toward him, and slowly he raised a drawn haggard face, +and his horrified eyes looked into hers. + +"You must not leave this hut on any pretense, Betty," he said slowly. +Then he raised his eyes to the roof. "God have pity on them! They are +mad! Mad with drink, and ready for any debauchery. I could kill the +men," he went on, shaking his two clenched fists in the air, "who have +driven them----" + +"Hush, uncle!" the girl broke in, laying a restraining hand upon his +upraised arms. "One of them lies over there, and--and he is wounded. We +must do what we can to help." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT + + +It was sundown in the Red Sand Valley. The hush of evening had settled +upon Malkern, and its calm was only broken by the droning machinery of +the mills. The sky was lit by that chilly, yellow afterglow of sunset +which, eastward, merges into the gray and purple of twilight. Already +the long-drawn shadows had expanded into the dusk so rapidly obscuring +the remoter distance. Straight and solemn rose spires of smoke from +hidden chimneys, lolling in the still air, as though loath to leave the +scented atmosphere of the valley below. It was the moment of delicious +calm when Nature is preparing to seek repose. + +Two women were standing at the door of Dave's house, and the patch of +garden surrounding them, so simple, so plain, was a perfect setting for +their elderly, plainly clad figures. Dave's mother, very old, but full +of quiet energy, was listening to the gentle complaint of Mrs. +Chepstow. She was listening, but her gaze was fixed on the distant +mills, an attitude which had practically become her settled habit. The +mill, to her, was the end of the earth; there was nothing beyond. + +"I am dreadfully worried," Mrs. Tom was saying, the anxious wrinkles of +her forehead lifting her brows perplexedly. "It's more than six weeks +since I heard from Tom and Betty. It's not like him, he's so regular +with letters usually. It was madness letting Betty go up there. I can't +think what we were doing. If anything has happened to them I shall +never forgive myself. I think I shall go down and talk to Dave about +it. He may know something. He's sure to know if they are well." + +The other slowly withdrew her gaze from the mills. It was as though the +effort required to do so were a great one, and one she reluctantly +undertook. The pivot of her life was her boy. A pivot upon which it +revolved without flagging or interruption. She had watched him grow to +a magnificent manhood, and with all a pure woman's love and wonderful +instinct she had watched and tended him as she might some great oak +tree raised from the frailest sapling. Then, when his struggles came, +she had shared them with him with a supreme loyalty, helping him with a +quiet, strong sympathy which found expression in little touches which +probably even he never realized. All his successes and disasters had +been hers; all his joys, all his sorrows. And now, in her old age, she +clung to this love with the pathetic tenacity of one who realizes that +the final parting is not far distant. + +Her furrowed face lit with a wonderful smile. + +"I cannot say for sure," she said. "There are times when Dave will not +admit me to the thoughts which disturb him. At such times I know that +things are not running smoothly. There are other times when he talks +quite freely of his hopes, his fears. Then I know that all is well. +When he complains I know he is questioning his own judgment, and +distrusts himself. And when he laughs at things I know that the trouble +is a sore one, and I prepare for disaster. All his moods have meaning +for me. Just now I am reading from his silence, and it tells me that +much is wrong, and I am wondering. But I do not think it concerns +Betty--and, consequently, not your husband; if anything were wrong with +her I think I should know." She smiled with all the wisdom of old age. + +Mrs. Tom's anxiety was slightly allayed, but her curiosity was +proportionately roused. + +"Why would you know--about Betty?" she asked. + +The older woman's eyes were again turned in the direction of the mill. + +"Why--why?" She smiled and turned to the churchman's wife. "It would +produce a fresh mood in my boy, one I'm not familiar with." Then she +became suddenly grave. "I think I should dread that mood more than any +other. You see, deep down in his heart there are passionate depths that +no one has yet stirred. Were they let loose I fear to think how they +might drive him. Dave's head only rules just as far as his heart +chooses." + +"But Betty?" demanded Mrs. Tom. "How is she----" + +"Betty?" interrupted the other, humorously eyeing the eager face. "The +one great passion of Dave's life is Betty. I know. And he thinks it is +hopeless. I am betraying no confidence. Dave hugs his secret to +himself, but he can't hide it from me. I'm glad he loves her. You don't +know how glad. You see, I am in love with her myself, and--and I am +getting very old." + +"And--does Betty know?" + +Dave's mother shook her head and smiled. + +"Betty loves him, but neither understands the other's feelings. But +that is nothing. Love belongs to Heaven, and Heaven will straighten +this out. Listen!" + +The old woman's eyes turned abruptly in the direction of the mill. +There was a curious, anxious look in them, and a perplexed frown drew +her brows together. One hand was raised to hold the other woman's +attention. It was as though something vital had shocked her, as though +some sudden spasm of physical pain had seized her. Her face slowly grew +gray. + +Three people passing along the trail in front of the house had also +stopped. Their eyes were also turned in the direction of the mill. +Further along a child at play had suddenly paused in its game to turn +toward the mill. There were others, too, all over the village who gave +up their pursuits to listen. + +"The mills have stopped work!" cried Mrs. Torn breathlessly. + +But Dave's mother had no response for her. She had even forgotten the +other's presence at her side. The drone of the machinery was silent. + + +Dawson was interviewing his employer in the latter's office. Both men +looked desperately worried. Dave's eyes were lit with a brooding light. +It was as though a cloud of storm had settled upon his rugged features. +Dawson had desperation in every line of his hard face. + +"Have you sent up the river?" demanded Dave, eyeing his head man as +though he alone were responsible for the trouble which was upon them. + +"I've sent, boss. We've had jams on the river before, an' I guessed it +was that. I didn't worrit any for four-an'-twenty hours. It's different +now. Ther' ain't bin a log come down for nigh thirty-six hours." + +"How many men did you send up?" + +"Six. Two teams, an' all the gear needed for breakin' the jam." + +"Yes. You're sure it is a jam?" + +"Ther' ain't nothin' else, boss. Leastways, I can't see nothin' else." + +"No. And the boom? You've worked out the 'reserve'?" + +"Clean right out. Ther' ain't a log in it fit to cut." + +Dave sat down at his desk. He idled clumsily for some moments with the +pen in his fingers. His eyes were staring blankly out of the grimy +window. The din of the saws rose and fell, and the music for once +struck bitterly into his soul. It jarred his nerves, and he stirred +restlessly. What was this new trouble that had come upon him? No logs! +No logs! Why? He could not understand. A jam? Dawson said it must be a +jam on the river. He was a practical lumberman, and to him it was the +only explanation. He had sent up men to find out and free it. But why +should there be a jam? The river was wide and swift, and the logs were +never sent down in such crowds as to make a thing of that nature +possible at this time of year. Later, yes, when the water was low and +the stream slack, but now, after the recent rains, it was still a +torrent. No logs! The thought was always his nightmare, and now--it was +a reality. + +"It must be a jam, I s'pose," said Dave presently, but his tone carried +no conviction. + +"What else can it be, boss?" asked the foreman anxiously. + +His employer's manner, his tone of uncertainty, worried Dawson. He had +never seen Dave like this before. + +"That's so." + +Then a look of eager interest came into his eyes. He pointed at the +window. + +"Here's Odd," he said. "And he's in a hurry." + +Dawson threw open the door, and Simon Odd lumbered hurriedly into the +room. He seemed to fill up the place with his vast proportions. His +face was anxious and doubtful. + +"I've had to shut down at the other mill, boss," he explained abruptly. +"Ther' ain't no logs. Ther've been none for----" + +"Thirty-six hours," broke in Dave, with an impatient nod. "I know." + +"You know, boss?" + +"Yes." + +The master of the mills turned again to the window, and the two men +watched him in silence. What would he do? This man to whom they looked +in difficulty; this man who had never yet failed in resource, in +courage, to meet and overcome every obstacle, every emergency that +harassed a lumberman's life. + +Suddenly he turned to them again. In his eyes there was a peculiar, +angry light. + +"Well?" he demanded, in a fierce way that was utterly foreign to him. +"Well?" he reiterated, "what are you standing there for? Get you out, +both of you. Shut this mill down, too!" + +Simon Odd moved to the door, but Dawson remained where he was. It +almost seemed as if he had not understood. The mill was to be shut down +for the first time within his knowledge. What did it mean? In all his +years of association with Dave he had seen such wonders of lumbering +done by him that he looked upon him as almost infallible. And now--now +he was tacitly acknowledging defeat without making a single effort. The +realization, the shock of it, held him still. He made no move to obey +the roughly-spoken command. + +Suddenly Dave turned on him. His face was flushed. + +"Get out!" he roared. "Shut down the mill!" + +It was the cry of a man driven to a momentary frenzy. For the time +despair--black, terrible despair--drove the lumberman. He felt he +wanted to hit out and hurt some one. + +Dawson silently followed Odd to the door, and in five minutes the saws +were still. + +Dave sat on at his desk waiting. The moment the shriek of the machinery +ceased he sprang to his feet and began pacing the floor in nervous, +hurried strides. What that cessation meant to him only those may know +who have suddenly seen their life's ambitions, their hopes, crushed out +at one single blow. Let the saws continue their song, let the droning +machinery but keep its dead level of tone, and failure in any other +form, however disastrous, could not hurt in such degree as the sudden +silencing of his lumberman's world. + +For some minutes he was like a madman. He could not think, his nerves +shivered from his feet to the crown of his great ugly head. His hands +were clenched as he strode, until the nails of his fingers cut the +flesh of the palms into which they were crushed. For some minutes he +saw nothing but the black ruin that rose like a wall before him and +shut out every thought from his mind. The cessation of machinery was +like a pall suddenly burying his whole strength and manhood beneath its +paralyzing weight. + +But gradually the awful tension eased. It could not hold and its victim +remain sane. So narrow was his focus during those first passionate +moments that he could not see beyond his own personal loss. But with +the passing minutes his view widened, and into the picture grew those +things which had always been the inspiration of his ambitions. He flung +himself heavily into his chair, and his eyes stared through the dirty +window at the silent mill beyond. And for an hour he sat thus, +thinking, thinking. His nervous tension had passed, his mind became +clear, and though the nature of his thoughts lashed his heart, and a +hundred times drove him to the verge of that first passion of despair +again, there was an impersonal note in them which allowed the use of +his usually clear reasoning, and so helped him to rise above himself +once more. + +His castles had been set a-tumbling, and he saw in their fall the +crushing of Malkern, the village which was almost as a child to him. +And with the crushing of the village must come disaster to all his +friends. For one weak moment he felt that this responsibility should +not be his--it was not fair to fix it on him. What had he done to +deserve so hard a treatment? He thought of Tom Chepstow, loyal, kindly, +always caring and thinking for those who needed his help. He thought of +the traders of the village who hoped and prayed for his success, that +meant prosperity for themselves and happiness for their wives and +children. And these things began to rekindle the fighting flame within +him; the flame which hitherto had always burned so fiercely. He could +not let them go under. + +Then with a rush a picture rose before his mind, flooding it, shutting +out all those others, every thought of self or anybody else. It was +Betty, with her gentle face, her soft brown hair and tender smiling +eyes. Their steady courageous light shone deep down into his heart, and +seemed to smite him for his weakness. His pulses began to throb, the +weakened tide of his blood was sent coursing through his veins and +mounted, mounted steadily to his brain. God! He must not go under. Even +now the loyal child was up in the hills fighting his battles for him +with---- + +He broke off, and sprang to his feet. A terrible fear had suddenly +leapt at his heart and clutched him. Betty was up there in the hills. +He had not heard from the hill camps for weeks. And now the supply of +logs had ceased. What had happened? What was happening up there? + +The lethargy of despair lifted like a cloud. He was alert, thrilling +with all the virility of his manhood set pulsing through his veins. +Once more he was the man Dawson had failed to recognize when he ordered +the mills to be closed down. Once more he was the man whose personal +force had lifted him to his position as the master of Malkern mills. He +was the Dave whom all the people of the village knew, ready to fight to +the last ounce of his power, to the last drop of his blood. + +"They shan't beat us!" he muttered, as he strode out into the yard. Nor +could he have said of whom he was speaking, if anybody at all. + + +It was nearly midnight. Again Dawson and Simon Odd were in their +employer's office. But this time a very different note prevailed. +Dawson's hard face was full of keen interest. His eyes were eager. He +was listening to the great man he had always known. Simon Odd, burly +and unassuming, was waiting his turn when his chief had finished with +his principal foreman. + +"I've thought this thing out, Dawson," Dave said pleasantly, in a tone +calculated to inspire the other with confidence, and in a manner +suggesting that the affair of the logs had not seriously alarmed him, +"and evolved a fresh plan of action. No doubt, as you say, the thing's +simply a jam on the river. If this is so, it will be freed in a short +time, and we can go ahead. On the other hand, there may be some other +reason for the trouble. I can't think of any explanation myself, but +that is neither here nor there. Now I intend going up the river +to-night. Maybe I shall go on to the camps. I shall be entirely guided +by circumstances. Anyway I shall likely be away some days. Whatever is +wrong, I intend to see it straight. In the meantime you will stand +ready to begin work the moment the logs come down. And when they come +down I intend they shall come down at a pace that shall make up for all +the time we have lost. That's all I have for you. I simply say, be +ready. Good-night." + +The man went out with a grin of satisfaction on his weather-beaten +face. This was the Dave he knew, and he was glad. + +Simon Odd received his orders. He too must be ready. He must have his +men ready. His mill must be asked to do more than ever before when the +time came, and on his results would depend a comfortable bonus the size +of which quite dazzled the simple giant. + +With his departure Dave began his own preparations. There was much to +see to in leaving everything straight for his foremen. Dawson was more +than willing. This new responsibility appealed to him as no other +confidence his employer could have reposed in him. They spent some time +together, and finally Dave returned to his office. + +During the evening inquirers from the village flooded the place. But no +official information on the subject of the cessation of work was +forthcoming, nor would Dave see any of them. They were driven to be +content with gleanings of news from the mill hands, and these, with the +simple lumberman's understanding of such things, explained that there +was a jam on the river which might take a day, or even two days, to +free. In this way a panic in the village was averted. + +Dave required provisions from home. But he could not spare the time to +return there for them. He intended to set out on his journey at +midnight. Besides, he had no wish to alarm his old mother. And somehow +he was afraid she would drag the whole truth of his fears out of him. +So he sent a note by one of the men setting out his requirements. + +His answer came promptly. The man returned with the kit bag only, and +word that his mother was bringing the food down herself, and he smiled +at the futility of his attempt to put her off. + +Ten minutes later she entered his office with her burden of provisions. +Her face was calmly smiling. There was no trace of anxiety in it. So +carefully was the latter suppressed that the effort it entailed became +apparent to the man. + +"You shouldn't have bothered, ma," he protested. "I sent the man up +specially to bring those things down." + +His mother's eyes had a shrewd look in them. + +"I know," she said. "There's a ham and some bacon, biscuit, and a fresh +roast of beef here. Then I've put in a good supply of groceries." + +"Thanks, dear," he said gently. "You always take care of my inner man. +But I wish you hadn't bothered this way." + +"It's no sort of trouble," she said, raising her eyes to his. Then she +let them drop again. "Food don't need a lumberman's rough handling." + +The smile on Dave's face was good to see. He nodded. + +"I'd better tell you," he said. "You know, we've--stopped?" + +His eyes lingered fondly on the aged figure. This woman was very +precious to him. + +"Yes, I know." There was the very slightest flash of anxiety in the old +eyes. Then it was gone. + +"I'm going up the river to find things out." + +"That's what I understood. Betty is up there--too." + +The quiet assurance of his mother's remark brought a fresh light into +the man's eyes, and the blood surged to his cheeks. + +"Yes, ma. That's it--chiefly." + +"I thought so. And--I'm glad. You'll bring her back with you?" + +"Yes, ma." + +"Good-bye, boy." His simple assurance satisfied her. Her faith in him +was the faith of a mother. + +The man bent down and kissed the withered, upturned face. + +She went out, and Dave turned to the things she had brought him. She +had thought of everything. And the food--he smiled. She was his mother, +and the food had the amplitude such as is characteristic of a mother +when providing for a beloved son. + +He must visit the barn to see about his horses. He went to the door. +Opening it, he paused. Standing there he became aware of the sound of +approaching wheels. The absence of any noise from the mills had made +the night intensely silent, so that the rattle of wheels upon the hard +sand trail, though distant, sounded acutely on the night air. He stood +listening, with one great hand grasping the door casing. Yes, they were +wheels. And now, too, he could hear the sharp pattering of horses' +hoofs. The sound was uneven, yet regular, and he recognized the gait. +They were approaching at a gallop. Nearer they came, and of a sudden he +understood they were practically racing for the mill. + +He left the doorway and moved out into the yard. He thought it might be +the team which Dawson had sent out returning, and perhaps bringing good +news of the jam on the river. He walked toward the yard gates and stood +listening intently. The night was dark, but clear and still, and as he +listened he fancied in the rattle of the vehicle he recognized the +peculiar creak of a buckboard. + +Nearer and nearer it came, louder and louder the clatter of hoofs and +the rattle of wheels. The gallop seemed labored, like the clumsy gait +of weary horses, and the waiting man straining could plainly hear a +voice urging them on. + +Suddenly he thought of the gates, and promptly opened them. He hardly +knew why he did so. It must have been the effect of the pace at which +the horses were being driven. It must have been that the speed inspired +him with an idea of emergency. Now he stood out in the road, and +stooping, glanced along it till the faint light of the horizon revealed +a dark object on the trail. He drew back and slowly returned to the +office. + +The man's voice urging his horses on required no effort to hear now. It +was hoarse with shouting, and the slashing of his whip told the waiting +man of the pace at which he had traveled. The vehicle entered the yard +gates. The urging voice became silent, the weary horses clattered up to +the office door and came to a standstill. + +From the doorway Dave surveyed the outfit. He did not recognize it, but +something about the man climbing out of the vehicle was familiar. + +"That you, Mason?" he asked sharply. + +"Yes--and another. Will you bear a hand to get him out?" + +Dave went to his assistance, wondering. Mason was busy undoing some +ropes. Dave's wonder increased. As he came up he saw that the ropes +held a man captive in the carryall. + +"Who is it?" he inquired. + +"Jim Truscott--whoever he may be," responded Mason with a laugh, as he +freed the last rope. + +"Ah! Well, come right in--and bring him along too." + +But Mason remembered the animals that had served him so well. + +"What about the 'plugs'?" He was holding his captive, who stood silent +at his side. + +"You go inside. I'll see to them." + +Dave watched Mason conduct his prisoner into the office, then he sprang +into the buckboard and drove it across to the barn. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +MASON'S PRISONER + + +In a few minutes Dave returned from the barn. He had chosen to attend +to the horses himself, for his own reasons preferring not to rouse the +man who looked after his horses. + +His thoughts were busy while he was thus occupied. As yet he had no +idea of what had actually occurred in the camps, but Mason's presence +at such a time, the identity of his prisoner, the horses' condition of +exhaustion; these things warned him of the gravity of the situation, +and something of the possibilities. By the time he reëntered the office +he was prepared for anything his "camp-boss" might have to tell him. + +He noted the faces of the two men carefully. In Mason he saw the +weariness of a long nervous strain. His broad face was drawn, his eyes +were sunken and deeply shadowed. From head to foot he was powdered with +the red dust of the trail. Dave was accustomed to being well served, +but he felt that this man had been serving him to something very near +the limits of his endurance. Jim Truscott's face afforded him the +keenest interest. It was healthier looking than he had seen it since +his first return to Malkern. The bloated puffiness, the hall-mark of +his persistent debauches, had almost entirely gone. The health produced +by open-air and spare feeding showed in the tan of his skin. His eyes +were clear, and though he, too, looked worn out, there was less of +exhaustion about him than his captor. On the other hand there was none +of Mason's fearless honesty in his expression. There was a truculent +defiance in his eyes, a furious scowl in the drawn brows. There was a +nervousness in the loose, weak mouth. His wrists were lashed securely +together by a rope which had been applied with scant mercy. Dave's eyes +took all these things in, and he pointed to the latter as he addressed +himself to his overseer. + +"Better loose that," he said, in that even voice which gave away so +little of his real feelings. "Guess you're both pretty near done in," +he went on, as Mason unfastened the knots. "Got down here in a hurry?" + +"Yes; got any whiskey?" + +Mason had finished removing the prisoner's bonds when he spoke. + +"Brandy." + +"That'll do." + +The overseer laughed as men will laugh when they are least inclined to. +Dave poured out long drinks and handed them to the two men. Mason drank +his down at a gulp, but Truscott pushed his aside without a word. + +"There's a deal to tell," said the overseer, as he set his glass down. + +"There's some hours to daylight," Dave replied. "Go right ahead, and +take your own time." + +The other let his tired eyes rest on his prisoner for some moments and +remained silent. He was considering how best to tell his story. +Suddenly he looked up. + +"The camp's on 'strike,'" he said. + +"Ah!" And it was Dave's eyes that fell upon Jim Truscott now. + +There was a world of significance in that ejaculation and the +expression that leapt to the lumberman's eyes. It was a desperate blow +the overseer had dealt him; but it was a blow that did not crush. It +carried with it a complete explanation. And that explanation was of +something he understood and had power to deal with. + +"And--this?" Dave nodded in Jim's direction. + +"Is one of the leaders." + +"Ah!" + +Again came Dave's meaning ejaculation. Then he settled himself in his +chair and prepared to listen. + +"Get going," he said; but he felt that he required little more +explanation. + +Mason began his story by inquiries about his own letters to his +employer, and learned that none of them had been received during the +last few weeks, and he gave a similar reply to Dave's inquiries as to +the fate of his letters to the camp. Then he went on to the particulars +of the strike movement, from the first appearance of unrest to the +final moment when it became an accomplished fact. He told him how the +chance "hands" he had been forced to take on had been the disturbing +element, and these, he was now convinced, had for some reason been +inspired. He told of that visit on the Sunday night to the sutler's +store, he told of his narrow escape, and of his shooting down one of +the men, and the fortunate capture, made with the timely assistance of +Tom Chepstow, of his prisoner. Dave listened attentively, but his eyes +were always on Truscott, and at the finish of the long story his +commendation was less hearty than one might have expected. + +"You've made good, Mason, an' I'm obliged," he said, after a prolonged +silence. "Say," he went on, glancing at his watch, "there's just four +and a half hours to the time we start back for the camp. Go over to +Dawson's shack and get a shake-down. Get what sleep you can. I'll call +you in time. Meanwhile I'll see to this fellow," he added, indicating +the prisoner. "We'll have a heap of time for talk on the way to the +camps." + +The overseer's eyes lit. + +"Are you going up to the camps?" he inquired eagerly. + +"Yes, surely. We'll have to straighten this out." Then a sudden thought +flashed through his mind. "There's the parson and----!" + +Mason nodded. + +"Yes. They've got my shack. There's plenty of arms and ammunition. I +left parson to hurry back to----" + +"He wasn't with her when you left?" + +There was a sudden, fierce light in Dave's eyes. Mason shook his head, +and something of the other's apprehension was in his voice as he +replied-- + +"He was going back there." + +Dave's eyes were fiercely riveted upon Truscott's face. + +"We'll start earlier. Get an hour's sleep." + +There was no misunderstanding his employer's tone. In fact, for the +first time since he had left the camp Mason realized the full danger of +those two he had left behind him. But he knew he had done the only +possible thing in the circumstances, and besides, his presence there +would have added to their danger. Still, as he left the office to seek +the brief rest for which he was longing, he was not without a qualm of +conscience which his honest judgment told him he was not entitled to. + +Dave closed the door carefully behind him. Then he came back to his +chair, and for some moments surveyed his prisoner in silence. Truscott +stirred uneasily under the cold regard. Then he looked up, and all his +bitter hatred for his one-time friend shone in the defiant stare he +gave him. + +"I've tried to understand, but I can't," Dave said at last, as though +his words were the result of long speculation. "It is so far beyond me +that---- This is your doing, all your doing. It's nothing to do with +those--those 'scabs.' You, and you alone have brought about this +strike. First you pay a man to wreck my mills--you even try to kill me. +Now you do this. You have thought it all out with devilish cunning. +There is nothing that could ruin me so surely as this strike. You mean +to wreck me; nor do you care who goes down in the crash. You have +already slain one man in your villainy. For that you stand branded +a--murderer. God alone knows what death and destruction this strike in +the hills may bring about. And all of it is aimed at me. Why? In God's +name, why?" + +Dave's manner was that of cold argument. He displayed none of the +passion that really stirred him. He longed to take this man in his two +great hands, and crush the mean life out of him. But nothing of such +feeling was allowed to show itself. He began to fill his pipe. He did +not want to smoke, but it gave his hands something to do, and just then +his hands demanded something to do. + +His words elicited no reply. Truscott's eyes were upon the hands +fumbling at the bowl of the pipe. He was not really observing them. He +was wrapped in his own thoughts, and his eyes simply fixed themselves +on the only moving thing in the room. Dave put his pipe in his mouth +and refolded his pouch. Presently he went on speaking, and his tone +became warmer, and his words more rapid. + +"There was a time when you were a man, a decent, honest, happy man; a +youngster with all the world before you. At that time I did all in my +power to help you. You remember? You ran that mill. It was a matter of +hanging on and waiting till fortune turned your way for success and +prosperity to come. Then one day you came to me; you and she. It was +decided that you should go away--to seek your fortune elsewhere. We +shook hands. Do you remember? You left her in my care. All this seems +like yesterday. I promised you then that always, in the name of +friendship, you could command me. Your trust I carried out to the +letter, and all I promised I was ready to fulfil. Need I remind you of +what has happened since? Need I draw a picture of the drunkard, gambler +who returned to Malkern, of the insults you have put upon her, +everybody? Of her patience and loyalty? Of the manner in which you +finally made it impossible for her to marry you? It is not necessary. +You know it all--if you are a sane man, which I am beginning to doubt. +And now--now why are you doing all this? I intend to know. I mean to +drag it out of you before you leave this room!" + +He had risen from his seat and stood before his captive with one hand +outstretched in his direction, grasping his pipe by the bowl. His +calmness had gone, a passion of angry protest surged through his veins. +He was no longer the cool, clear-headed master of the mills, but a man +swept by a fury of resentment at the injustice, the wanton, devilish, +mischievous injustice of one whom he had always befriended. Friendship +was gone and in its place there burned the human desire for retaliation. + +Truscott's introspective stare changed to a wicked laugh. It was +forced, and had for its object the intention of goading the other. Dave +calmed immediately. He understood that laugh in time, and so it failed +in its purpose and died out. In its place the man's face darkened. It +was he who fell a victim to his own intention. All his hatred for his +one-time friend rose within him suddenly, and swept him on its burning +tide. + +"You stand there preaching! You!" he cried with a ferocity so sudden +that it became appalling. "You dare to preach to me of honesty, of +friendship, of promises fulfilled? You? God, it makes me boil to hear +you! If ever there was a traitor to friendship in this world it is you. +I came back to marry Betty. Why else should I come back? And I +find--what? She is changed. You have seen to that. For a time she kept +up the pretense of our engagement. Then she seized upon the first +excuse to break it. Why? For you! Oh, your trust was well fulfilled. +You lost no time in my absence. Who was it I found her with on my +return? You! Who was present to give her courage and support when she +refused to marry me? You! Do you think I haven't seen the way it has +all been worked? You have secured her uncle's and aunt's support. You! +You have taken her from me! You! And you preach friendship and honesty +to me. God, but you're a liar and a thief!" + +For a moment the lumberman's fury leapt and in another he would have +crushed the man's life out of him, but, in a flash, his whole mood +changed. The accusations were so absurd even from his own point of +view. Could it be? For a moment he believed that the loss of Betty had +unhinged Truscott's mind. But the thought passed, and he grew as calm +now as a moment before he had been furious, and an icy sternness +chilled him through and through. There was no longer a vestige of pity +in him for his accuser. He sat down and lit his pipe, his heavy face +set with the iron that had entered his soul. + +"You have lied to yourself until you have come to believe it," he said +sternly. "You have lied because it is your nature to lie, because you +have not an honest thought in your mind. I'll not answer your +accusations, because they are so hopelessly absurd; but I'll tell you +what I intend to do." + +"You won't answer them because you cannot deny them!" Truscott broke in +furiously. "They are true, and you know it. You have stolen her from +me. You! Oh, God, I hate you!" + +His voice rose to a strident shout and Dave raised a warning hand. + +"Keep quiet!" he commanded coldly. "I have listened to you, and now you +shall listen to me." + +The fire in the other's eyes still shone luridly, but he became silent +under the coldly compelling manner, while, like a savage beast, he +crouched in his chair ready to break out into passionate protest at the +least chance. + +"I don't know yet how far things have gone in the way you wish them to +go up there in the hills, but you have found the way to accomplish your +end in ruining me. If the strike continues I tell you frankly you will +have done what you set out to do. My resources are taxed now to the +limit. That will rejoice you." + +Truscott grinned savagely as he sprang in with his retort. + +"The strike is thoroughly established, and there are those up there +who'll see it through. Yes, yes, my friend, it is my doing; all my +doing, and it cannot fail me now. The money I took from you for the +mill I laid out well. I laid out more than that--practically all I had +in the world. Oh, I spared nothing; I had no intention of failing. I +would give even my life to ruin you!" + +"Don't be too sure you may not yet have to pay that price," Dave said +grimly. + +"Willingly." + +Truscott's whole manner carried conviction. Dave read in the sudden +clipping of his teeth, the deadly light of his eyes, the clenching of +his hands that he meant it. + +"I'll ruin you even if I die for it, but I'll see you ruined first," +cried Truscott. + +"You have miscalculated one thing, Truscott," Dave said slowly. "You +have forgotten that you are in my power and a captive. However, we'll +let that go for the moment. I promise you you shall never live to see +me suffer in the way you hope. You shall not even be aware of it. I +care nothing for the ruin you hope for, so far as I am personally +concerned, but I do care for other reasons. In dragging me down you +will drag Malkern down, too. You will ruin many others. You will even +involve Betty in the crash, for she, like the rest of us, is bound up +in Malkern. And in this you will hurt me--hurt me as in your wildest +dreams you never expected to do." Then he leant forward in his seat, +and a subtle, deliberate intensity, more deadly for the very frigidity +of his tone was in his whole attitude. His hands were outstretched +toward his captive, his fingers were extended and bent at the joints +like talons ready to clutch and rend their prey. "Now, I tell you +this," he went on, "as surely as harm comes to Betty up in that camp, +through any doings of yours, as surely as ruin through your agency +descends upon this valley, as Almighty God is my Judge I will tear the +life out of you with my own two hands." + +For a moment Truscott's eyes supported the frigid glare of Dave's. For +a moment he had it in his mind to fling defiance at him. Then his eyes +shifted and he looked away, and defiance died out of his mind. The +stronger nature shook the weaker, and an involuntary shudder of +apprehension slowly crept over him. Dave stirred to the pitch of +threatening deliberate slaughter had been beyond his imagination. Now +that he saw it the sight was not pleasant. + +Suddenly the lumberman sprang to his feet + +"We'll start right away," he said, in his usual voice. + +"We?" The monosyllabic question sprang from Truscott's lips in a sudden +access of fear. + +"Yes. We. Mason, you, and me." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +TO THE LUMBER CAMP + + +The gray morning mist rolled slowly up the hillsides from the bosom of +the warming valley below. Great billows mounted, swelling in volume +till, overweighted, they toppled, surging like the breaking rollers of +a wind-swept ocean. Here and there the rosy sunlight brushed the +swirling sea with a tenderness of color no painter's brush could ever +hope to produce. A precocious sunbeam shot athwart the leaden prospect. +It bored its way through the churning fog searching the depths of some +benighted wood-lined hollow, as though to rouse its slumbering world. + +Dense spruce and hemlock forests grew out of the mists. The spires of +gigantic pines rose, piercing the gray as though gasping for the +warming radiance above. A perching eagle, newly roused from its +slumbers, shrieked its morning song till the rebounding cries, echoing +from a thousand directions, suggested the reveille of the entire +feathered world. The mournful whistle of a solitary marmot swelled the +song from many new directions, and the raucous chorus had for its +accompaniment the thundering chords of hidden waters, seething and +boiling in the mighty cañons below. + +The long-drawn, sibilant hush of night was gone; the leaden mountain +dawn had passed; day, glorious in its waking splendor, had routed the +grim shadows from the mystic depths of cañon, from the leaden-hued +forest-laden valleys. The sunlight was upon the dazzling mountain-tops, +groping, searching the very heart of the Rocky Mountains. + +Dave's buckboard, no more conspicuous than some wandering ant in the +vast mountain world, crawled from the depths of a wide valley and +slowly mounted the shoulders of a forest-clad ridge. It vanished into +the twilight of giant woods, only to be seen again, some hours later, +at a greater altitude, climbing, climbing the great slopes, or +descending to gaping hollows, but always attaining the higher lands. + +But his speed was by no means a crawl in reality, only did it appear so +by reason of the vastness of the world about him. His horses were +traveling as fresh, mettlesome beasts can travel when urged by such a +man as Dave, with his nerves strung to a terrific tension by the +emergency of his journey. The willing beasts raced down the hills over +the uneven trail with all the sure-footed carelessness of the +prairie-bred broncho. They took the inclines with scarcely perceptible +slackening of their gait. And only the sharp hills served them for +breathing space. + +Dave occupied the driving-seat while Mason sat guard over Jim Truscott +in the carryall behind. Those two days on the trail had been unusually +silent, even for men such as they were, and even taking into +consideration the object of their journey. Truscott and Mason were +almost "dead beat" with all that had gone before, and Dave--he was +wrapped in his own thoughts. + +His thoughts carried him far away from his companions into a world +where love and strife were curiously blended. Every thread of such +thought sent him blundering into mires of trouble, the possibilities of +which set his nerves jangling with apprehension. But their +contemplation only stiffened his stern resolve to fight the coming +battle with a courage and resource such as never yet had he brought to +bear in his bid for success. He knew that before him lay the +culminating battle of his long and ardent sieging of Fortune's +stronghold. He knew that now, at last, he was face to face with the +great test of his fitness. He knew that this battle had always been +bound to come before the goal of his success was reached; although, +perhaps, its method and its cause may have taken a thousand other +forms. It is not in the nature of things that a man may march untested +straight to the golden pastures of his ambitions. He must fight every +foot of his way, and the final battle must ever be the sternest, the +crudest. God help the man if he has not the fitness, for Fate and +Fortune are remorseless foes. + +But besides his native courage, Dave was stirred to even greater +efforts by man's strongest motive, be his cause for good or evil. Love +was the main-spring of his inspiration. He had desired success with a +passionate longing all his life, and his success was not all +selfishness. But now, before all things, he saw the sweetly gentle face +of Betty Somers gazing with a heartful appeal, beckoning him, calling +him to help her. Every moment of that long journey the vision remained +with him; every moment he felt might be the moment of dire tragedy for +her. He dared not trust himself to consider the nature of that tragedy, +or he must have turned and rended the man who was its cause. Only he +blessed each moment that passed, bringing him nearer to her side. He +loved her as he loved nothing and no one else on earth, and somehow +there had crept into his mind the thought of a possibility he had never +yet dared to consider. It was a vague ray of hope that the +impossibility of his love was not so great as he had always believed. + +How it had stolen in upon him he hardly knew. Perhaps it was his +mother's persistent references to Betty. Perhaps it was the result of +his talk with the man who had brought her to the straits she was now +placed in. Perhaps it was one of these things, or both, coupled with +the memory of trifling incidents in the past, which had seemed to mean +nothing at the time of their happening. + +Whatever it was, his love for the girl swept through him now in a way +that drove him headlong to her rescue. His own affairs of the mills, +the fate of his friends in Malkern, of the village itself; all these +things were driven into the background of his thoughts. Betty needed +him. The thought set his brain whirling with a wild thrilling +happiness, mazed, every alternate moment, with a horrible fear that +drove him to the depths of despair. + +It was high noon when smoke ahead warned him that the journey was +nearly over. The buckboard was on the ridge shouldering a wide valley, +and below it was the rushing torrent of the Red Sand River. From his +position Dave had a full view of the dull green forest world rolling +away, east and west, in vast, undulating waves as far as the eye could +reach. Only to the south, beyond the valley, was there a break in the +dense, verdant carpet. And here it was he beheld the telltale smoke of +the lumber camp. + +"That's the camp," he said, looking straight ahead, watching the slowly +rising haze with longing eyes. "Guess we haven't to cross the river. +Good." + +Mason was looking out over his shoulder. + +"No," he said after a moment's pause, while he tried to read the signs +he beheld. "We don't cross the river. Keep to the trail. It takes us +right past my shack." + +"Where Parson Tom and----?" + +"Yes, where they're living." + +In another quarter of a mile they would be descending the hollow of a +small valley diverging from the valley of the Red Sand River. As they +drew near the decline, Dave spoke again. + +"Can you make anything out, Mason?" he asked. "Seems to me that smoke +is thick for--for stovepipes. There's two lots; one of 'em nearer this +way." + +Mason stared out for some moments, shielding his eyes from the dazzling +sun. + +"I can't be sure," he said at last. "The nearest smoke should be my +shack." + +A grave anxiety crept into Dave's eyes. + +"It isn't thick there," he said, as though trying to reassure himself. +"That's your stovepipe?" + +"Maybe." + +Mason's reply expressed doubt. + +Suddenly Dave leant over and his whip fell sharply across the horses' +backs. They sprang at their neck-yoke and raced down into the final dip. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +AT BAY + + +In the dugout Tom Chepstow was standing with his ear pressed against +the door-jamb. He was listening, straining with every nerve alert to +glean the least indication of what was going on outside. His face was +pale and drawn, and his eyes shone with anxiety. He was gripped by a +fear he had never known before, a fear that might well come to the +bravest. Personal, physical danger he understood, it was almost +pleasant to him, something that gave life a new interest. But +this--this was different, this was horrible. + +Betty was standing just behind him. She was leaning forward craning +intently. Her hands were clenched at her sides, and a similar dread was +looking out of her soft eyes. Her face was pale with a marble coldness, +her rich red lips were compressed to a fine line, her whole body was +tense with the fear that lay behind her straining eyes. There was +desperation in the poise of her body, the desperation of a brave woman +who sees the last hope vanishing, swallowed up in a tide of disaster +she is powerless to stem. + +For nearly a week these two had been penned up in the hut. But for the +last thirty-six hours their stronghold had actually been in a state of +siege. From the time of her uncle's realization of the conditions +obtaining outside Betty had not ventured without the building, while +the man himself had been forced to use the utmost caution in moving +abroad. It had been absolutely necessary for him to make several +expeditions, otherwise he, too, would have remained in their fortress. +They required water and fire-wood, and these things had to be procured. +Then, too, there were the sick. + +But on the third day the climax was reached. Returning from one of his +expeditions Chepstow encountered a drunken gang of lumber-jacks. Under +the influence of their recent orgy their spirit-soaked brains had +conceived the pretty idea of "ilin' the passon's works"; in other +words, forcing drink upon him, and making him as drunk as themselves. +In their present condition the joke appealed to them, and it was not +without a violent struggle that their intended victim escaped. + +He was carrying fire-wood at the time, and it served him well as a +weapon of defense. In a few brief moments he had left one man stunned +upon the ground and another with a horribly broken face, and was +himself racing for the dugout. He easily outstripped his drunken +pursuers, but he was quickly to learn how high a price he must pay for +the temporary victory. He had brought a veritable hornets' nest about +his ears. + +The mischief began. The attack upon himself had only been a drunken +practical joke. The subsequent happenings were in deadly earnest. The +mob came in a blaze of savage fury. Their first thought was for +vengeance upon him. In all probability, up to that time, Betty's +presence in the hut had been forgotten, but now, as they came to the +dugout, they remembered. In their present condition it was but a short +step from a desire to revenge themselves upon him, to the suggestion of +how it could be accomplished through the girl. They remembered her +pretty face, her delicious woman's figure, and instantly they became +ravening brutes, fired with a mad desire to possess themselves of her. + +They were no longer strikers, they were not even men. The spirit taken +from the burning store had done its work. A howling pack of demons had +been turned loose upon the camp, ready for any fiendish prank, ready +for slaughter, ready for anything. These untutored creatures knew no +better, they were powerless to help themselves, their passions alone +guided them at all times, and now all that was most evil in them was +frothing to the surface. Sober, they were as tame as caged wolves kept +under by the bludgeon of a stern discipline. Drunk, they were madmen, +driven by the untamed passions of the brute creation. They were animals +without the restraining instincts of the animal, they lusted for the +exercise of their great muscles, and the vital forces which swept +through their veins in a passionate torrent. + +Their first effort was a demand for the surrender of those in the hut, +and they were coldly refused. They attempted a parley, and received no +encouragement. Now they were determined upon capture, with loudly +shouted threats of dire consequences for the defenders' obstinacy. + +It was close upon noon of the second day of the siege. The hut was +barricaded at every point. Door and windows were blocked up with every +available piece of furniture that could be spared, and the +repeating-rifles were loaded ready, and both uncle and niece were armed +with revolvers. They were defending more than life and liberty, and +they knew it. They were defending all that is most sacred in a woman's +life. It was a ghastly thought, a desperate thought, but a thought that +roused in them both a conviction that any defense brain could conceive +was justified. If necessary not even life itself should stand in the +way of their defense. + +The yellow lamplight threw gloomy shadows about the barricaded room. +Its depressing light added to the sinister aspect of their extremity. +The silence was ominous, it was fraught with a portend of disaster; +disaster worse than death. How could they hope to withstand the attack +of the men outside? They were waiting, waiting for what was to happen. +Every conceivable method had been adopted by the besiegers to dislodge +their intended victims. They had tried to tear the roof off, but the +heavy logs were well dovetailed, and the process would have taken too +long, and exposed those attempting it to the fire of the rifles in the +capable hands of the defenders. Chepstow had illustrated his +determination promptly by a half dozen shots fired at the first moving +of one of the logs. Then had come an assault on the door, but, here +again, the ready play of the rifle from one of the windows had driven +these besiegers hurriedly to cover. Some man, more blinded with drink +than the rest of his comrades, had suggested fire. But his suggestion +was promptly vetoed. Had it been the parson only they would probably +have had no scruples, but Betty was there, and they wanted Betty. + +For some time there had been no further assault. + +"I wish I knew how many there were," Chepstow said, in a low voice. + +"Would that do any good?" + +The man moved his shoulders in something like a despairing shrug. + +"Would anything do any good?" + +"Nothing I can think of," Betty murmured bitterly. + +"I thought if there were say only a dozen I might open this door. We +have the repeating-rifles." + +The man's eyes as he spoke glittered with a fierce light. Betty saw it, +and somehow it made her shiver. + +It brought home to her their extremity even more poignantly than all +that had gone before. When a brave churchman's thoughts concentrated in +such a direction she felt that their hopes were small indeed. + +She shook her head. + +"No, uncle dear. We must wait for that until they force an entrance." +She was cool enough in her desperation, cooler far than he. + +"Yes," he nodded reluctantly, "perhaps you're right, but the suspense +is--killing. Hark! Listen, they are coming at us again. I wonder what +it is to be this time." + +The harsh voices of the drunken mob could be plainly heard. They were +coming nearer. Brutal laughter assailed the straining ears inside, and +set their nerves tingling afresh. Then came a hush. It lasted some +seconds. Then a single laugh just outside the door broke upon the +silence. + +"Try again," a voice said. "Say, here's some more. 'Struth you're a +heap of G---- d---- foolishness." + +Another voice broke in angrily. + +"God strike you!" it snarled, "do it your b---- self." + +"Right ho!" + +Then there came a shuffling of feet, and, a moment later, a scraping +and scratching at the foot of the door. Chepstow glanced down at it, +and Betty's eyes were irresistibly drawn in the same direction. + +"What are they doing now?" + +It was the voice of the wounded strike-leader on his bunk at the far +end of the room. He was staring over at the door, his expression one of +even greater fear than that of the defenders themselves. He felt that, +in spite of the part he had played in bringing the strike about, his +position was no better than these others. If anything happened to them +all help for him was gone. Besides, he, too, understood that these men +outside were no longer strikers, but wolves, whiskey-soaked savages +beyond the control of any strike-leader. + +He received no reply. The scraping went on. Something was being thrust +into the gaping crack which stood an inch wide beneath the door. +Suddenly the noise ceased, followed by a long pause. Then, in the +strong draught under the door, a puff of oil smoke belched into the +room, and its nauseous reek set Chepstow coughing. His cough brought an +answering peal of brutal laughter from beyond the door, and some one +shouted to his comrades-- + +"Bully fer you, bo'! Draw 'em! Draw 'em like badgers. Smoke 'em out +like gophers." + +The pungent smoke belched into the room, and the man darted from the +door. + +"Quick!" he cried. "Wet rags! A blanket!" + +Betty sprang to his assistance. The room was rapidly filling with +smoke, which stung their eyes and set them choking. A blanket was +snatched off the wounded strike-leader, but the process of saturating +it was slow. They had only one barrel of water, and dared not waste it +by plunging the blanket into it. So they were forced to resort to the +use of a dipper. At last it was ready and the man crushed it down at +the foot of the door, and stamped it tight with his foot. + +But it had taken too much time to set in place. The room was dense with +a fog of smoke that set eyes streaming and throats gasping. In reckless +despair the man sprang at one of the windows and began to tear down the +carefully-built barricade. + +But now the cunning of the besiegers was displayed. As the last of the +barricade was removed Chepstow discovered that the cotton covering of +the window was smouldering. He tore it out to let in the fresh air, but +only to release a pile of smouldering oil rags, which had been placed +on the thickness of the wall, and set it tumbling into the room. The +window was barricaded on the outside! + +The smoke became unbearable now, and the two prisoners set to work to +trample the smouldering rags out. It was while they were thus occupied +that a fresh disaster occurred. There was a terrific clatter at the +stove, and a cloud of smoke and soot practically put the place in +darkness. Nor did it need the sound of scrambling feet on the roof to +tell those below what had happened. The strikers, by removing the +topmost joint of the pipe, where it protruded through the roof, had +been able, by the aid of a long stick, to dislodge the rest of the pipe +and send it crashing to the floor. It was a master-stroke of diabolical +cunning, for now, added to the smoke and soot, the sulphurous fumes of +the blazing stove rendered the conditions of the room beyond further +endurance. + +Half blinded and gasping Chepstow sprang at the table and seized a +rifle. Betty had dropped into a chair choking. The strike-leader lay +moaning, trying to shut out the smoke with his one remaining blanket. + +"Come on, Betty," shouted the man, in a frenzy of rage. "You've got +your revolver. I'm going to open the door, and may God Almighty have +mercy on the soul of the man who tries to stop us!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +DAVE--THE MAN + + +Dave's buckboard swept up the slope of the last valley. It reached the +dead level of the old travoy trail, which passed in front of Mason's +dugout on its way to the lumber camp. He was looking ahead for signs +which he feared to discover; he wanted the reason of the smoke he had +seen from afar off. But now a perfect screen of towering pine forest +lined the way, and all that lay beyond was hidden from his anxious eyes. + +He flogged his horses faster. The perfect mountain calm was unbroken; +even the speeding horses and the rattle of his buckboard were powerless +to disturb that stupendous quiet. It was a mere circumstance in a world +too vast to take color from a detail so insignificant. It was that +wondrous peace, that thrilling silence that aggravated his fears. His +apprehension grew with each passing moment, and, though he made no +display, his clutch upon the reins, the sharpness with which he plied +his whip, the very immobility of his face, all told their tale of +feelings strung to a high pitch. + +Mason was standing directly behind him in the carryall. He steadied +himself with a grip upon the back of the driving-seat. Beside him the +wretched Truscott was sitting on the jolting slats of the body of the +vehicle, mercilessly thrown about by the bumping over the broken trail. +Mason, too, was staring out ahead. + +"Seems quiet enough," he murmured, half to himself. + +Dave caught at his words. + +"That's how it seems," he said, in a tone of doubt. + +"It's less than half a mile now," Mason went on a moment later. "We're +coming to the big bend." + +Dave nodded. His whip fell across his horses' quarters. "Best get +ready," he said significantly. Then he laughed mirthlessly and tried to +excuse himself. "I don't guess there'll be a heap of trouble, though." + +"No." + +Mason's reply carried no conviction. Both men were in doubt. Neither +knew what to expect. Neither knew in what way to prepare for the +meeting that was now so near. + +Now the trail began to swing out to the right. It was the beginning of +the big bend. The walls of forest about them receded slightly, opening +out where logs had been felled beside the trail in years past. The +middle of the curve was a small clearing. Then, further on, as it +inclined again to the left, it narrowed down to the bare breadth of the +trail. + +"Just beyond this----" + +Mason broke off. His words were cut short by a loud shout just ahead of +them. It was a shout of triumph and gleeful enjoyment. Dave's whip fell +again, and the horses laid on to their traces. From that moment to the +moment when the horses were almost flung upon their haunches by the +sudden jolt with which Dave pulled them up was a matter of seconds +only. He was out of the buckboard, too, having flung the reins to +Mason, and was standing facing a small group of a dozen men whom it was +almost impossible to recognize as lumberjacks. In truth, there were +only three of them who were, the others were some of those Mason had +been forced to engage in his extremity. + +At the sight of Dave's enormous figure a cry broke from the crowd. Then +they looked at the buckboard with its panting horses, and Mason +standing in the carryall, one hand on the reins and one resting on the +revolver on his hip. Their cry died out. But as it did so another broke +from their midst. It was Betty's voice, and her uncle's. There was a +scuffle and a rush. Gripping the girl by the arm Tom Chepstow burst +from their midst and ran to Dave's side, dragging Betty with him. + +"Thank God!" he cried. + +But there was no answering joy from Dave. He scarcely even seemed to +see them. A livid, frozen rage glared out of his eyes. His face was +terrible to behold. He moved forward. His gait was cat-like, his head +was thrust forward, it was almost as if he tiptoed and was about to +spring upon the mob. As he came within a yard of the foremost of the +men he halted, and one great arm shot out with its fist clenching. + +"Back!" he roared; "back to your camp, every man of you! Back, you +cowardly hounds!" + +There were twelve of them; fierce, savage, half-drunken men. They cared +for no one, they feared no one. They were ready to follow whithersoever +their passions led them. There was not a man among them that would not +fight with the last breath in his body. Yet they hesitated at the sound +of that voice. They almost shrank before that passion-lit face. The +man's enormous stature was not without awe for them. And in that moment +of hesitation the battle was won for Dave. Chepstow's repeating-rifle +was at his shoulder, and Mason's revolver had been whipped out of its +holster and was held covering them. + +Suddenly there was a movement in the crowd, somewhere behind. If Dave +saw it he gave no sign. But Mason saw it, and, sharply incisive, his +voice rang out-- + +"The first man that moves this way I'll shoot him like a dog!" + +Instantly every eye among the strikers was turned upon the two men with +their ready weapons, and to a man they understood that the game was up. + +"Get out! Get out--quick!" Dave's great voice split the air with +another deep roar. And the retreat began on the instant with those in +the rear. Some one started to run, and in a moment the rest had joined +in a rush for the camp, vanishing into the forest like a pack of timber +wolves, flinging back fierce, vengeful glances over their shoulders at +those who had so easily routed them. + +No one stirred till the last man had disappeared. Then Dave turned. + +"Quick!" he cried, in an utterly changed voice, "get into the +buckboard!" + +But Betty turned to him in a half-hysterical condition. + +"Oh, Dave, Dave!" she cried helplessly. + +But Dave was just now a man whom none of them had ever seen before. He +had words for no one--not even for Betty. He suddenly caught her in his +arms and lifted her bodily into the buckboard. He scrambled in after +her, while Chepstow jumped up behind. In a moment, it seemed, they were +racing headlong for the camp. + + * * * * * + +The camp was in a ruinous condition. The destructive demon in men +temporarily demented was abroad and his ruthless hand had fallen +heavily. The whole atmosphere suggested the red tide of anarchy. The +charred remains of the sutler's store was the centre of a net of ruin +spread out in every direction, and from this radiated the wreckage of +at least a dozen shanties, which had, like the store, been burned to +the ground. + +In the circumstances it would be impossible to guess at the reasons for +such destruction: maybe it was the result of carelessness, maybe a +mischievous delight in sweeping away that which reminded these men of +their obligations to their employer, maybe it was merely a consequence +of the settlement of their own drunken feuds. Whatever the cause, the +hideous effect of the strike was apparent in every direction. + +In the centre of the clearing was a great gathering of the lumbermen. +Their seared faces expressed every variety of mental attitude, from +fierce jocularity down to the blackest hatred of interference from +those whose authority had become anathema to them. + +They were gathered at the call of those who had fled from the dugout, +spurred to a defense of what they believed to be their rights by a +hurried, garbled account of the summary treatment just meted out to +them. They were ready for more than the mere assertion of their +demands. They were ready to enforce them, they were ready for any +mischief which the circumstances prompted. + +It was a deadly array. Many were sober, many were sobering, many were +still drunk. The latter were those whose cunning had prompted them, at +the outset of the strike, to secrete a sufficient supply of liquor from +their fellows. And the majority of these were not the real +lumber-jacks, those great simple children of the forest, but the +riffraff that had drifted into the camp, or had been sent thither by +those who promoted the strike. The real lumber-jacks were more or less +incapable of such foresight and cunning. They were slow-thinking +creatures of vast muscle, only swift and keen as the axes they used +when engaged in the work which was theirs. + +Through the rank animal growth of their bodies their minds had remained +too stunted to display the low cunning of the scallywags whose +unscrupulous wits alone must supply their idle bodies with a +livelihood. But simple as babes, simple and silly as sheep, and as +dependent upon their shepherd, as these men were, they were at all +times dangerous, the more dangerous for their very simplicity. Just +now, with their unthinking brains sick with the poison of labor's +impossible argument, and the execrable liquor of the camp, they were a +hundred times more deadly. + +Men had come in for the orgy from all the outlying camps. They had been +carefully shepherded by those whose business it was to make the strike +successful. Discontent had been preached into every ear, and the seed +had fallen upon fruitful, virgin soil. Thus it was that a great +concourse had foregathered now. + +There was an atmosphere of restrained excitement abroad among them. For +them the news of Dave's arrival had tremendous possibilities. A babel +of harsh voices debated the situation in loud tones, each man forcing +home his argument with a mighty power of lung, a never-failing method +of supporting doubtful argument. The general attitude was threatening, +yet it hardly seemed to be unanimous. There was too much argument. +There seemed to be an undercurrent of uncertainty with no single, +capable voice to check or guide it. + +As the moments sped the crowd became more and more threatening, but +whether against the master of the mills, or whether the result of hot +blood and hot words, it would have been difficult to say. Then, just as +the climax seemed to be approaching, a magical change swept over the +throng. It was wrought by the sudden appearance of Dave's buckboard, +which seemed to leap upon the scene from the depth of the forest. And +as it came into view a hoarse, fierce shout went up. Then, in a moment, +an expectant hush fell. + +Dave's eyes were fixed upon the crowd before him. He gave no sign. His +face, like a mask, was cold, hard, unyielding. No word was spoken by +those in the buckboard. Every one, with nerves straining and pulses +throbbing, was waiting for what was to happen; every one except the +prisoner, Truscott. + +The master of the mills read the meaning of what he beheld with the +sureness of a man bred to the calling of these men. He knew. And +knowing, he had little blame for them. How could it be otherwise with +these unthinking souls? The blame must lie elsewhere. But his sympathy +left his determination unaltered. He knew, no one better, that here the +iron heel alone could prevail, and for the time his heel was shod for +the purpose. + +He drew near. Some one shouted a furious epithet at him, and the cry +was taken up by others. The horses shied. He swung them back with a +heavy hand, and forced them to face the crowd, his whip falling +viciously at the same time. But, for a moment, his face relaxed its +cold expression. His quick ears had detected a lack of unanimity in the +execration. Suddenly he pulled the horses up. He passed the reins to +Mason and leaped to the ground. + +It was a stirring moment. The mob advanced, but the movement seemed +almost reluctant. It was not the rush of blind fury one might have +expected, but rather as though it were due to pressure from behind by +those under cover of their comrades in front. + +Dave moved on to meet them, and those in the buckboard remained deathly +still. Mason was the first to move. He had just become aware that Dave +had left his revolver on the seat of the vehicle. Instantly he lifted +the reins and walked the horses closer to the crowd. + +"He's unarmed," he said, in explanation to the parson. + +Chepstow nodded. He moved his repeating-rifle to a handier position. +Betty looked up. + +"He left that gun purposely," she said. "I saw him." + +Her face was ghastly pale, but a light shone in her eyes which nobody +could have failed to interpret. Mason saw it and no longer hesitated. + +"Will you take these reins?" he said. "And--give me your revolver." + +The girl understood and obeyed in silence. + +"I think there'll be trouble," Mason went on a moment later, as he saw +Dave halt within a few yards of the front rank of the strikers. + +He watched the men close about his chief in a semicircle, but the +buckboard in rear always held open a road for retreat. Now the crowd +pressed up from behind. The semicircle became dense. Those in the +buckboard saw that many of the men were carrying the tools of their +calling, prominent among them being the deadly peavey, than which, in +case of trouble, no weapon could be more dangerous at close quarters. + +As he halted Dave surveyed the sea of rough, hard faces glowering upon +him. He heard the mutterings. He saw the great bared arms and the +knotty hands grasping the hafts of their tools. He saw all this and +understood, but the sight in no way disturbed him. His great body was +erect, his cold eyes unwavering. It was the unconscious pose of a man +who feels the power to control within him. + +"Well?" he inquired, with an easy drawl. + +Instantly there was silence everywhere. It was the critical moment. It +was the moment when, before all things, he must convince these lawless +creatures of his power, his reserve of commanding force. + +"Well?" he demanded again. "Where's your leader? Where's the gopher +running this layout? I've come right along to talk to you boys to see +if we can't straighten this trouble out. Where's your leader, the man +who was hired to make you think I wasn't treating you right; where is +he? Speak up, boys, I can't rightly hear all you're saying. I want to +parley with your leaders." + +Mason listening to the great voice of the lumberman chuckled inaudibly. +He realized something of Dave's method, and the shrewdness of it. + +The mutterings had begun afresh. Some of the front rank men drew +nearer. Dave did not move. He wanted an answer. He wanted an indication +of their actual mood. Somebody laughed in the crowd. It was promptly +shouted down. It was the indication the master of the mills sought. +They wanted to hear what he had to say. He allowed the ghost of a smile +to play round the corners of his stern mouth for a moment. But his +attitude remained uncompromising. His back stiffened, his great +shoulders squared, he stood out a giant amongst those giants of the +forest. + +"Where's your man?" he cried, in a voice that could be heard by +everybody. "Is he backing down? That's not like a lumber-jack. P'r'aps +he's not a lumber-jack. P'r'aps he's got no clear argument I can't +answer. P'r'aps he hasn't got the grit to get out in the open and talk +straight as man to man. Well, let it go at that. Guess you'd best set +one of you up as spokesman. I've got all the time you need to listen." + +"Your blasted skunk of a foreman shot him down!" cried a voice in the +crowd, and it was supported by ominous murmurs from the rest. + +"By God, and Mason was right!" cried Dave, in a voice so fierce that it +promptly silenced the murmurs. His dilating eyes rested on several +familiar faces. The faces of men who had worked for him for years, men +whose hair was graying in the service of the woods. He also flashed his +lightning glance upon faces unfamiliar, strangers to his craft. "By +God, he was right!" he repeated, as though to force the violence of his +opinion upon them. "I could have done it myself. And why? Because he +has come here and told you you are badly treated. He's told you the +tale that the profits of this work of yours belong to you. He's told +you I am an oppressor, who lives by the sweat of your labors. He tells +you this because he is paid to tell you. Because he is paid by those +who wish to ruin my mills, and put me out of business, and so rob you +all of the living I have made it possible for you to earn. You refuse +to work at his bidding; what is the result? My mill is closed down. I +am ruined. These forests are my right to cut. There is no more cutting +to be done. You starve. Yes, you starve like wolves in winter. You'll +say you can get work elsewhere. Go and get it, and you'll starve till +you get it at half the wage I pay you. I am telling you what is right. +I am talking to you with the knowledge of my own ruin staring me in the +face. You have been told you can squeeze me, you can squeeze a fraction +more of pay out of me. But you can't, not one cent, any man of you; and +if you go to work again to keep our ship afloat you'll have to work +harder than ever before--for the same pay. Now pass up your spokesman, +and I'll talk to him. I can't bellow for all the world to hear." + +It was a daring beginning, so daring that those in the buckboard gasped +in amazement. But Dave knew his men, or, at least, he knew the real +lumber-jack. Straight, biting talk must serve him, or nothing would. + +Now followed a buzz of excited talk. There were those among the crowd +who from the beginning had had doubts, and to these Dave's words +appealed. He had voiced something of what they had hazily thought. +Others there were who were furious at his biting words. Others again, +and these were not real lumber-jacks, who were for turning upon him the +savage brutality of their drink-soaked brains. + +An altercation arose. It was the dispute of factions suddenly inflamed. +It was somewhere in rear of the crowd. Those in front turned to learn +the cause. Dave watched and listened. He understood. It was the result +of his demand for a spokesman. Opinions were divided, and a dozen +different men were urged forward. He knew he must check the dispute. +Suddenly his voice rang out above the din. + +"It's no use snarling about it like a lot of coyotes," he roared. "Pass +them all through, and I'll listen to 'em all. Now, boys, pass 'em +through peaceably." + +One of the men in front of him supported him. + +"Aye, aye," he shouted. "That's fair, boys, bring 'em along. The +boss'll talk 'em straight." + +The man beside him hit him sharply in the ribs, and the +broad-shouldered "jack" swung round. + +"Ther' ain't no 'boss' to this layout, Peter," objected the man who had +dealt the blow. "Yonder feller ain't no better'n us." + +The man scowled threateningly as he spoke. He was an enormous brute +with a sallow, ill-tempered face, and black hair. Dave heard the words +and his eyes surveyed him closely. He saw at a glance there was nothing +of the lumberman about him. He set him down at once as a French +Canadian bully, probably one of the men instrumental in the strike. + +However, his attention was now drawn to the commotion caused by six of +the lumbermen being pushed to the front as spokesmen. They joined the +front rank, and stood sheepishly waiting for their employer. Custom and +habit were strong upon them, and a certain awe of the master of the +mills affected them. + +"Now we'll get doing," Dave said, noting with satisfaction that four of +the six were old hands who had worked beside him in his early days. +"Well, boys, let's have it. What's your trouble? Give us the whole +story." + +But as spokesmen these fellows were not brilliant. They hesitated, and, +finally, with something approaching a shamefaced grin, one of them +spoke up. + +"It's--it's jest wages, boss." + +"Leave it at 'wages,' Bob!" shouted a voice at the back of the crowd. + +"Yes," snarled the sallow-faced giant near by. "We're jest man to man. +Ther' ain't no 'bosses' around." + +"Hah!" Dave breathed the ejaculation. Then he turned his eyes, steely +hard, upon the last speaker, and his words came in an unmistakable +tone. "It seems there are men here who aren't satisfied with their +spokesmen. Maybe they'll speak out good and plenty, instead of +interrupting." + +His challenge seemed to appeal to the original spokesman, for he +laughed roughly. + +"Say, boss," he cried, "he don't cut no ice, anyways. He's jest a bum +roadmaker. He ain't bin in camp more'n six weeks. We don't pay no +'tention to him. Y'see, boss," he went on, emphasizing the last word +purposely, "it's jest wages. We're workin' a sight longer hours than is +right, an' we ain't gettin' nuthin' extry 'cep' the rise you give us +three months back. Wal, we're wantin' more. That's how." + +He finished up his clumsy speech with evident relief, and mopped his +forehead with his ham-like hand. + +"And since when, Bob Nicholson, have you come to this conclusion?" +demanded Dave, with evident kindliness. + +His tone produced instant effect upon the man. He became easier at +once, and his manner changed to one of distinct friendliness. + +"Wal, boss, I can't rightly say jest when, fer sure. Guess it must ha' +bin when that orator-feller got around----" + +"Shut up!" roared some one in the crowd, and the demand was followed up +by distinct cursing in several directions. The sallow-faced roadmaker +seized his opportunity. + +"It's wages we want an' wages we're goin' to git!" he shouted so that +the crowd could hear. "You're sweatin' us. That's wot you're doin', +sweatin' us, to make your pile a sight bigger. We're honest men up +here; we ain't skunks what wants wot isn't our lawful rights. Ef you're +yearnin' fer extry work you got to pay fer it. Wot say, boys?" + +"Aye! That's it. Extry wages," cried a number of voices in the +background. But again the chorus was not unanimous. There were those, +too, in the front whose scowling faces, turned on the speaker, showed +their resentment at this interference by a man they did not recognize +as a lumber-jack. + +Dave seized his opportunity. + +"You're wanting extra wages for overtime," he cried, in a voice that +carried like a steam siren. "Well, why didn't you ask for them? Why did +you go out on strike first, and then ask? Why? I'll tell you why. I'll +tell you why you chose this damned gopher racket instead of acting like +the honest men you boast yourselves to be. I can tell you why you +wanted to lock up your camp-boss, and so prevent your wishes reaching +me. I can tell you why you had men on the road between here and Malkern +to stop letters going through. I can tell you why you honest men set +fire to the store here, and stole all the liquor and goods in it. I can +tell you why you did these things. Because you've just listened like +silly sheep to the skunks who've come along since the fever broke out. +Because you've listened to the men who've set out to ruin us both, you +and me. Because you've listened to these scallywags, who aren't +lumbermen, who've come among you. They're not 'jacks' and they don't +understand the work, but they've been drawing the same wages as you, +and they're trying to rob you of your living, they're trying to take +your jobs from you and leave you nothing. That's why you've done these +things, you boys who've worked with me for years and years, and had all +you needed. Are you going to let 'em rob you? They _are_ robbing you, +for, I swear before God, my mills are closed down, and they'll remain +closed, and every one of you can get out and look for new work unless +you turn to at once." + +A murmur again arose as he finished speaking, but this time there was a +note of alarm in it, a note of anger that was not against their +employer. Faces looked puzzled, and ended by frowning into the faces of +neighbors. Dave understood the effect he had made. He was waiting for a +bigger effect. He was fighting for something that was dearer to him +than life, and all his courage and resource were out to the limit. He +glanced at the sallow-faced giant. Their eyes met, and in his was a +fierce challenge. He drew the fellow as easily as any expert swordsman. +The man had been shrewd enough to detect the change in his comrades, +and he promptly hurled himself into the fray to try and recover the +lost ground. He stepped forward, towering over his fellows. He meant +mischief. + +"See, mates," he shouted, trying to put a jeer in his angry voice, +"look at 'im! He's come here to call us a pack o' skunks an' gophers. +Him wot's makin' thousands o' dollars a day out of us. He's come here +to kick us like a lot o' lousy curs. His own man shot up our leader, +him as was trying to fit things right fer us. I tell you it was +murder--bloody murder! We're dirt to him. He can kick us--shoot us up. +We're dogs--lousy yeller dogs--we are. You'll listen to his slobbery +talk an' you'll go to work--and he'll cut your wages lower, so he can +make thousan's more out o' you." Then he suddenly swung round on Dave +with a fierce oath. "God blast you, it's wages we want--d'ye +hear--wages! An' we're goin' to have 'em! You ain't goin' to grind us +no longer, mister! You're goin' to sign a 'greement fer a rise o' wages +of a quarter all round. That's wot you're goin' to do!" + +Dave was watching, watching. His opportunity was coming. + +"I came to talk to honest 'jacks,'" he said icily, "not to blacklegs. +I'll trouble you to get right back into the crowd, and hide your ugly +head, and keep your foul tongue quiet. The boys have got their +spokesmen." + +His voice was sharp, but the man failed to apprehend the danger that +lay behind it. He was a bigger man than Dave, and, maybe, he thought to +cow him. Perhaps he didn't realize that the master of the mills was now +fighting for his existence. + +There was an instant's pause, and Dave took a step toward him. + +"Get back!" he roared. + +His furious demand precipitated things, as he intended it should. Like +lightning the giant whipped out a gun. + +"I'll show you!" he cried. + +There was a sharp report. But before he could pull the trigger a second +time Dave's right fist shot out, and a smashing blow on the chin felled +him to the ground like a pole-axed ox. + +As the man fell Dave turned again to the strikers, and no one noticed +that his left arm was hanging helpless at his side. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE END OF THE STRIKE + + +When the master of the mills faced the men again he hardly knew what to +expect. He could not be sure how they would view his action, or what +attitude they would adopt. He had considered well before provoking the +sallow-faced giant, he had measured him up carefully; the thing had +been premeditated. He knew the influence of physical force upon these +men. The question was, had he used it at the right moment? He thought +he had; he understood lumbermen, but there were more than lumbermen +here, and he knew that it was this element of outsiders with whom he +was really contending. + +The fallen man's pistol was on the ground at his feet. He put a foot +upon it; then, glancing swiftly at the faces before him, he became +aware of a silence, utter, complete, reigning everywhere. There was +astonishment, even something of awe in many of the faces; in others +doubt mingled with a scowling displeasure. The thing had happened so +suddenly. The firing of the shot had startled them unpleasantly, and +they were still looking for the result of it. On this point they had no +satisfaction. Only Dave knew--he had reason to. The arm hanging limply +at his side, and the throb of pain at his shoulder left him in no +doubt. But he had no intention of imparting his knowledge to any one +else yet. He had not finished the fight which must justify his +existence as the owner of the mills. + +The effect of his encounter was not an unpleasant one on the majority +of the men. The use of a fist in the face of a gun was stupendous, even +to them. Many of them reveled in the outsider's downfall, and +contemplated the grit of their employer with satisfaction. But there +were others not so easily swayed. Amongst these were the man's own +comrades, men who, like himself, were not real lumbermen, but agitators +who had received payment to agitate. Besides these there were those +unstable creatures, always to be found in such a community, who had no +very definite opinions of their own, but looked for the lead of the +majority, ready to side with those who offered the strongest support. + +All this was very evident in that moment of silence, but the moment +passed so quickly that it was impossible to say how far Dave's action +had really served him. Suddenly a murmur started. In a few seconds it +had risen to a shout. It started with the fallen giant's friends. There +was a rush in the crowd, an ominous swaying, as of a struggle going on +in its midst. Some one put up a vicious cry that lifted clear above the +general din. + +"Lynch him! Lynch him!" + +The cry was taken up by the rest of the makeshifts and some of the +doubters. Then came the sudden but inevitable awakening of the slow, +fierce brains of the real men of the woods. The awakening brought with +it not so much a desire to champion their employer, as a resentment +that these men they regarded as scallywags should attempt to take +initiative in their concerns; it was the rousing of the latent hatred +which ever exists in the heart of the legitimate tradesman for the +interloper. It caught them in a whirlwind of passion. Their blood rose. +All other considerations were forgotten, it mattered nothing the object +of that mutiny, all thought of wages, all thought of wrongs between +themselves and their employer were banished from their minds. They +hated nothing so badly as these men with whom they had worked in +apparent harmony. + +It was at this psychological moment that the final fillip was given. It +came from a direction that none of the crowd realized. It came from one +who knew the woodsman down to his very core, who had watched every +passing mood of the crowd during the whole scene with the intentness of +one who only waits his opportunity. It was Bob Mason in the buckboard. + +"Down with the blacklegs! Down with the dirty 'scabs'!" he shouted. + +In a moment the battle was raging. There was a wild rush of men, and +their steel implements were raised aloft. "Down with the 'scabs'!" The +cry echoed and reëchoed in every direction, taken up by every true +lumberman. A tumult of shouting and cursing roared everywhere. The +crowd broke. It spread out. Groups of struggling combatants were dotted +about till the sight suggested nothing so much as a massacre. It was a +fight of brutal savagery that would stop short only at actual +slaughter. It was the safety-valve for the accumulated spleen of a +week's hard drinking. It was the only way to steady the shaken, +drink-soaked nerves and restore the dull brains to the dead level of a +desire to return to work and order. + +Fortunately it was a short-lived battle too. The lumber-jacks were the +masters from the outset. They were better men, they were harder, they +had more sheer "grit." Then, too, they were in the majority. The +"scabs" began to seek refuge in flight, but not before they had +received a chastisement that would remain a sore memory for many days +to come. Those who went down in the fight got the iron-shod boots of +their adversaries in their ribs, till, in desperation, they scrambled +to their feet and took their punishment like men. But the victory was +too easy for the lumber-jacks' rage to last. Like the wayward, +big-hearted children of nature they were, their fury passed as quickly +as it had stirred. The terror-stricken flight of those upon whom their +rage had turned inspired in them a sort of fiendish amusement, and in +this was perhaps the saving of a terrible tragedy. As it was, a few +broken limbs, a liberal tally of wounds and bruises were the harvest of +that battle. That, and the final clearing out of the element of +discontent. It was victory for the master of the mills. + +In less than ten minutes the victors were straggling back from their +pursuit of a routed foe. Dave had not moved. He was still standing +beside the fallen giant, who was now recovering consciousness from the +knock-out blow he had received. They came up in small bands, laughing +and recounting episodes of the fight. They were in the saving mood for +their employer. All thoughts of a further strike had passed out of +their simple heads. They came back to Dave, like sheep, who, after a +wild stampede, have suddenly refound their shepherd, and to him they +looked for guidance. And Dave was there for the purpose. He called +their attention and addressed them. + +"Now, boys," he said cheerfully, "you've got nicely rid of that scum, +and I'm going to talk to you. We understand each other. We've worked +too long together for it to be otherwise. But we don't understand those +others who're not lumbermen. Say, maybe you can't all hear me; my voice +isn't getting stronger, so I'll just call up that buckboard and stand +on it, and talk from there." + +Amidst a murmur of approval the buckboard was drawn up, and not without +tremendous pain Dave scrambled up into the driving-seat. Then it was +seen by both lumbermen and those in the buckboard that he had left a +considerable pool of blood where he had been standing. + +Betty, with horror in her eyes, turned to him. + +"What is it?" she began. But he checked her with a look, and turned at +once to the men. + +"I'm first going to tell you about this strike, boys," he said. "After +that we'll get to business, and I guess it won't be my fault if we +don't figger things out right. Here, do you see this fellow sitting +here? Maybe some of you'll recognize him?" He pointed at Jim Truscott +sitting in the carryall. His expression was surly, defiant. But somehow +he avoided the faces in front of him. "I'm going to tell you about him. +This is the man who organized the strike. He found the money and the +men to do the dirty work. He did it because he hates me and wants to +ruin me. He came to you with plausible tales of oppression and so +forth. He cared nothing for you, but he hated me. I tell you frankly he +did this thing because he knew I was pushed to the last point to make +good my contract with the government, because he knew that to delay the +output of logs from this camp meant that I should go to smash. In doing +this he meant to carry you down with me. That's how much he cares for +your interests." A growl of anger punctuated his speech. But he +silenced them with a gesture and proceeded. His voice was getting +weaker, and a deadly pallor was stealing over his face. Chepstow, +watching him, was filled with anxiety. Betty's brown eyes clung to his +face with an expression of love, horror and pity in them that spoke far +louder than any words. Mason was simply calculating in his mind how +long Dave could keep up his present attitude. + +"Do you get my meaning, boys?" he went on. "It's this, if we don't get +this work through before winter I'm broke--broke to my last dollar. And +you'll be out of a billet--every mother's son of you--with the winter +staring you in the face." + +He paused and took a deep breath. Betty even thought she saw him sway. +The men kept an intense silence. + +"Well?" he went on a moment later, pulling himself together with an +evident effort. "I'm just here to talk straight business, and that's +what you're going to listen to. First, I'll tell you this fellow's +going to get his right medicine through me in the proper manner. Then, +second and last, I want to give you a plain understanding of things +between ourselves. There's going to be no rise in wages. I just can't +do it. That's all. But I'm going to give each man in my camp a big +bonus, a nice fat wad of money with which to paint any particular town +he favors red, when the work's done. That's to be extra, above his +wages. And the whole lot of you shall work for me next season on a +guarantee. But from now to the late fall you're going to work, boys, +you're going to work as if the devil himself was driving you. We've got +time to make up, and shortage besides, and you've got to make it up. I +don't want any slackers. Men who have any doubts can get right out. +You've got to work as you never worked in your lives before. Now, boys, +give us your word. Is it work or----" + +Dave got no further. A shout--hearty, enthusiastic--went up from the +crowd. It meant work, and he was satisfied. + +The next few minutes were passed in a scene of the wildest excitement. +The men closed round the buckboard, and struggled with each other to +grip the big man's hand. And Dave, faint and weary as he was, knew them +too well to reject their friendly overtures. Besides, they were, as he +said, like himself, men of the woods, and he was full of a great +sympathy and friendliness for them. At last, however, he turned to +Chepstow. + +"Drive back to the dugout, Tom," he said. "Things are getting misty. I +think--I'm--done." + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +IN THE DUGOUT + + +Three arduous and anxious days followed the ending of the strike, and +each of the occupants of Mason's dugout felt the strain of them in his +or her own particular way. Next to the strike itself, Dave's wound was +the most serious consideration. He was the leader, the rudder of his +ship; his was the controlling brain; and he was a most exasperating +patient. His wound was bad enough, though not dangerous. It would be +weeks before the use of his left arm was restored to him; but he had a +way of forgetting this, of forgetting that he had lost a great quantity +of blood, until weakness prostrated him and roused him to a peevish +perversity. + +Betty was his self-appointed nurse. Tom Chepstow might examine his +wound and consider his condition, but it was Betty who dressed his +wound, Betty who prepared his food and ministered to his lightest +needs. From the moment of his return to the dugout she took charge of +him. She consulted no one, she asked for no help. For the time, at +least, he was her possession, he was hers to lavish all the fulness of +her great love upon, a love that had something almost maternal in its +wonderful protective instinct. + +Mason was busy with the work of reorganization. His was the practical +hand and head while Dave was on his sick-bed. From daylight to long +after dark he took no rest. Dave's counsel guided him to an extent, but +much had to be done without any consultation with the master of the +mills. Provisioning the camp was a problem not easily solved. It was +simple enough to order up food from Malkern, but there would be at +least a week's delay before its arrival. Finally, he surmounted this +difficulty, through the return of Lieberstein, who had fled to the +woods with his cash-box and a supply of provisions, at the first sign +of trouble. Now he had returned to save what he could from the wreck. +The Jew needed assistance to recover his looted property--what remained +of it. The overseer gave him that assistance, and at the same time +arranged that all provisions so recovered should be redistributed (at a +price) as rations to the men. Thus the delay in the arrival of supplies +from Malkern was tided over. But though he availed himself of this +means of getting over his difficulty he was fully determined to rid the +camp, at the earliest opportunity, of so treacherous a rascal as +Lieberstein. + +In two days the work of restoration was in full swing. The burned store +and shanties were run up with all a lumberman's rapidity and disregard +for finish. Time was the thing that mattered. And so wonderfully did +Mason drive and cajole his men, that on the third day the gangs once +more marched out into the woods. Once again the forests echoed with the +hiss of saw, the ringing clang of smiting axe, the crash of falling +trees, the harsh voices of the woodsmen, and the hundred and one sounds +of bustling activity which belong to a lumber camp in full work. + +That day was a pleasant one for the occupants of the dugout. It was a +wonderful work Mason had done. They all knew and appreciated his +devotion to his wounded employer, and though none spoke of it, whenever +he appeared in their midst their appreciation of him showed in their +manner. Betty was very gentle and kindly. She saw that he wanted for +nothing in the way of the comforts which the dugout could provide. + +Tom Chepstow was far too busy with his sick to give attention to +anything else. His hands were very full, and his was a task that showed +so little result. Dave, for the most part, saw everything that was +going on about him, and had a full estimate of all that was being done +in his interests by the devoted little band, and, absurdly enough, the +effect upon him was to stir him to greater irritability. + +It was evening, and the slanting sunlight shone in through one of the +windows. It was a narrow beam of light, but its effect was sufficiently +cheering. No dugout is a haven of brightness, and just now this one +needed all that could help to lift the shadow of sickness and disaster +that pervaded it. + +Betty was preparing supper, and Dave, lying on his stretcher, his vast +bulk only half concealed by the blanket thrown over him, was watching +the girl with eyes that fed hungrily upon the swift, graceful movements +of her pretty figure, the play of expression upon her sweet, sun-tanned +face, the intentness, the whole-hearted concentration in her steady, +serious eyes as she went about her work. + +Now and again she glanced over at his rough bed, but he seemed to be +asleep every time she turned in his direction. The result was an +additional care in her work. She made no noise lest she should waken +him. Presently she stooped and pushed a log into the fire-box of the +cook-stove. The cinders fell with a clatter, and she glanced round +apprehensively. Her movement was so sudden that Dave's wide-open eyes +had no time to shut. In a moment she was all contrition at her +clumsiness. + +"I'm so sorry, Dave," she exclaimed. "I did so hope you'd sleep on till +supper. It's half an hour yet." + +"I haven't been sleeping at all." + +"Why, I----" + +He smiled and shook his head, and his smile delighted the girl. It was +the first she had seen in him since his arrival in the camp. His +impatience at being kept to his bed was perhaps dying out. She had +always heard that the most active and impatient always became +reconciled to bed in the end. + +"Yes, I did it on purpose," Dave said, still smiling. "You see I wanted +to think. You'd have talked if I hadn't. I----" + +"Oh, Dave!" + +Betty's reproach had something very like resentment in it. She turned +abruptly to the boiler of stew and tasted its contents, while the man +chuckled softly. + +But she turned round on him again almost immediately. + +"Why are you laughing?" she demanded quickly. + +But he did not seem inclined to enlighten her. + +"Half an hour to supper?" he said musingly. "Tom'll be in directly--and +Mason." + +Betty was still looking at him with her cooking spoon poised as it had +been when she tasted the stew. + +"Yes," she said, "they'll be in directly. I've only just got to make +the tea." She dropped the spoon upon the table and replaced the lid of +the boiler. Then she came over to his bedside. "What did you mean +saying I should have talked?" she asked, only now there was a smiling +response to the smile still lurking in the gray depths of the man's +eyes. Dave drew a long sigh of resignation. + +"Well, y'see, Betty, if I'd laid here with my eyes open, staring about +the room, at you, at the roof, at the window for a whole heap of time, +you'd have said to yourself, 'Dave's suffering sure. He can't sleep. +He's miserable, unhappy.' You'd have said all those things, and with +all your kind little heart, you'd have set to work to cheer me up--same +as you'd no doubt have done for that strike-leader fellow you shipped +over to the sick camp to make room for me. Well, I just didn't want +that kind of cheering. I was thinking--thinking mighty hard--figgering +how best to make a broken-winged--er--owl fly without waiting for the +wing to mend. Y'see, thinking's mostly all I can do just now, and I +need to do such a mighty heap to keep me from getting mad and breaking +things. Y'see every hour, as I lie here, I kind of seem to be storing +up steam like a locomotive, and sometimes I feel--feel as if I was +going to bust. Being sick makes me hate things." His smiling protest +was yet perfectly serious. The girl understood. A moment later he went +on. "Half an hour to supper?" he said, as though suddenly reaching a +decision that had cost him much thought. "Well, just sit right down on +this stretcher, and I'm going to talk you tired. I'm sick, so you can't +refuse." + +The man's eyes still smiled, but the seriousness of his manner had +increased. Nor was Betty slow to observe it. She gladly seated herself +on the edge of the stretcher, and without the least embarrassment, +without the least self-consciousness, her soft eyes rested on the +rugged face of her patient. She was glad that he wanted to talk--and to +her, and she promptly took him up in his own tone. + +"Well, I've got to listen, I s'pose," she said, with a bright smile. +"As you say, you're sick. You might have added that I am your nurse." + +"Yes, I s'pose you are. It seems funny me needing a nurse. I s'pose I +do need one?" + +Betty nodded; her eyes were bright with an emotion that the man's words +had all unconsciously stirred. This man, so strong for himself, so +strong to help others--this man, on whom all who came into contact with +him leaned as upon some staunch, unfailing support--this man, so +invincible, so masterful, so eager in the battle where the odds were +against him, needed a nurse! A great pity, a great sympathy, went out +to him. Then a feeling of joy and gratitude at the thought that she was +his nurse succeeded it. She--she alone had the right to wait upon him. +But her face expressed none of these feelings when she replied. She +nodded gravely. + +"Yes, you need a nurse, you poor old Dave. Just for once you're going +to give others a chance of being to you what you have always been to +them. It breaks my heart to see you on a sickbed; but, Dave, you can +never know the joy, the happiness it gives me to be--your nurse. All my +life it has been the other way. All my life you have been my wise +counselor, my ever-ready loyal friend; now, in ever so small a degree, +you have to lean on me. Don't be perverse, Dave. Let me help you all I +can. Don't begrudge me so small a happiness. But you said you were +going to talk me tired, and I'm doing it all." She laughed lightly, but +it was a laugh to hide her real feelings. + +The man's uninjured arm reached out, and his great hand rested heavily +on one of hers. The pressure of his fingers, intended to be gentle, was +crushing. His action meant so much. No words could have thanked her +more truly than that hand pressure. Betty's face grew warm with +delight; and she turned her eyes toward the stove as though to see that +all was well with her cooking. + +"They're cutting to-day?" Dave's eyes were turned upon the window. The +sunlight was dying out now, and the gray dusk was stealing upon the +room. Betty understood the longing in the man's heart. + +"Yes, they're cutting." + +He stirred uneasily. + +"My shoulder is mending fast," he said a moment later. And the girl saw +his drift. + +She shook her head. + +"It's mending, but it won't be well--for weeks," she said. + +"It's got to be," he said, with tense emphasis, after a long pause. His +voice was low, but thrilling with the purpose of a mind that would not +bend to the weakness of his body. + +"You must be patient, Dave dear," the girl said, with the +persuasiveness of a mother for her child. + +For a moment the man's brows drew together in a frown and his lips +compressed. + +"Betty, Betty, I can't be patient," he suddenly burst out. "I know I'm +all wrong; but I can't be patient. You know what all this means. I'm +not going to attempt to tell you. You understand it all. I cannot lie +here a day longer. Even now I seem to hear the saws and axes at work. I +seem to see the men moving through the forests. I seem to hear Mason's +orders in the dead calm of the woods. With the first logs that are +travoyed to the river I must leave here and get back to Malkern. There +is work to be done, and from now on it will be man's work. It will be +more than a fight against time. It will be a battle against almost +incalculable odds, a battle in which all is against us. Betty, you are +my nurse, and as you hope to see me through with this broken shoulder, +so you must not attempt to alter my decision. I know you. You want to +see me fit and well. Before all things you desire that. You will +understand me when I say that, before all things, I must see the work +through. My bodily comfort must not be considered; and as my friend, as +my nurse, you must not hinder me. I must leave here to-night." + +The man had lifted himself to a half-sitting posture in his excitement, +and the girl watched him with anxious eyes. Now she reached out, and +one hand gently pressed him back to his pillow. As he had said, she +understood; and when she spoke, her words were the words he wished to +hear. They soothed him at once. + +"Yes, Dave. If you must return, it shall be as you say." + +He caught her hand and held it, crushing its small round flesh in the +hollow of his great palm. It was his gratitude, his gratitude for her +understanding and sympathy. His eyes met hers. And in that moment +something else stirred in him. The pressure tightened upon her +unresisting hand. The blood mounted to her head. It seemed to +intoxicate her. It was a moment of such ecstasy as she had dreamed of +in a vague sort of way--a moment when the pure woman spirit in her was +exalted to such a throne of spiritual light as is beyond the dream of +human imagination. + +In the man, too, was a change. There was something looking out of his +eyes which seemed to have banished his last thought of that lifelong +desire for the success of his labors, something which left him no room +for anything else, something which had for its inception all the human +passionate desire of his tremendous soul. His gray eyes glowed with a +living fire; they deepened; a flush of hot blood surged over his rugged +features, lighting them out of their plainness. His temples throbbed +visibly, and the vast sinews shivered with the fire that swept through +his body. + +In a daze Betty understood the change. Her heart leaped out to him, +yielding all her love, all that was hers to give. It cried aloud her +joy in the passion of those moments, but her lips were silent. She had +gazed into heaven for one brief instant, then her eyes dropped before a +vision she dared no longer to look upon. + +"Betty!" + +The man had lifted to his elbow again. A torrent of passionate words +rushed to his lips. But they remained unspoken. His heavy tongue was +incapable of giving them expression. He halted. That one feverish +exclamation was all that came, for his tongue clave in his mouth. But +in that one word was the avowal of such a love as rarely falls to the +lot of woman. It was the man's whole being that spoke. + +Betty's hand twisted from his grasp. She sprang to her feet and turned +to the door. + +"It's Bob Mason," she said, in a voice that was almost an awed whisper, +as she rushed to the cook-stove. + +The camp-boss strode heavily into the room. There was a light in his +eyes that usually would have gladdened the master of the mills. Now, +however, Dave's thoughts were far from the matters of the camp. + +"We've travoyed a hundred to the river bank!" the lumberman exclaimed +in a tone of triumph. "The work's begun!" + +It was Betty who answered him. Hers was the ready sympathy, the heart +to understand for others equally with herself. She turned with a smile +of welcome, of pride in his pride. + +"Bob, you're a gem!" she cried, holding out a hand of kindliness to him. + +And Dave's tardy words followed immediately with characteristic +sincerity. + +"Thanks, Bob," he said, in his deep tones. + +"It's all right, boss, they're working by flare to-night, an' they're +going on till ten o'clock." + +Dave nodded. His thoughts had once more turned into the smooth channel +of his affairs. Betty was serving out supper. + +A few moments later, weary and depressed, the parson came in for his +supper. His report was much the same as usual. Progress--all his +patients were progressing, but it was slow work, for the recent battle +had added to the number of his patients. + +There was very little talk until supper was over. Then it began as +Mason was preparing to depart again to his work. Dave spoke of his +decision without any preamble. + +"Say, folks, I'm going back to Malkern to-night," he said, with a +smiling glance of humor at his friends in anticipation of the storm of +protest he knew his announcement would bring upon himself. + +Mason was on his feet in an instant. + +"You can't do it, boss!" he exclaimed. "You----" + +"No you don't, Dave, old friend," broke in Chepstow, with a shake of +his head. "You'll stay right here till I say 'go.'" + +Dave's smile broadened, and his eyes sought Betty's. + +"Well, Betty?" he demanded. + +But Betty understood. + +"I have nothing to say," she replied quietly. + +Dave promptly turned again to the parson. His smile had gone again. + +"I've got to go, Tom," he said. "My work's done here, but it hasn't +begun yet in Malkern. Do you get my meaning? Until the cutting began up +here I was not needed down there. Now it is different. There is no one +in Malkern to head things. Dawson and Odd are good men, but they are +only my--foremen. It is imperative that I go, and--to-night." + +"But look here, boss, it can't be done," cried Mason, with a sort of +hopeless earnestness. "You aren't fit to move yet. The journey +down--you'd never stand it. Besides----" + +"Yes, besides, who's to take you down? How are you going?" Chepstow +broke in sharply. He meant to clinch the matter once for all. + +Dave's manner returned to the peevishness of his invalid state. + +"There's the buckboard," he said sharply. + +"Can you drive it?" demanded the parson with equal sharpness. "I can't +take you down. I can't leave the sick. Mason is needed here. Well?" + +"Don't worry. I'm driving myself," Dave said soberly. + +Chepstow sprang to his feet and waved his pipe in the air in his angry +impatience. + +"You're mad! You drive? Hang it, man, you couldn't drive a team of +fleas. Get up! Get up from that stretcher now, and see how much driving +you could do. See here, Dave, I absolutely forbid you to attempt any +such thing." + +Dave raised himself upon his elbow. His steady eyes had something of an +angry smile in them. + +"See here, Tom," he said, imitating the other's manner. "You can talk +till you're black in the face. I'm going down to-night. Mason's going +to hook the buckboard up for me and fetch Truscott along. I'll have to +take him down too. It's no use in your kicking, Tom," he went on, as +the parson opened his lips for further protest, "I'm going." He turned +again to Mason. "I'll need the buckboard and team in an hour. Guess +you'll see to it, boy. An' say, just set food for the two of us in it, +and half a sack of oats for the horses----" + +"One moment, Bob," interrupted Betty. She had been merely an interested +listener to the discussion, sitting at the far end of the supper table. +Now she came over to Dave's bedside. "You'd best put in food for +three." Then she looked down at Dave, smiling reassurance. From him she +turned to her uncle with a laughing glance. "Trust you men to argue and +wrangle over things that can be settled without the least difficulty. +Dave here must get down to Malkern. I understand the importance of his +presence there. Very well, he must go. Therefore it's only a question +how he can get there with the least possible danger to himself. It's +plain Bob can't go down. He must see the work through here. You, uncle, +must also stay. It is your duty to the sick. We cannot send any of the +men. They are all needed. Well, I'm going to drive him down. We'll make +him comfortable in the carryall, and Truscott can share the +driving-seat with me--carefully secured to prevent him getting away. +There you are. I will be responsible for Dave's welfare. You need not +be anxious." + +She turned with such a look of confident affection upon the sick man, +that, for the moment, no one had a word of protest to offer. It was +Dave who spoke first. He took her hand in his and nodded his great head +at her. + +"Thanks, little Betty," he said. "I shall be perfectly safe in your +charge." + +And his words were ample reward to the woman who loved him. It was his +acknowledgment of his dependence upon her. + +After that there was discussion, argument, protest for nearly half an +hour. But Dave and Betty held to their decision, and, at last, Tom +Chepstow gave way to them. Then it was that Mason went off to make +preparations. The parson went to assist him, and Betty and Dave were +once more alone. + +Betty let her uncle go and then lit the lamp. For some moments no word +was spoken between the sick man and his nurse. The girl cleared the +supper things and put a kettle on the stove. Then, while watching for +it to boil, she was about to pack up her few belongings for the +journey. But she changed her mind. Instead she came back to the table +and faced the stretcher on which the sick man was lying. + +"Dave," she said, in a low voice, "will you promise me something?" + +Dave turned his face toward her. + +"Anything," he said, in all seriousness. + +The girl waited. She was gauging the meaning of his reply. In anybody +else that answer could not have been taken seriously. In him it might +be different. + +"It's a big thing," she said doubtfully. + +"It don't matter, little girl, I just mean it." + +She came slowly over to his side. + +"Do you remember, I once got you to teach me the business of the mill? +I wanted to learn then so I could help some one. I want to help some +one now. But it's a different 'some one' this time. Do you understand? +I--I haven't forgotten a single thing I learned from you. Will you let +me help you? You cannot do all now. Not until your arm is better." She +dropped upon her knees at his bedside. "Dave, don't refuse me. You +shall just give your orders to me. I will see they are carried out. +We--you and I together--will run your mills to the success that I know +is going to be yours. Don't say no, Dave--dear." + +The man had turned to her. He was looking into the depths of the +fearless brown eyes before him. He had no intention of refusing her, +but he was looking, looking deep down into the beautiful, woman's heart +that was beating within her bosom. + +"I'll not refuse you, Betty. I only thank God Almighty for such a +little friend." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +AT MIDNIGHT + + +The silence of the night was unbroken. The valley of the Red Sand River +was wrapped in a peace such as it had never known since Dave had first +brought into it the restless activity of his American spirit. But it +was a depressing peace to the dwellers in the valley, for it portended +disaster. No word had reached them of the prospects at the mill, only a +vague rumor had spread of the doings at the lumber camp. Dave knew the +value of silence in such matters, and he had taken care to enforce +silence on all who were in a position to enlighten the minds which +thirsted for such information. + +The people of Malkern were waiting, waiting for something definite on +the part of the master of the mills. On him depended their future +movements. The mill was silent, even though the work of repairing had +been completed. But, as yet, they had not lost faith in the man who had +piloted them through all the shoals of early struggles to the haven of +comparative prosperity. However, the calm, the unwonted silence of the +valley depressed and worried them. They longed for the drone, however +monotonous, of the mill. They loved it, for it meant that their wheels +of life were well oiled, and that they were driving pleasantly along +their set track to the terminal of success. + +Yet while the village slept all was intense activity at the mills. The +men had been gathered together again, late that night, and the army of +workers was once more complete. The sawyers were at their saws, oiling +and fitting, and generally making ready for work. The engineers were at +their engines, the firemen at their furnaces, the lumber-jacks were at +the shoots, and in the yards. The boom was manned by men who sat around +smoking, peavey in hand, ready to handle the mightiest "ninety-footers" +that the mountain forests could send them. The checkers were at their +posts, and the tally boys were "shooting craps" at the foot of the +shoots. The mill, like a resting giant lying prone upon his back, was +bursting with a latent strength and activity that only needed the +controlling will to set in motion, to drive it to an effort such as +Malkern had never seen before, such as, perhaps, Malkern would never +see again. And inside Dave's office, that Will lay watching and waiting. + +It was a curious scene inside the office. The place had been largely +converted since the master of the mills had returned. It was half sick +room, half office, and the feminine touch about the place was quite +incongruous in the office of such a man as Dave. But then just now +Dave's control was only of the mill outside. In this room he yielded to +another authority. He was in the hands of womenfolk; that is, his body +was. He had no word to say in the arrangement of the room, and he was +only permitted to think his control outside. + +It was eleven o'clock, and his mother was preparing to take her +departure. Since his return from the camp she was her son's almost +constant attendant. Betty's chief concern was for the mill outside, and +the careful execution of the man's orders to his foremen. She took a +share of the nursing, but only in moments of leisure, and these were +very few. Now she had just returned from a final inspection and +consultation with Dawson. And the glow of satisfaction on her face was +good to see. + +"Now, mother dear," she said, after having made her report to Dave, +"you've got to be off home, and to bed. You've had a long, hard day, +and I'm going to relieve you. Dave is all right, and," she added with a +smile, "maybe he'll be better still before morning. We expect the logs +down by daylight, and then--I guess their arrival in the boom will do +more to mend his poor broken shoulder than all our quacks and nostrums. +So be off with you. I shall be here all night. I don't intend to rest +till the first log enters the boom." + +The old woman rose wearily from her rocking-chair at her boy's bedside. +Her worn face was tired. At her age the strain of nursing was very +heavy. But whatever weakness there was in her body, her spirit was as +strong as the younger woman's. Her boy was sick, and nothing else could +compare with a disaster of that nature. But now she was ready to go, +for so it had been arranged between them earlier. + +She crossed to Betty's side, and, placing her hands upon the girl's +shoulders, kissed her tenderly on both cheeks. + +"God bless and keep you, dearie," she said, with deep emotion. "I'd +like to tell you all I feel, but I can't. You're our guardian +angel--Dave's and mine. Good-night." + +"Good-night, mother dear," said the girl, her eyes brightening with a +suspicion of tears. Then, with an assumption of lightness which helped +to disguise her real feelings, "Now don't you stay awake. Go right off +to sleep, and--in the morning you shall hear--the mills!" + +The old woman nodded and smiled. Next to her boy she loved this +motherless girl best in the world. She gathered up her few belongings +and went to the bedside. Bending over the sick man she kissed his +rugged face tenderly. For a moment one great arm held her in its +tremendous embrace, then she toddled out of the room. + +Betty took her rocking-chair. She sat back and rocked herself in +silence for some moments. Her eyes wandered over the curious little +room, noting the details of it as though hugging to herself the memory +of the smallest trifle that concerned this wonderful time that was hers. + +There was Dave's desk before the window. It was hers now. There were +the vast tomes that recorded his output of lumber. She had spent hours +over them calculating figures for the man beside her. There were the +flowers his mother had brought, and which she had found time to arrange +so that he could see and enjoy them. There were the bandages it was her +duty to adjust. There were the remains of the food of which they had +both partaken. + +It was all real, yet so strange. So strange to her who had spent her +life surrounded by all those duties so essentially feminine, so closely +allied to her uncle's spiritual calling. She felt that she had moved +out into a new world, a world in which there was room for her to +expand, in which she could bring into play all those faculties which +she had always known herself to possess, but which had so long lain +dormant that she had almost come to regard her belief in their +existence as a mere dream, a mere vanity. + +It was a wonderful thing this, that had happened to her, and the +happiness of it was so overwhelming that it almost made her afraid. Yet +the fact remained. She was working for him, she was working with her +muscles and brain extended. She sighed, and, placing her hands behind +her head, stretched luxuriously. It was good to feel the muscles +straining, it was good to contemplate the progress of things in his +interests, it was good to love, and to feel that that love was +something more practical than the mere sentimentality of awakened +passion. + +Her wandering attention was recalled by a movement of her patient. She +glanced round at him, and his face was turned toward her. Her smiling +eyes responded to his steady, contemplative gaze. + +"Well?" he said, in a grave, subdued voice, "it ought to be getting +near now?" + +The girl nodded. + +"I don't see how we can tell exactly, but--unless anything goes wrong +the first logs should get through before daylight. It's good to think +of, Dave." Her eyes sparkled with delight at the prospect. + +The man eyed her for a few silent moments, and his eyes deepened to a +passionate warmth. + +"You're a great little woman, Betty," he said at last. "When I think of +all you have done for me--well, I just feel that my life can never be +long enough to repay you in. Throughout this business you have been my +second self, with all the freshness and enthusiasm of a mind and heart +thrilling with youthful strength. I can never forget the journey down +from the camp. When I think of the awful physical strain you must have +gone through, driving day and night, with a prisoner beside you, and a +useless hulk of a man lying behind, I marvel. When I think that you had +to do everything, feed us, camp for us, see to the horses for us, it +all seems like some fantastic dream. How did you do it? How did I come +to let you? It makes me smile to think that I, in my manly superiority, +simply lolled about with a revolver handy to enforce our prisoner's +obedience to your orders. Ah, little Betty, I can only thank Almighty +God that I have been blest with such a little--friend." + +The girl laid the tips of her fingers over his mouth. + +"You mustn't say these things," she said, in a thrilling voice. +"We--you and I--are just here together to work out your--your plans. +God has been very, very good to me that He has given me the power, in +however small a degree, to help you. Now let us put these things from +our minds for a time and be--be practical. Talking of our prisoner, +what are you going to do with--poor Jim?" + +It was some moments before Dave answered her. It was not that he had no +answer to her question, but her words had sent his mind wandering off +among long past days. He was thinking of the young lad he had so +ardently tried to befriend. He was thinking of the "poor Jim" of then +and now. He was recalling that day when those two had come to him with +their secret, with their youthful hope of the future, and of all that +day had meant to him. They had planned, he had planned, and now it was +all so--different. His inclination was to show this man leniency, but +his inclination had no power to alter his resolve. + +When he spoke there was no resentment in his tone against the man who +had so cruelly tried to ruin him, only a quiet decision. + +"I want you to tell Simon Odd to bring him here," he said. Then he +smiled. "I intend him to spend the night with me. That is, until the +first log comes down the river." + +"What are you going to do?" + +The man's smile increased in tenderness. + +"Don't worry your little head about that, Betty," he said. "There are +things which must be said between us. Things which only men can say to +men. I promise you he will be free to go when the mill starts work--but +not until then." His eyes grew stern. "I owe you so much, Betty," he +went on, "that I must be frank with you. So much depends upon our +starting work again that I cannot let him go until that happens." + +"And if--just supposing--that does not happen--I mean, supposing, +through his agency, the mill remains idle?" + +"I cannot answer you. I have only one thing to add." Dave had raised +himself upon his elbow, and his face was hard and set. "No man may +bring ruin upon a community to satisfy his own mean desires, his +revenge, however that revenge may be justified. If we fail, if Malkern +is to be made to suffer through that man--God help him!" + +The girl was facing him now. Her two hands were outstretched +appealingly. + +"But, Dave, should you judge him? Have you the right? Surely there is +but one judge, and His alone is the right to condemn weak, erring human +nature. Surely it is not for you--us." + +Dave dropped back upon his pillow. There was no relenting in his eyes. + +"His own work shall judge him," he said in a hard voice. "What I may do +is between him and me." + +Betty looked at him long and earnestly. Then she rose from her chair. + +"So be it, Dave. I ask you but one thing. Deal with him as your heart +prompts you, and not as your head dictates. I will send him to you, and +will come back again--when the mill is at work." + +Their eyes met in one long ardent gaze. The man nodded, and the smile +in his eyes was very, very tender. + +"Yes, Betty. Don't leave me too long--I can't do without you now." + +The girl's eyes dropped before the light she beheld in his. + +"I don't want you to--do without me," she murmured. And she hurried out +of the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +TWO MEN--AND A WOMAN + + +It took some time for Betty to carry out Dave's wishes. Simon Odd, who +was Jim Truscott's jailer while the mills were idle, and who had him +secreted away where curious eyes were not likely to discover him, was +closely occupied with the preparations at the other mill. She had to +dispatch a messenger to him, and the messenger having found Simon, it +was necessary for the latter to procure his prisoner and hand him over +to Dave himself. All this took a long time, nearly an hour and a half, +which made it two o'clock in the morning before Truscott reached the +office under his escort. + +Odd presented him with scant ceremony. He knocked on the door, was +admitted, and stood close behind his charge's shoulder. + +"Here he is, boss," said the man with rough freedom. "Will I stand by +in case he gits gay?" + +But Dave had his own ideas. He needed no help from anybody in dealing +with this man. + +"No," he said at once. "You can get back to your mill. I relieve you of +all further responsibility of your--charge. But you can pass me some +things to prop my pillow up before you go." + +The giant foreman did as he was bid. Being just a plain lumberman, with +no great nicety of fancy he selected three of the ledgers for the +purpose. Having propped his employer into a sitting posture, he took +his departure in silence. + +Dave waited until the door closed behind him. His cold eyes were on the +man who had so nearly ruined him, who, indirectly, had nearly cost him +his life. As the door closed he drew his right hand from under the +blankets, and in it was a revolver. He laid the weapon on the blanket, +and his fingers rested on the butt. + +Jim Truscott watched his movements, but his gaze was more mechanical +than one of active interest. What his thoughts were at the moment it +would have been hard to say, except that they were neither easy nor +pleasant, if one judged from the lowering expression of his weak face. +The active hatred which he had recently displayed in Dave's presence +seemed to be lacking now. It almost seemed as though the rough handling +he had been treated to, the failure of his schemes for Dave's ruin, had +dulled the edge of his vicious antagonism. It was as though he were +indifferent to the object of the meeting, to its outcome. He did not +even seem to appreciate the significance of the presence of that gun +under Dave's fingers. + +His attitude was that of a man beaten in the fight where all the odds +had seemed in his favor. His mind was gazing back upon the scene of his +disaster as though trying to discover the joint in the armor of his +attack which had rendered him vulnerable and brought about his defeat. + +Dave understood something of this. His understanding was more the +result of his knowledge of a character he had studied long ago, before +the vicious life the man had since lived had clouded the ingenuous +impulses of a naturally weak but happy nature. He did not fathom the +man's thoughts, he did not even guess at them. He only knew the +character, and the rest was like reading from an open book. In his +heart he was more sorry for him than he would have dared to admit, but +his mind was thinking of all the suffering the mischief of this one man +had caused, might yet cause. Betty had displayed a wonderful wisdom +when she bade him let his heart govern his judgment in dealing with +this man. + +"You'd best sit down--Jim," Dave said. Already his heart was defying +his head. That use of a familiar first name betrayed him. "It may be a +long sitting. You're going to stay right here with me until the mill +starts up work. I don't know how long that'll be." + +Truscott made no answer. He showed he had heard and understood by +glancing round for a chair. In this quest his eyes rested for a moment +on the closed door. They passed on to the chair at the desk. Then they +returned to the door again. Dave saw the glance and spoke sharply. + +"You'd best sit, boy. That door is closed--to you. And I'm here to keep +it closed--to you." + +Still the man made no reply. He turned slowly toward the chair at the +desk and sat down. His whole attitude expressed weariness. It was the +dejected weariness of a brain overcome by hopelessness. + +Watching him, Dave's mind reverted to Betty in association with him. He +wondered at the nature of this man's regard for her, a regard which was +his excuse for the villainies he had planned and carried out against +him, and the mills. His thoughts went back to the day of their boy and +girl engagement, as he called it now. He remembered the eager, +impulsive lover, weak, selfish, but full of passion and youthful +protestations. He thought of his decision to go away, and the manner of +it. He remembered it was Betty who finally decided for them both. And +her decision was against his more selfish desires, but one that opened +out for him the opportunity of showing himself to be the man she +thought him. Yes, this man had been too young, too weak, too +self-indulgent. There lay the trouble of his life. His love for Betty, +if it could be called by so pure a name, had been a mere +self-indulgence, a passionate desire of the moment that swept every +other consideration out of its path. There was not that underlying +strength needed for its support. Was he wholly to blame? Dave thought +not. + +Then there was that going to the Yukon. He had protested at the boy's +decision. He had known from the first that his character had not the +strength to face the pitiless breath of that land of snowy desolation. +How could one so weak pit himself against the cruel forces of nature +such as are to be found in that land? It was impossible. The inevitable +had resulted. He had fallen to the temptations of the easier paths of +vice in Dawson, and, lost in that whirl, Betty was forgotten. His +passion died down, satiated in the filthy dives of Dawson. Then had +come his return to Malkern. Stinking with the contamination of his +vices, he had returned caring for nothing but himself. He had once more +encountered Betty. The pure fresh beauty of the girl had promptly set +his vitiated soul on fire. But now there was no love, not even a love +such as had been his before, but only a mad desire, a desire as +uncontrolled as the wind-swept rollers of a raging sea. It was the +culminating evil of a manhood debased by a long period of loose, +vicious living. She must be his at any cost, and opposition only fired +his desire the more, and drove him to any length to attain his end. The +pity of it! A spirit, a bright buoyant spirit lost in the mad whirl of +a nature it had not been given him the power to control. His heart was +full of a sorrowful regret. His heart bled for the man, while his mind +condemned his ruthless actions. + +He lay watching in a silence that made the room seem heavy and +oppressive. As yet he had no words for the man who had come so nearly +to ruining him. He had not brought him there to preach to him, to blame +him, to twit him with the failure of his evil plans, the failure he had +made of a life that had promised so much. He held him there that he +might settle his reckoning with him, once and for all, in a manner +which should shut him out of his life forever. He intended to perform +an action the contemplation of which increased the sorrow he felt an +hundredfold, but one which he was fully determined upon as being the +only course, in justice to Betty, to Malkern, to himself, possible. + +The moments ticked heavily away. Truscott made no move. He gave not the +slightest sign of desiring to speak. His eyes scarcely heeded his +surroundings. It was almost as if he had no care for what this man who +held him in his power intended to do. It almost seemed as though the +weight of his failure had crushed the spirit within him, as though a +dreary lassitude had settled itself upon him, and he had no longer a +thought for the future. + +Once during that long silence he lifted his large bloodshot eyes, and +his gaze encountered the other's steady regard. They dropped almost at +once, but in that fleeting glance Dave read the smouldering fire of +hate which still burned deep down in his heart. The sight of it had no +effect. The man's face alone interested him. It looked years older, it +bore a tracery of lines about the eyes and mouth, which, at his age, it +had no right to possess. His hair, too, was already graying amongst the +curls that had always been one of his chief physical attractions. It +was thinning, too, a premature thinning at the temples, which also had +nothing to do with his age. + +Later, again, the man's eyes turned upon the door with a calculating +gaze. They came back to the bed where Dave was lying. The movement was +unmistakable. Dave's fingers tightened on the butt of his revolver, and +his great head was moved in a negative shake, and the ominous shining +muzzle of his revolver said plainly, "Don't!" Truscott seemed to +understand, for he made no movement, nor did he again glance at the +door. + +It was a strange scene. It was almost appalling in its significant +silence. What feelings were passing, what thoughts, no one could tell +from the faces of the two men. That each was living through a small +world of recollection, mostly bitter, perhaps regretful, there could be +no doubt, yet neither gave any sign. They were both waiting. In the +mind of one it was a waiting for what he could not even guess at, in +the other it was for something for which he longed yet feared might not +come. + +The hands of the clock moved on, but neither heeded them. Time meant +nothing to them now. An hour passed. An hour and a half. Two hours of +dreadful silence. That vigil seemed endless, and its silence appalling. + +Then suddenly a sound reached the waiting ears. It was a fierce +hissing, like an escape of steam. It grew louder, and into the hiss +came a hoarse tone, like a harsh voice trying to bellow through the +rushing steam. It grew louder and louder. The voice rose to a +long-drawn "hoot," which must have been heard far down the wide spread +of the Red Sand Valley. It struck deep into Dave's heart, and loosed in +it such a joy as rarely comes to the heart of man. It was the steam +siren of the mill belching out its message to a sleeping village. The +master of the mills had triumphed over every obstacle. The mill had +once more started work. + +Dave waited until the last echo of that welcome voice had died out. +Then, as his ears drank in the welcome song of his saws, plunging their +jagged fangs into the newly-arrived logs, he was content. + +He turned to the man in the chair. + +"Did you hear that, Jim? D'you know what it means?" he asked, in a +voice softened by the emotion of the moment. + +Truscott's eyes lifted. But he made no answer. The light in them was +ugly. He knew. + +"It means that you are free to go," Dave went on. "It means that my +contract will be successfully completed within the time limit. It means +that you will leave this village at once and never return, or the +penitentiary awaits you for the wrecking of my mills." + +Truscott rose from his seat. The hate in his heart was stirring. It was +rising to his head. The fury of his eyes was appalling. Dave saw it. He +shifted his gun and gripped it tightly. + +"Wait a bit, lad," he said coldly. "It means more than all that to you. +A good deal more. Can you guess it? It means that I--and not you--am +going to marry Betty Somers." + +"God!" + +The man was hit as Dave had meant him to be hit. He started, and his +clenched hand went up as though about to strike. The devil in his eyes +was appalling. + +"Now go! Quick!" + +The word leaped from the lumberman's lips, and his gun went up +threateningly. For a moment it seemed as though Truscott was about to +spring upon him, regardless of the weapon's shining muzzle. But he did +not move. A gun in Dave's hand was no idle threat, and he knew it. +Besides he had not the moral strength of the other. + +He moved to the door and opened it. Then for one fleeting second he +looked back. It may have been to reassure himself that the gun was +still there, it may have been a last expression of his hate. Another +moment and he was gone. Dave replaced his gun beneath the blankets and +sighed. + + +Betty sprang into the room. + +"Hello, door open?" she demanded, glancing about her suspiciously. Then +her sparkling eyes came back to the injured man. + +"Do you hear, Dave?" she cried, in an ecstasy of excitement. "Did you +hear the siren! I pulled and held the valve cord! Did you hear it! +Thank God!" + +Dave's happy smile was sufficient for the girl. Had he heard it? His +heart was still ringing with its echoes. + +"Betty, come here," he commanded. "Help me up." + +"Why----" + +"Help me up, dear," the man begged. "I must get up. I must get to the +door. Don't you understand, child--I must see." + +"But you can't go out, Dave!" + +"I know. I know. Only to the door. But--I must see." + +The girl came over to his bedside. She lifted him with a great effort. +He sat up. Then he swung his feet off the bed. + +"Now, little girl, help me." + +It felt good to him to enforce his will upon Betty in this way. And the +girl obeyed him with all her strength, with all her heart stirred at +his evident weakness. + +He stood leaning on her shakily. + +"Now, little Betty," he said, breathing heavily, "take me to the door." + +He placed his sound arm round her shoulders. He even leaned more +heavily upon her than was necessary. It was good to lean on her. He +liked to feel her soft round shoulders under his arm. Then, too, he +could look down upon the masses of warm brown hair which crowned her +head. To him his weakness was nothing in the joy of that moment, in the +joy of his contact with her. + +They moved slowly toward the door; he made the pace slower than +necessary. To him they were delicious moments. To Betty--she did not +know what she felt as her arm encircled his great waist, and all her +woman's strength and love was extended to him. + +At the door they paused. They stared out into the yards. The great +mills loomed up in the ruddy flare light. It was a dark, shadowy scene +in that inadequate light. The steady shriek of the saws filled the air. +The grinding of machinery droned forth, broken by the pulsing throb of +great shafts and moving beams. Men were hurrying to and fro, dim +figures full of life and intent upon the labors so long suspended. They +could see the trimmed logs sliding down the shoots, they could hear the +grind of the rollers, they could hear the shoutings of "checkers"; and +beyond they could see the glowing reflection of the waste fire. + +It was a sight that thrilled them both. It was a sight that filled +their hearts with thanks to God. Each knew that it meant--Success. + +Dave turned from the sight, and his eyes looked down upon the slight +figure at his side. Betty looked up into his face. Her eyes were misty +with tears of joy. Suddenly she dropped her eyes and looked again at +the scene before them. Her heart was beating wildly. Her arm supporting +the man at her side was shaking, nor was it with weariness of her task. +She felt that it could never tire of that. Dave's deep voice, so +gentle, yet so full of the depth and strength of his nature, was +speaking. + +"It's good, Betty. It's good. We've won out--you and I." + +Her lips moved to protest at the part she had played, but he silenced +her. + +"Yes, you and I," he said softly. "It's all ours--yours and mine. +You'll share it with me?" The girl's supporting arm moved convulsively. +"No, no," he went on quickly. "Don't take your arm away. I need--I need +its support. Betty--little Betty--I need more than that. I need your +support always. Say, dear, you'll give it me. You won't leave me alone +now? Betty--Betty, I love you--so--so almighty badly." + +The girl moved her head as though to avoid his kisses upon her hair. +Somehow her face was lifted in doing so, and they fell at once upon her +lips instead. + + + + + +Popular Copyright Books + +AT MODERATE PRICES + +Ask your dealer for a complete list of A. L. Burt Company's Popular +Copyright Fiction. + + + +Abner Daniel.+ By Will N. Harben. + +Adventures of A Modest Man.+ By Robert W. Chambers. + +Adventures of Gerard.+ By A. Conan Doyle. + +Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.+ By A. Conan Doyle. + +Ailsa Page.+ By Robert W. Chambers. + +Alternative, The.+ By George Barr McCutcheon. + +Ancient Law, The.+ By Ellen Glasgow. + +Angel of Forgiveness, The.+ By Rosa N. Carey. + +Angel of Pain, The.+ By E. F. Benson. + +Annals of Ann, The.+ By Kate Trimble Sharber. + +Anna the Adventuress.+ By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +Ann Boyd.+ By Will N. Harben. + +As the Sparks Fly Upward.+ By Cyrus Townsend Brady. + +At the Age of Eve.+ By Kate Trimble Sharber. + +At the Mercy of Tiberius.+ By Augusta Evans Wilson. + +At the Moorings.+ By Rosa N. Carey. + +Awakening of Helen Richie, The.+ By Margaret Deland. + +Barrier, The.+ By Rex Beach. + +Bar 20.+ By Clarence E. Mulford. + +Bar-20 Days.+ By Clarence E. Mulford. + +Battle Ground, The.+ By Ellen Glasgow. + +Beau Brocade.+ By Baroness Orczy. + +Beechy.+ By Bettina von Hutten. + +Bella Donna.+ By Robert Hichens. + +Beloved Vagabond, The.+ By William J. Locke. + +Ben Blair.+ By Will Lillibridge. + +Best Man, The.+ By Harold McGrath. + +Beth Norvell.+ By Randall Parrish. + +Betrayal, The.+ By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +Better Man, The.+ By Cyrus Townsend Brady. + +Beulah.+ (Illustrated Edition.) By Augusta J. Evans. + +Bill Toppers, The.+ By Andre Castaigne. + +Blaze Derringer.+ By Eugene P. Lyle, Jr. + +Bob Hampton of Placer.+ By Randall Parrish. + +Bob, Son of Battle.+ By Alfred Ollivant. + +Brass Bowl, The.+ By Louis Joseph Vance. + +Bronze Bell, The.+ By Louis Joseph Vance. + +Butterfly Man, The.+ By George Barr McCutcheon. + +By Right of Purchase..+ By Harold Bindloss. + +Cab No. 44.+ By R. F. Foster. + +Calling of Dan Matthews, The.+ By Harold Bell Wright. + +Call of the Blood, The.+ By Robert Hichens. + +Cape Cod Stories.+ By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +Cap'n Eri.+ By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +Captain Warren's Wards.+ By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +Caravaners, The.+ By the author of "Elizabeth and Her German Garden." + +Cardigan.+ By Robert W. Chambers. + +Carlton Case, The.+ By Ellery H. Clark. + +Car of Destiny, The.+ By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. + +Carpet From Bagdad, The.+ By Harold MacGrath. + +Cash Intrigue, The.+ By George Randolph Chester. + +Casting Away of Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine.+ Frank S. Stockton. + +Castle by the Sea, The.+ By H. B. Marriot Watson. + +Challoners, The.+ By E. F. Benson. + +Chaperon, The.+ By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. + +Circle, The.+ By Katherine Cecil Thurston (author of "The + Masquerader," "The Gambler.") + +Colonial Free Lance, A + By Chauncey C. Hotchkiss. + +Conquest of Canaan, The.+ By Booth Tarkington. + +Conspirators, The.+ By Robert W. Chambers. + +Cynthia of the Minute.+ By Louis Joseph Vance. + +Dan Merrithew.+ By Lawrence Perry. + +Day of the Dog, The.+ By George Barr McCutcheon. + +Depot Master, The.+ By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +Derelicts.+ By William J. Locke. + +Diamond Master, The.+ By Jacques Futrelle. + +Diamonds Cut Paste.+ By Agnes and Egerton Castle. + +Divine Fire, The.+ By May Sinclair. + +Dixie Hart.+ By Will N. Harben. + +Dr. David.+ By Marjorie Benton Cooke. + +Early Bird, The.+ By George Randolph Chester. + +Eleventh Hour, The.+ By David Potter. + +Elizabeth in Rugen.+ (By the author of "Elizabeth and Her German Garden.") + +Elusive Isabel.+ By Jacques Futrelle. + +Elusive Pimpernel, The.+ By Baroness Orczy. + +Enchanted Hat, The.+ By Harold McGrath. + +Excuse Me.+ By Rupert Hughes. + +54-40 or Fight.+ By Emerson Hough. + +Fighting Chance, The.+ By Robert W. Chambers. + +Flamsted Quarries.+ By Mary E. Waller. + +Flying Mercury, The.+ By Eleanor M. Ingram. + +For a Maiden Brave.+ By Chauncey C. Hotchkiss. + +Four Million, The.+ By O. Henry. + +Four Pool's Mystery, The.+ By Jean Webster. + +Fruitful Vine, The.+ By Robert Hichens. + +Ganton & Co.+ By Arthur J. Eddy. + +Gentleman of France, A.+ By Stanley Weyman. + +Gentleman, The.+ By Alfred Ollivant. + +Get-Rick-Quick-Wallingford.+ By George Randolph Chester. + +Gilbert Neal.+ By Will N. Harben. + +Girl and the Bill, The.+ By Bannister Merwin. + +Girl from His Town, The.+ By Marie Van Vorst. + +Girl Who Won, The.+ By Beth Ellis. + +Glory of Clementina, The.+ By William J. Locke. + +Glory of the Conquered, The.+ By Susan Glaspell. + +God's Good Man.+ By Marie Corelli. + +Going Some.+ By Rex Beach. + +Golden Web, The.+ By Anthony Partridge. + +Green Patch, The.+ By Bettina von Hutten. + +Happy Island+ (sequel to "Uncle William"). By Jennette Lee. + +Hearts and the Highway.+ By Cyrus Townsend Brady. + +Held for Orders.+ By Frank H. Spearman. + +Hidden Water.+ By Dane Coolidge. + +Highway of Fate. The.+ By Rosa N. Carey. + +Homesteaders. The.+ By Kate and Virgil D. Boyles. + +Honor of the Big Snows, The.+ By James Oliver Curwood. + +Hopalong Cassidy.+ By Clarence E. Mulford. + +Household of Peter, The.+ By Rosa N. Carey. + +House of Mystery, The.+ By Will Irwin. + +House of the Lost Court, The.+ By C. N. Williamson. + +House of the Whispering Pines, The.+ By Anna Katharine Green. + +House on Cherry Street, The.+ By Amelia E. Barr. + +How Leslie Loved.+ By Anne Warner. + +Husbands of Edith, The.+ By George Barr McCutcheon. + +Idols.+ By William J. Locke. + +Illustrious Prince, The.+ By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +Imprudence of Prue, The.+ By Sophie Fisher. + +Inez.+ (Illustrated Edition.) By Augusta J. Evans. + +Infelice.+ By Augusta Evans Wilson. + +Initials Only.+ By Anna Katharine Green. + +In Defiance of the King.+ By Chauncey C. Hotchkiss. + +Indifference of Juliet, The.+ By Grace S. Richmond. + +In the Service of the Princess.+ By Henry C. Rowland. + +Iron Woman, The.+ By Margaret Deland. + +Ishmael.+ (Illustrated.) By Mrs. Southworth. + +Island of Regeneration, The.+ By Cyrus Townsend Brady. + +Jack Spurlock, Prodigal.+ By Horace Lorimer. + +Jane Cable.+ By George Barr McCutcheon. + +Jeanne of the Marshes.+ By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +Jude the Obscure.+ By Thomas Hardy. + +Keith of the Border.+ By Randall Parrish. + +Key to the Unknown, The.+ By Rosa N. Carey. + +Kingdom of Earth, The.+ By Anthony Partridge. + +King Spruce.+ By Holman Day. + +Ladder of Swords, A.+ By Gilbert Parker. + +Lady Betty Across the Water.+ By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. + +Lady Merton, Colonist.+ By Mrs. Humphrey Ward. + +Lady of Big Shanty, The.+ By Berkeley F. Smith. + +Langford of the Three Bars.+ By Kate and Virgil D. Boyles. + +Land of Long Ago, The.+ By Eliza Calvert Hall. + +Lane That Had No Turning, The.+ By Gilbert Parker. + +Last Trail, The.+ By Zane Grey. + +Last Voyage of the Donna Isabel, The.+ By Randall Parrish. + +Leavenworth Case, The.+ By Anna Katharine Green. + +Lin McLean.+ By Owen Wister. + +Little Brown Jug at Kildare, The.+ By Meredith Nicholson. + +Loaded Dice.+ By Ellery H. Clarke. + +Lord Loveland Discovers America.+ By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. + +Lorimer of the Northwest.+ By Harold Bindloss. + +Lorraine.+ By Robert W. Chambers. + +Lost Ambassador, The.+ By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +Love Under Fire.+ By Randall Parrish. + +Loves of Miss Anne, The.+ By S. R. Crockett. + +Macaria.+ (Illustrated Edition.) By Augusta J. Evans. + +Mademoiselle Celeste.+ By Adele Ferguson Knight. + +Maid at Arms, The.+ By Robert W. Chambers. + +Maid of Old New York, A.+ By Amelia E. Barr. + +Maid of the Whispering Hills, The.+ By Vingie Roe. + +Maids of Paradise, The.+ By Robert W. Chambers. + +Making of Bobby Burnit, The.+ By George Randolph Chester. + +Mam' Linda.+ By Will N. Harben. + +Man Outside, The.+ By Wyndham Martyn. + +Man In the Brown Derby, The.+ By Wells Hastings. + +Marriage a la Mode.+ By Mrs. Humphrey Ward. + +Marriage of Theodora, The.+ By Molly Elliott Seawell. + +Marriage Under the Terror, A.+ By Patricia Wentworth. + +Master Mummer, The.+ By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +Masters of the Wheatlands.+ By Harold Bindloss. + +Max.+ By Katherine Cecil Thurston. + +Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes.+ By A. Conan Doyle. + +Millionaire Baby, The.+ By Anna Katharine Green. + +Missioner, The.+ By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +Miss Selina Lue.+ By Maria Thompson Daviess. + +Mistress of Brae Farm, The.+ By Rosa N. Carey. + +Money Moon, The.+ By Jeffery Farnol. + +Motor Maid, The.+ By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. + +Much Ado About Peter.+ By Jean Webster. + +Mr. Pratt.+ By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +My Brother's Keeper.+ By Charles Tenny Jackson. + +My Friend the Chauffeur.+ By C. N. and A. M. Williamson + +My Lady Caprice+ (author of the "Broad Highway"). Jeffery Farnol. + +My Lady of Doubt.+ By Randall Parrish. + +My Lady of the North.+ By Randall Parrish. + +My Lady of the South.+ By Randall Parrish. + +Mystery Tales.+ By Edgar Allen Poe. + +Nancy Stair.+ By Elinor Macartney Lane. + +Ne'er-Do-Well, The.+ By Rex Beach. + +No Friend Like a Sister.+ By Rosa N. Carey. + +Officer 666.+ By Barton W. Currie and Augustin McHugh. + +One Braver Thing.+ By Richard Dehan. + +Order No. 11.+ By Caroline Abbot Stanley. + +Orphan, The.+ By Clarence E. Mulford. + +Out of the Primitive.+ By Robert Ames Bennett. + +Pam.+ By Bettina von Hutten. + +Pam Decides.+ By Bettina von Hutten. + +Pardners.+ By Rex Beach. + +Partners of the Tide.+ By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +Passage Perilous, The.+ By Rosa N. Carey. + +Passers By.+ By Anthony Partridge. + +Paternoster Ruby, The.+ By Charles Edmonds Walk. + +Patience of John Moreland, The.+ By Mary Dillon. + +Paul Anthony, Christian.+ By Hiram W. Hays. + +Phillip Steele.+ By James Oliver Curwood. + +Phra the Phoenician.+ By Edwin Lester Arnold. + +Plunderer, The.+ By Roy Norton. + +Pole Baker.+ By Will N. Harben. + +Politician, The.+ By Edith Huntington Mason. + +Polly of the Circus.+ By Margaret Mayo. + +Pool of Flame, The.+ By Louis Joseph Vance. + +Poppy.+ By Cynthia Stockley. + +Power and the Glory, The.+ By Grace McGowan Cooke. + +Price of the Prairie, The.+ By Margaret Hill McCarter. + +Prince of Sinners, A.+ By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +Prince or Chauffeur.+ By Lawrence Perry. + +Princess Dehra, The.+ By John Reed Scott. + +Princess Passes, The.+ By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. + +Princess Virginia, The.+ By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. + +Prisoners of Chance.+ By Randall Parrish. + +Prodigal Son, The.+ By Hall Caine. + +Purple Parasol, The.+ By George Barr McCutcheon. + +Reconstructed Marriage, A.+ By Amelia Barr. + +Redemption of Kenneth Galt, The.+ By Will N. Harben. + +Red House on Rowan Street.+ By Roman Doubleday. + +Red Mouse, The.+ By William Hamilton Osborne. + +Red Pepper Burns.+ By Grace S. Richmond. + +Refugees, The.+ By A. Conan Doyle. + +Rejuvenation of Aunt Mary, The.+ By Anne Warner. + +Road to Providence, The.+ By Maria Thompson Daviess. + +Romance of a Plain Man, The.+ By Ellen Glasgow. + +Rose in the Ring, The.+ By George Barr McCutcheon. + +Rose of Old Harpeth, The.+ By Maria Thompson Daviess. + +Rose of the World.+ By Agnes and Egerton Castle. + +Round the Corner in Gay Street.+ By Grace S. Richmond. + +Routledge Rides Alone.+ By Will Livingston Comfort. + +Running Fight, The.+ By Wm. Hamilton Osborne. + +Seats of the Mighty, The.+ By Gilbert Parker. + +Septimus.+ By William J. Locke. + +Set In Silver.+ By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. + +Self-Raised.+ (Illustrated.) By Mrs. Southworth. + +Shepherd of the Hills, The.+ By Harold Bell Wright. + +Sheriff of Dyke Hole, The.+ By Ridgwell Cullum. + +Sidney Carteret, Rancher.+ By Harold Bindloss. + +Simon the Jester.+ By William J. Locke. + +Silver Blade, The.+ By Charles E. Walk. + +Silver Horde, The.+ By Rex Beach. + +Sir Nigel.+ By A. Conan Doyle. + +Sir Richard Calmady.+ By Lucas Malet. + +Skyman, The.+ By Henry Ketchell Webster. + +Slim Princess, The.+ By George Ade. + +Speckled Bird, A.+ By Augusta Evans Wilson. + +Spirit In Prison, A.+ By Robert Hichens. + +Spirit of the Border, The.+ By Zane Grey. + +Spirit Trail, The.+ By Kate and Virgil D.+ Boyles. + +Spoilers, The.+ By Rex Beach. + +Stanton Wins.+ By Eleanor M. Ingram. + +St. Elmo.+ (Illustrated Edition.) By Augusta J. Evans. + +Stolen Singer, The.+ By Martha Bellinger. + +Stooping Lady, The.+ By Maurice Hewlett. + +Story of the Outlaw, The.+ By Emerson Hough. + +Strawberry Acres.+ By Grace S. Richmond. + +Strawberry Handkerchief, The.+ By Amelia E.+ Barr. + +Sunnyside of the Hill, The.+ By Rosa N. Carey. + +Sunset Trail, The.+ By Alfred Henry Lewis. + +Susan Clegg and Her Friend Mrs. Lathrop.+ By Anne Warner. + +Sword of the Old Frontier, A.+ By Randall Parrish. + +Tales of Sherlock Holmes.+ By A. Conan Doyle. + +Tennessee Shad, The.+ By Owen Johnson. + +Tess of the D'Urbervilles.+ By Thomas Hardy. + +Texican, The.+ By Dane Coolidge. + +That Printer of Udell's.+ By Harold Bell Wright. + +Three Brothers, The.+ By Eden Phillpotts. + +Throwback, The.+ By Alfred Henry Lewis. + +Thurston of Orchard Valley.+ By Harold Bindloss. + +Title Market, The.+ By Emily Post. + +Torn Sails. A Tale of a Welsh Village.+ By Allen Raine. + +Trail of the Axe, The.+ By Ridgwell Cullum. + +Treasure of Heaven, The.+ By Marie Corelli. + +Two-Gun Man, The.+ By Charles Alden Seltzer. + +Two Vanrevels, The.+ By Booth Tarkington. + +Uncle William.+ By Jennette Lee. + +Up from Slavery.+ By Booker T. Washington. + +Vanity Box, The.+ By C. N. Williamson. + +Vashti.+ By Augusta Evans Wilson. + +Varmint, The.+ By Owen Johnson. + +Vigilante Girl, A.+ By Jerome Hart. + +Village of Vagabonds, A.+ By F.+ Berkeley Smith. + +Visioning, The.+ By Susan Glaspell. + +Voice of the People, The.+ By Ellen Glasgow. + +Wanted--A Chaperon.+ By Paul Leicester Ford. + +Wanted: A Matchmaker.+ By Paul Leicester Ford. + +Watchers of the Plains, The.+ By Ridgwell Cullum. + +Wayfarers, The.+ By Mary Stewart Cutting. + +Way of a Man, The.+ By Emerson Hough. + +Weavers, The.+ By Gilbert Parker. + +When Wilderness Was King.+ By Randall Parrish. + +Where the Trail Divides.+ By Will Lillibridge. + +White Sister, The.+ By Marion Crawford. + +Window at the White Cat, The.+ By Mary Roberts Rinehart. + +Winning of Barbara Worth, The.+ By Harold Bell Wright. + +With Juliet In England.+ By Grace S. Richmond. + +Woman Haters, The.+ By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +Woman In Question, The.+ By John Reed Scott. + +Woman In the Alcove, The.+ By Anna Katharine Green. + +Yellow Circle, The.+ By Charles E. Walk. + +Yellow Letter, The.+ By William Johnston. + +Younger Set, The.+ By Robert W. Chambers. + + + + +[Transcriber's note: Italicized text is indicated with _underscores_; +bolded text with +plus signs+.] + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Trail of the Axe, by Ridgwell Cullum + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRAIL OF THE AXE *** + +***** This file should be named 36522-8.txt or 36522-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/5/2/36522/ + +Produced by Andrew Sly, Al Haines and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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 Trail of the Axe + A Story of Red Sand Valley + +Author: Ridgwell Cullum + +Illustrator: Clarence F. Underwood + +Release Date: June 26, 2011 [EBook #36522] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRAIL OF THE AXE *** + + + + +Produced by Andrew Sly, Al Haines and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<A NAME="img-front"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG SRC="images/img-front.jpg" ALT="Frontispiece" BORDER="2"> +<H5> +"Don't think that makes any difference. I shall marry him +just the same." <BR> +<i>Frontispiece.—The Trail of the Axe</i>. +</H5> +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t1"> +The Trail of the Axe +</P> + +<P CLASS="t3"> +<i>A Story of the Red Sand Valley</i> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="t3"> +BY RIDGWELL CULLUM +</P> + +<P CLASS="t4"> +Author of "The Watchers of the Plains,"<BR> +"The Sheriff of Dyke Hole", etc. +</P> + +<BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t4"> +<SPAN STYLE="font-variant: small-caps">With Frontispiece in Colors</SPAN> +</P> + +<P CLASS="t3"> +<SPAN STYLE="font-variant: small-caps">By</SPAN> CLARENCE F. UNDERWOOD +</P> + +<BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t3"> +A. L. BURT COMPANY +<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="font-variant: small-caps">Publishers New York</SPAN> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t4"> +Copyright, 1910, by +<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="font-variant: small-caps">George W. Jacobs & Company</SPAN> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t2"> +CONTENTS +</P> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="80%"> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">CHAP.</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">I. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap01">Dave</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">II. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap02">A Picnic in the Red Sand Valley</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">III. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap03">Affairs in Malkern</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap04">Dick Mansell's News</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">V. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap05">Jim Truscott Returns</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap06">Parson Tom Interferes</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap07">The Work at the Mills</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap08">At the Church Bazaar</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap09">In Dave's Office</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">X. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap10">An Auspicious Meeting</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap11">The Summer Rains</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap12">The Old Mills</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap13">Betty Decides</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap14">The Mills</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap15">Betty Takes Cover</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap16">Disaster at the Mill</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap17">The Last of the Sawyer</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap18">Face To Face</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap19">In the Mountains</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap20">The Church Militant</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap21">An Adventure in the Fog</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap22">Terror in the Mountains</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap23">The Red Tide of Anarchy</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap24">In the Dead of Night</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap25">Mason's Prisoner</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap26">To the Lumber Camp</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap27">At Bay</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap28">Dave—the Man</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap29">The End of the Strike</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap30">In the Dugout</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXXI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap31">At Midnight</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXXII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap32">Two Men—and a Woman</A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +The Trail of the Axe +</H2> + +<BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +DAVE +</H4> + +<P> +Dave was thirty-two, but looked forty; for, in +moulding his great, strong, ugly face, Nature had +been less than kind to him. It is probable, from +his earliest, Dave had never looked less than ten +years older than he really was. +</P> + +<P> +Observing him closely, one had the impression +that Nature had set herself the task of equipping +him for a tremendous struggle in the battle of life; +as though she had determined to make him invincible. +Presuming this to have been her purpose, +she set to work with a liberal hand. She gave him +a big heart, doubtless wishing him to be strong to +fight and of a great courage, yet with a wonderful +sympathy for the beaten foe. She gave him the +thews and sinews of a Hercules, probably arguing +that a man must possess a mighty strength with +which to carry himself to victory. To give him +such physical strength it was necessary to provide +a body in keeping. Thus, his shoulders were abnormally +wide, his chest was of a mighty girth, his +arms were of phenomenal length, and his legs were +gnarled and knotted with muscles which could +never be satisfactorily disguised by the class of +"store" clothes it was his frugal custom to wear. +</P> + +<P> +For his head Nature gave him a fine, keen brain; +strong, practical, subtly far-seeing in matters commercial, +bluntly honest and temperate, yet withal +matching his big heart in kindly sympathy. It +was thrilling with a vast energy and capacity for +work, but so pronounced was its dominating force, +that in the development of his physical features it +completely destroyed all delicacy of mould and +gentleness of expression. He displayed to the +world the hard, rugged face of the fighter, without +any softening, unless, perhaps, one paused to look +into the depths of his deep-set gray eyes. +</P> + +<P> +Nature undoubtedly fulfilled her purpose. Dave +was equipped as few men are equipped, and if it +were to be regretted that his architect had forgotten +that even a fighting man has his gentler moments, +and that there are certain requirements in +his construction to suit him to such moments, in +all other respects he had been treated lavishly. +Summed up briefly, Dave was a tower of physical +might, with a face of striking plainness. +</P> + +<P> +It was twelve years since he came to the Red +Sand Valley. He was then fresh from the lumber +regions of Puget Sound, on the western coast of +the United States. He came to Western Canada +in search of a country to make his own, with a +small capital and a large faith in himself, supported +by a courage that did not know the meaning of defeat. +</P> + +<P> +He found the Red Sand Valley nestling in the +foot-hills of the Rocky Mountains. He saw the +wonders of the magnificent pine woods which covered +the mountain slopes in an endless sea of deep, +sombre green. And he knew that these wonderful +primordial wastes were only waiting for the axe of +the woodsman to yield a building lumber second to +none in the world. +</P> + +<P> +The valley offered him everything he needed. +A river that flowed in full tide all the open season, +with possibilities of almost limitless "timber booms" +in its backwaters, a delicious setting for a village, +with the pick of a dozen adequate sites for the +building of lumber mills. He could hope to find +nothing better, so he stayed. +</P> + +<P> +His beginning was humble. He started with a +horse-power saw-pit, and a few men up in the hills +cutting for him. But he had begun his great +struggle with fortune, and, in a man such as Nature +had made him, it was a struggle that could only +end with his life. The battle was tremendous, but +he never hesitated, he never flinched. +</P> + +<P> +Small as was his beginning, six years later his +present great mills and the village of Malkern had +begun to take shape. Then, a year later, the result +of his own persistent representation, the Canadian +Northwestern Railroad built a branch line to his +valley. And so, in seven years, his success was +practically assured. +</P> + +<P> +Now he was comfortably prosperous. The village +was prosperous. But none knew better than +he how much still remained to be achieved before +the foundations of his little world were adequate to +support the weight of the vast edifice of commercial +enterprise, which, with his own two hands, his +own keen brain, he hoped to erect. +</P> + +<P> +He was an American business man raised in the +commercial faith of his country. He understood +the value of "monopoly," and he made for it. +Thus, when he could ill spare capital, by dint of +heavy borrowings he purchased all the land he required, +and the "lumbering" rights of that vast +region. +</P> + +<P> +Then it was that he extended operations. He +abandoned his first mill and began the building of +his larger enterprise further down the valley, at a +point where he had decided that the village of +Malkern should also begin its growth. +</P> + +<P> +Once the new mill was safely established he sold +his old one to a man who had worked with him +from the start. The transaction was more in the +nature of a gift to an old friend and comrade. The +price was nominal, but the agreement was binding +that the mill should only be used for the production +of small building material, and under no circumstances +to be used in the production of rough +"baulks." This was to protect his own monopoly +in that class of manufacture. +</P> + +<P> +George Truscott, the lumberman with whom he +made the transaction, worked the old mills with +qualified success for two years. Then he died suddenly +of blood-poisoning, supervening upon a badly +mutilated arm torn by one of his own saws. The +mill automatically became the property of his only +son Jim, a youth of eighteen, curly-headed, bright, +lovable, but wholly irresponsible for such an up-hill +fight as the conduct of the business his father had +left him. +</P> + +<P> +The master of the Malkern mills, as might be expected, +was a man of simple habits and frugal +tastes. In his early struggles he had had neither +time nor money with which to indulge himself, and +the habit of simple living had grown upon him. +He required so very little. He had no luxurious +home; a mere cottage of four rooms and a kitchen, +over which an aged and doting mother ruled, her +establishment consisting of one small maid. His +office was a shack of two rooms, bare but useful, +containing one chair and one desk, and anything he +desired to find a temporary safe resting-place for +strewn about the floor, or hung upon nails driven into +the walls. It was all he needed, a roof to shade him +from the blazing summer sun when he was making +up his books, and four walls to shut out the cruel blasts +of the Canadian winter. +</P> + +<P> +He was sitting at his desk now, poring over a heap +of letters which had just arrived by the Eastern +mail. This was the sort of thing he detested. +Correspondence entailed a lot of writing, and he +hated writing. Figures he could cope with, he had +no grudge against them, but composing letters was +a task for which he did not feel himself adequately +equipped; words did not flow easily from his pen. +His education was rather the education of a man +who goes through the world with ears and eyes wide +open. He had a wide knowledge of men and +things, but the inside of books was a realm into +which he had not deeply delved. +</P> + +<P> +At last he pushed his letters aside and sat back, +his complaining chair protesting loudly at the burden +imposed upon it. He drew an impatient sigh, +and began to fill his pipe, gazing through the rain-stained +window under which his untidy desk stood. +He had made up his mind to leave the answering of +his letters until later in the day, and the decision +brought him some relief. +</P> + +<P> +He reached for the matches. But suddenly he altered +his mind and removed his pipe from his +mouth. A smile shone in his deep-set eyes at the +sight of a dainty, white figure which had just +emerged from behind a big stack of milled timber +out in the yard and was hurrying toward the office. +</P> + +<P> +He needed no second glance to tell him who the +figure belonged to. It was Betty—little Betty +Somers, as he loved to call her—who taught the extreme +youth of Malkern out of her twenty-two years +of erudition and worldly wisdom. +</P> + +<P> +He sprang from his chair and went to the door to +meet her, and as he walked his great bulk and vast +muscle gave his gait something of the roll of a sailor. +He had no lightness, no grace in his movements; +just the ponderous slowness of monumental strength. +He stood awaiting her in the doorway, which he almost +filled up. +</P> + +<P> +Betty was not short, but he towered above her as +she came up, his six feet five inches making nothing +of her five feet six. +</P> + +<P> +"This is bully," he cried delightedly, as she stood +before him. "I hadn't a notion you were getting +around this morning, Betty." +</P> + +<P> +His voice was as unwieldy as his figure; it was +husky too, in the manner of powerful voices when +their owners attempt to moderate them. The girl +laughed frankly up into his face. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm playing truant," she explained. Then her +pretty lips twisted wryly, and she pointed at the +lintel of the door. "Please sit down there," she +commanded. Then she laughed again. "I want to +talk to you, and—and I have no desire to dislocate +my neck." +</P> + +<P> +He made her feel so absurdly small; she was +never comfortable unless he was sitting down. +</P> + +<P> +The man grinned humorously at her imperious +tone, and sat down. They were great friends, these +two. Betty looked upon him as a very dear, big, +ugly brother to whom she could always carry all +her little worries and troubles, and ever be sure of a +sympathetic adviser. It never occurred to her that +Dave could be anything dearer to anybody. He +was just Dave—dear old Dave, an appellation which +seemed to fit him exactly. +</P> + +<P> +The thought of him as a lover was quite impossible. +It never entered her head. Probably the +only people in Malkern who ever considered the +possibility of Dave as a lover were his own mother, +and perhaps Mrs. Tom Chepstow. But then they +were wiser than most of the women of the village. +Besides, doubtless his mother was prejudiced, and +Mrs. Tom, in her capacity as the wife of the Rev. +Tom Chepstow, made it her business to study the +members of her husband's parish more carefully +than the other women did. But to the ordinary observer +he certainly did not suggest the lover. He +was so strong, so cumbersome, so unromantic. Then +his ways were so deliberate, so machine-like. It +almost seemed as though he had taken to himself +something of the harsh precision of his own +mills. +</P> + +<P> +On the other hand, his regard for Betty was a +matter of less certainty. Good comradeship was +the note he always struck in their intercourse, but +oftentimes there would creep into his gray eyes a +look which spoke of a warmth of feeling only held +under because his good sense warned him of the +utter hopelessness of it. He was too painfully aware +of the quality of Betty's regard for him to permit +himself any false hopes. +</P> + +<P> +Betty's brown eyes took on a smiling look of reproach +as she held up a warning finger. +</P> + +<P> +"Dave," she said, with mock severity, "I always +have to remind you of our compact. I insist that +you sit down when I am talking to you. I refuse +to be made to feel—and look—small. Now light +your pipe and listen to me." +</P> + +<P> +"Go ahead," he grinned, striking a match. His +plain features literally shone with delight at her +presence there. Her small oval, sun-tanned face +was so bright, so full of animation, so healthy looking. +There was such a delightful frankness about +her. Her figure, perfectly rounded, was slim and +athletic, and her every movement suggested the +open air and perfect health. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, it's this way," she began, seating herself +on the corner of a pile of timber: "I'm out on the +war-path. I want scalps. My pocketbook is +empty and needs filling, and when that's done I'll +get back to my school children, on whose behalf I +am out hunting." +</P> + +<P> +"It's your picnic?" suggested Dave. +</P> + +<P> +"Not mine. The kiddies'. So now, old boy, +put up your hands! It's your money or your life." +And she sat threatening him with her pocketbook, +pointing it at him as though it were a pistol. +</P> + +<P> +Dave removed his pipe. +</P> + +<P> +"Guess you'd best have 'em both," he smiled. +</P> + +<P> +But Betty shook her head with a joyous laugh. +</P> + +<P> +"I only want your money," she said, extending +an open hand toward him. +</P> + +<P> +Dave thrust deep into his hip-pocket, and produced +a roll of bills. +</P> + +<P> +"It's mostly that way," he murmured, counting +them out. +</P> + +<P> +But his words had reached the girl, and her laugh +died suddenly. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Dave!" she said reproachfully. +</P> + +<P> +And the man's contrition set him blundering. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, Betty, I'm a fool man anyway. Don't +take any sort of notice. I didn't mean a thing. +Now here's fifty, and you can have any more you +need." +</P> + +<P> +He looked straight into her eyes, which at once +responded to his anxious smile. But she did not +attempt to take the money. She shook her head. +</P> + +<P> +"Too much." +</P> + +<P> +But he pushed the bills into her hand. +</P> + +<P> +"You can't refuse," he said. "You see, it's for +the kiddies. It isn't just for you." +</P> + +<P> +When Dave insisted refusal was useless. Betty +had long since learned that. Besides, as he said, it +was for the "kiddies." She took the money, and +he sat and watched her as she folded the bills into +her pocketbook. The girl looked up at the sound +of a short laugh. +</P> + +<P> +"What's that for?" she demanded, her brown +eyes seriously inquiring. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, just nothing. I was thinking." +</P> + +<P> +The man glanced slowly about him. He looked +up at the brilliant summer sun. Then his eyes +rested upon the rough exterior of his unpretentious +office. +</P> + +<P> +"It meant something," asserted Betty. "I hate +people to laugh—in that way." +</P> + +<P> +"I was thinking of this shack of mine. I was +just thinking, Betty, what a heap of difference an +elegant coat of paint makes to things. You see, +they're just the same underneath, but they—kind of +look different with paint on 'em, kind of please the +eye more." +</P> + +<P> +"Just so," the girl nodded wisely. "And so you +laughed—in that way." +</P> + +<P> +Dave's eyes twinkled. +</P> + +<P> +"You're too sharp," he said. Then he abruptly +changed the subject. +</P> + +<P> +"Now about this picnic. You're expecting all +the grown folk?" +</P> + +<P> +The girl's eyes opened to their fullest extent. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course I do. Don't you always come? It's +only once a year." The last was very like a reproach. +</P> + +<P> +The man avoided her eyes. He was looking out +across the sea of stacked timber at the great sheds +beyond, where the saws were shrieking out their +incessant song. +</P> + +<P> +"I was thinking," he began awkwardly, "that +I'm not much good at those things. Of course I +guess I can hand pie round to the folks; any fellow +can do that. But——" +</P> + +<P> +"But what?" The girl had risen from her seat +and was trying to compel his gaze. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you see, we're busy here—desperately +busy. Dawson's always grumbling that we're +short-handed——" +</P> + +<P> +Betty came up close to him, and he suddenly felt +a gentle squeeze on his shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"You don't want to come," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"'Tisn't that—not exactly." +</P> + +<P> +He kept his eyes turned from her. +</P> + +<P> +"You see," he went on, "you'll have such a heap +of folk there. They mostly all get around—for +you. Then there'll be Jim Truscott, and Jim's +worth a dozen of me when it comes to picnics and +'sociables' and such-like." +</P> + +<P> +The girl's hand suddenly dropped from his +shoulder, and she turned away. A flush slowly +mounted to her sun-tanned cheeks, and she was +angry at it. She stood looking out at the mills +beyond, but she wasn't thinking of them. +</P> + +<P> +At last she turned back to her friend and her +soft eyes searched his. +</P> + +<P> +"If—if you don't come to the picnic to-morrow, +I'll never forgive you, Dave—never!" +</P> + +<P> +And she was gone before his slow tongue could +frame a further excuse. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +A PICNIC IN THE RED SAND VALLEY +</H4> + +<P> +Summer, at the foot of the Canadian Rockies, +sets in suddenly. There are no dreary days of +damp and cold when the east wind bites through to +the bones and chills right down to the marrow. +One moment all is black, dead; the lean branches +and dead grass of last year make a waste of dreary +decay. Watch. See the magic of the change. +The black of the trees gives way to a warming +brown; the grass, so sad in its depression, suddenly +lightens with the palest hue of green. There is at +once a warmth of tone which spreads itself over the +world, and gladdens the heart and sets the pulses +throbbing with renewed life and hope. Animal life +stirs; the insect world rouses. At the sun's first +smile the whole earth wakens; it yawns and +stretches itself; it blinks and rubs its eyes, and +presently it smiles back. The smile broadens into +a laugh, and lo! it is summer, with all the world +clad in festal raiment, gorgeous in its myriads of +changing color-harmonies. +</P> + +<P> +It was on such a day in the smiling valley of the +Red Sand River that Betty Somers held her school +picnic. There were no shadows to mar the festivities +she had arranged. The sky was brilliant, +cloudless, and early in the season as it was, the +earth was already beginning to crack and parch under +the fiery sun. +</P> + +<P> +A dozen democrat wagons, bedecked with flags +and filled to overflowing with smiling, rosy-faced +children, each wagon under the charge of one of +the village matrons, set out at eight o'clock in the +morning for the camping-ground. Besides these, +an hour later, a large number of private buggies +conveyed the parents and provender, while the +young people of the village rode out on horseback +as a sort of escort to the commissariat. It was a +gay throng, and there could be little doubt but that +the older folk were as delighted at the prospect of +the outing as the children themselves. +</P> + +<P> +Dave was there with the rest. Betty's challenge +had had its effect. But he came without any of +the enthusiasm of the rest of the young people. It +was perfectly true that the demands of his mill +made the outing inconvenient to him, but that was +not the real reason of his reluctance. There was +another, a far stronger one. All the years of his +manhood had taught him that there was small +place for him where the youth of both sexes foregathered. +His body was too cumbersome, his +tongue was too slow, and his face was too plain. +The dalliance of man and maid was not for him, he +knew, and did he ever doubt or forget it, his looking-glass, +like an evil spirit, was ever ready to +remind and convince him. +</P> + +<P> +The picnic ground was some five miles down the +valley, in the depths of a wide, forest-grown glen, +through which a tiny tributary of the Red Sand +River tumbled its way over a series of miniature +waterfalls. The place was large and magnificently +rock-bound, and looked as though it had originally +been chiseled by Nature to accommodate a rushing +mountain torrent. It gave one the impression +of a long disused waterway which, profiting by its +original purpose, had become so wonderfully fertilized +that its vegetation had grown out of all proportion +to its capacity. It was a veritable jungle of +undergrowth and forest, so dense and wide spreading +as almost to shut out the dazzling sunlight. It +was an ideal pleasure camping-ground, where the +children could romp and play every game known +to the Western child, and their elders could revel +in the old, old game which never palls, and which +the practice of centuries can never rob of its youth. +</P> + +<P> +All the morning the children played, while the +women were kept busy with the preparations for +the midday feast. The men were divided up into +two sections, the elders, taking office under the +command of Tom Chepstow, organizing the children's +games, and the other half, acknowledging +the leadership of Mrs. Tom, assisting those engaged +in the culinary arrangements. +</P> + +<P> +As might be expected, the latter occupation +found most favor with the younger men. There +was far more fun in wandering through the tangled +undergrowth of the riverside to help a girl fill a +kettle, than in racking one's brains for some startlingly +unoriginal and long-forgotten game with +which to dazzle the mind of Malkern's youth. +Then there were the joys of gathering fire-wood, a +task which enlisted the services of at least a dozen +couples. This was a much favored occupation. +There was no time limit, and it involved a long, +long ramble. Then, too, it was remarkable that +every girl performing the simplest duty, and one in +which she never required the least assistance when +at home, found it quite impossible to do so here +without the strong physical and moral support of +the man she most favored. +</P> + +<P> +Thus the morning passed. While the girls and +men flirted, and the older women took to themselves +a reflected enjoyment of it all, the children +shrieked their delight at the simplest game, and +baited their elders with all the impudence of childhood. +It was a morning of delight to all; a morning +when the sluggish blood of the oldest quickened +in the sunken veins; a morning when the joy of +living was uppermost, and all care was thrust into +the background. +</P> + +<P> +It was not until after dinner that Dave saw anything +of Betty. As he had anticipated, Jim Truscott +never left her side, and his own morning had +been spent with Tom Chepstow and the children. +Then, at dinner, it had fallen to his lot to assist the +matrons in waiting upon the same riotous horde. +In consequence, by the time he got his own meal, +Betty and the younger section of the helpers had finished +theirs and were wandering off into the woods. +</P> + +<P> +After dinner he sought out a secluded spot in +which to smoke and—make the best of things. +He felt he had earned a rest. His way took him +along the bank of the little tumbling river. It was +delightfully restful, cool and shadowed by the overhanging +trees that nearly met across it. It was not +an easy path, but it was calmly beautiful and +remote, and that was all he sought. +</P> + +<P> +Just above one rapid, something larger than the +others he had passed, he came to a little log footbridge. +It was a delicious spot, and he sat down +and filled his pipe. The murmur of the rapids +below came up to him pleasantly. All the foliage +about him was of that tender green inspired by the +humidity of the dank, river atmosphere. Here and +there the sun broke through in patches and lit up +the scene, and added beauty to the remoter shadows +of the woods. It was all so peaceful. Even +the distant voices of the children seemed to add to +the calm of his retreat. +</P> + +<P> +His pipe was nearly finished, and an insidious +languor was stealing over him. He nodded once +or twice, almost asleep. Then he started wide +awake; a familiar laughing voice sounded just +behind him, calling him by name. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Dave! So this is where you are! I've +been hunting for you till—till my feet are sore." +</P> + +<P> +Before he could move Betty had plumped herself +down beside him on the bridge. He was wide +enough awake now, and his delight at the girl's +presence was so apparent that she promptly and +frankly remarked upon it. +</P> + +<P> +"I do believe you're glad I came, and—woke +you up," she laughed. +</P> + +<P> +The man leant back luxuriously and propped +himself against the post of the hand-rail. +</P> + +<P> +"I am, surely," he said with conviction. "I've +been thinking about picnics. It seems to me +they're a heap of fun——" +</P> + +<P> +"So you stole away by yourself to enjoy this +one." +</P> + +<P> +Betty's brown eyes glanced slyly at him. There +was a half smile in them, and yet they were serious. +Dave began to refill his pipe. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Betty, you see I just thought I'd like a +smoke. I've been with the kiddies all morning." +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly the girl sat round facing him. +</P> + +<P> +"Dave, I'm a little beast. I oughtn't to have +made you come. I know you don't care for this +sort of thing, only—well, you are so kind, and you +are so fond of making people happy. And you—you—— Oh, +Dave, I—I want to tell you something. +That's—that's why I was hunting for +you." +</P> + +<P> +She had turned from him, and was gazing out +down the stream now. Her face was flushed a +deep scarlet. For an instant she had encountered +his steady gray eyes and her confusion had been +complete. She felt as though he had read right +down into her very soul. +</P> + +<P> +Dave put his pipe away. The serious expression +of his rugged face was unchanged, but the smile in +his eyes had suddenly become more pronounced. +</P> + +<P> +"So that's why you hunted me out?" he said +gently. "Well, Betty, you can tell me." +</P> + +<P> +He had seen the blushing face. He had noted +the embarrassment and hesitancy, and the final desperate +plunge. He knew in his heart what was +coming, and the pain of that knowledge was so +acute that he could almost have cried out. Yet he +sat there waiting, his eyes smiling, his face calmly +grave as it always was. +</P> + +<P> +For nearly a minute neither spoke. Then the +man's deep voice urged the girl. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" +</P> + +<P> +Betty rested her face in her hands and propped +her elbows on her knees. All her embarrassment +had gone now. She was thinking, thinking, and +when at last her words came that tone of excitement +which she had used just a moment before had +quite gone out of her voice. +</P> + +<P> +"It's Jim," she said quietly. "He's asked me to +marry him. I've promised—and—and he's gone to +speak to uncle." +</P> + +<P> +Dave took out his pipe again and looked into +the bowl of it. +</P> + +<P> +"I guessed it was that," he said, after a while. +Then he fumbled for his tobacco. "And—are you +happy—little Betty?" he asked a moment later. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—I—I think so." +</P> + +<P> +"You think so?" +</P> + +<P> +Dave was astonished out of himself. +</P> + +<P> +"You only think so?" he went on, his breath +coming quickly. +</P> + +<P> +Betty sat quite still and the man watched her, +with his pipe and tobacco gripped tightly in his +great hand. He was struggling with a mad desire +to crush this girl to his heart and defy any one to +take her from him. It was a terrible moment. +But the wild impulse died down. He took a deep +breath and—slowly filled his pipe. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me," he said, and his tone was very tender. +</P> + +<P> +The girl turned to him. She rested an arm on +his bent knee and looked up into his face. There +was no longer any hesitation or doubt. She was +pale under the warm tanning of her cheeks, but she +was very pretty, and, to Dave, wildly seductive as +she thus appealed to him. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Dave, I must tell you all. You are my +only real friend. You, I know, will understand, +and can help me. If I went to uncle, good and +kind as he is, I feel he would not understand. And +auntie, she is so matter-of-fact and practical. But +you—you are different from anybody else." +</P> + +<P> +The man nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"I have loved Jim for so long," she went on +hurriedly. "Long—long before he ever even +noticed me. To me he has always been everything +a man should and could be. You see, he is +so kind and thoughtful, so brave, so masterful, so—so +handsome, with just that dash of recklessness +which makes him so fascinating to a girl. I have +watched him pay attention to other girls, and night +after night I have cried myself to sleep about it. +Dave, you have never known what it is to love anybody, +so all this may seem silly to you, but I only +want to show you how much I have always cared +for Jim. Well, after a long time he began to take +notice of me. I remember it so well," she went on, +with a far-away look in her eyes. "It was a year +ago, at our Church Social. He spent a lot of time +with me there, and gave me a box of candy, and +then asked permission to see me home. Dave, +from that moment I was in a seventh heaven of +happiness. Every day I have felt and hoped that +he would ask me to be his wife. I have longed for +it, prayed for it, dreaded it, and lived in a dream of +happiness. And now he has asked me." +</P> + +<P> +She turned away to the bustling stream. Her +eyes had become pathetically sad. +</P> + +<P> +"And——" Dave prompted her. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I don't know." She shook her head a little +helplessly. "It all seems different now." +</P> + +<P> +"Different?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, that wildly happy feeling has gone." +</P> + +<P> +"You are—unhappy?" +</P> + +<P> +The man's voice shook as he put his question. +</P> + +<P> +"It isn't that. I'm happy enough, I suppose. +Only—only—I think I'm frightened now, or something. +All my dreams seem to have tumbled +about my ears. I have no longer that wonderful +looking forward. Is it because he is mine now, and +no one can take him from me? Or is it," her voice +dropped to an awed whisper, "that—I—don't——" +</P> + +<P> +She broke off as though afraid to say all she +feared. Dave lit his pipe and smoked slowly and +thoughtfully. He had gone through his ordeal +listening to her, and now felt that he could face +anything without giving his own secret away. He +must reassure her. He must remove the doubt in +her mind, for, in his quiet, reasoning way, he told +himself that all her future happiness was at stake. +</P> + +<P> +"No, it's not that, Betty," he said earnestly. +"It's not that you love him less. It's just that for +all that year you've thought and thought and +hoped about it—till there's nothing more to it," he +added lamely. "You see, it's the same with all +things. Realization is nothing. It's all in the anticipation. +You wait, little girl. When things are +fixed, and Parson Tom has said 'right,' you'll—why, +you'll just be the happiest little bit of a girl in +Malkern. That's sure." +</P> + +<P> +Betty lifted her eyes to his ugly face and looked +straight into the kindly eyes. Just for one impulsive +moment she reached out and took hold of his +knotty hand and squeezed it. +</P> + +<P> +"Dave, you are the dearest man in the world. +You are the kindest and best," she cried with unusual +emotion. "I wonder——" and she turned +away to hide the tears that had suddenly welled up +into her troubled eyes. +</P> + +<P> +But Dave had seen them, and he dared not trust +himself to speak. He sat desperately still and +sucked at his pipe, emitting great clouds of smoke +till the pungent fumes bit his tongue. +</P> + +<P> +Then relief came from an unexpected quarter. +There was a sharp crackling of bush just above +where they sat and the scrunch of crushing pine +cones trodden under foot, and Jim Truscott stepped +on to the bridge. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, here you are at last. My word, but I had +a job to find you." +</P> + +<P> +His tone was light and easy, but his usually smiling +face was clouded. Betty sprang to her feet. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it, Jim?" she demanded, searching his +face. "Something is wrong. I know it is." +</P> + +<P> +Jim seated himself directly in front of Dave, who +now watched him with added interest. He now +noticed several things in the boy he did not remember +having observed before. The face in repose, or +rather without the smile it usually wore, bore signs +of weakness about the mouth. The whole of the +lower part of it lacked the imprint of keen decision. +There was something almost effeminate about the +mould of his full lips, something soft and yielding—even +vicious. The rest of his face was good, and +even intellectual. He was particularly handsome, +with crisp curling hair of a light brown that closely +matched his large expressive eyes. His tall athletic +figure was strangely at variance with the intellectual +cast of his face and head. But what Dave most +noticed were the distinct lines of dissipation about +his eyes. And he wondered how it was he had +never seen them before. Perhaps it was that he so +rarely saw Jim without his cheery smile. Perhaps, +now that Betty had told him what had taken place, +his observation was closer, keener. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it, Jim?" He added his voice to +Betty's inquiry. Jim's face became gloomier. He +turned to the girl, who had resumed her seat at +Dave's side. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you told him?" he asked, and for a moment +his eyes brightened with a shadow of their old +smile. +</P> + +<P> +The girl nodded, and Dave answered for her. +</P> + +<P> +"She's told me enough to know you're the luckiest +fellow in the Red Sand Valley," he said kindly. +</P> + +<P> +Jim glanced up into the girl's face with all the +passion of his youthful heart shining in his handsome +eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I am, Dave—in that way," he said. Then +his smile faded out and was replaced by a brooding +frown. "But all the luck hasn't come my way. +I've talked to Parson Tom." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah!" Dave's ejaculation was ominous. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly Jim exploded, half angrily, half pettishly, +like a disappointed schoolboy. +</P> + +<P> +"Betty, I've got to go away. Your uncle says +so. He asked me all about my mill, what my profits +were, and all that. I told him honestly. I +know I'm not doing too well. He said I wasn't +making enough to keep a nigger servant on. He +told me that until I could show him an income of +$2,500 a year there was to be no talk of engagement. +What is more, he said he couldn't have me +philandering about after you until there was a +reasonable prospect of that income. We talked and +argued, but he was firm. And in the end he advised +me, if I were really in earnest and serious, to +go right away, take what capital I had, and select a +new and rising country to start in. He pointed +out that there was not room enough here for two in +the lumbering business; that Dave, here, complained +of the state of trade, so what chance could I +possibly have without a tithe of his resources. +Finally, he told me to go and think out a plan, talk +it over with you, and then tell him what I had +decided upon. So here I am, and——" +</P> + +<P> +"So am I," added Betty. +</P> + +<P> +"And as I am here as well," put in Dave, "let's +talk it over now. Where are you thinking of +going?" +</P> + +<P> +"Seems to me the Yukon is the place. There's +a big rush going on. There's great talk of fabulous +fortunes there." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, fabulous," said Dave dryly. "It's a long +way. A big fare. You'll find yourself amongst +all the scum and blacklegs of this continent. You'll +be up against every proposition known to the +crook. You'll get tainted. Why not do some +ranching? Somewhere around here, toward Edmonton." +</P> + +<P> +Jim shook his head gloomily. +</P> + +<P> +"I haven't nearly enough capital." +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe I could manage it for you," said Dave +thoughtfully. "I mean it as a business proposition," +he added hastily. +</P> + +<P> +Jim's face cleared, and his ready smile broke out +like sunshine after a summer storm. +</P> + +<P> +"Would you?" he cried. "Yes, a business +proposition. Business interest. I know the very +place," he went on ardently. "Betty, wouldn't that +be bully? How would you like to be a rancher's +wife?" +</P> + +<P> +But his spirits quickly received a damper. Betty +shook her head. +</P> + +<P> +"No, Jim. Not at Dave's expense." Then she +turned to the man who had made the offer. "No, +no, Dave, old friend. Jim and I know you. This +is not business from your point of view. You added +that to disguise your kindly intention." +</P> + +<P> +"But——" Dave began to protest. +</P> + +<P> +But Betty would have none of it. +</P> + +<P> +"This is a debate," she said, with a brightness +she did not feel, "and I am speaking. Jim," she +turned gently to her lover, "we'll start fair and +square with the world. You must do as uncle says. +And you can do it. Do it yourself—yourself unaided. +God will help you—surely. You are clever; +you have youth, health and strength. I will wait +for you all my life, if necessary. You have my +promise, and it is yours until you come back to +claim me. It may be only a year or two. We +must be very, very brave. Whatever plan you decide +on, if it is the Yukon, or Siberia, or anywhere +else, I am content, and I will wait for you." +</P> + +<P> +The girl's words were so gently spoken, yet they +rang with an irrevocable decision that astonished +her hearers. Dave looked into the pretty, set face. +He had known her so long. He had seen her in +almost every mood, yet here was a fresh side to her +character he had never even suspected, and the +thought flashed through his mind, to what heights +of ambition might a man not soar with such a +woman at his side. +</P> + +<P> +Jim looked at her too. But his was a stare of +amazement, and even resentment. +</P> + +<P> +"But why, Betty?" he argued sharply. "Why +throw away a business offer such as this, when it +means almost certain success? Dave offered it himself, +and surely you will allow that he is a business +man before all things." +</P> + +<P> +"Is he?" Betty smiled. Then she turned to the +man who had made the offer. "Dave, will you do +something for me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, yes, Betty—if it's not to go and wash up +cups down there," he replied at once, with a grin. +</P> + +<P> +"No, it isn't to wash cups. It's"—she glanced +quickly at Jim, who was watching her with anything +but a lover-like stare—"it's—to withdraw that +offer." +</P> + +<P> +Dave removed his pipe and turned to Jim. +</P> + +<P> +"That ranch business is off," he said. +</P> + +<P> +Then he suddenly sat up and leant toward the +younger man. +</P> + +<P> +"Jim, boy, you know I wish you well," he said. +"I wish you so well that I understand and appreciate +Betty's decision now, though I allow I didn't +see it at first. She's right. Parson Tom is right. +I was wrong. Get right out into the world and +make her a home. Get right out and show her, and +the rest of us, the stuff you're made of. You won't +fail if you put your back into it. And when you +come back it'll be a great day for you both. And +see here, boy, so long as you run straight you can ask +me anything in the name of friendship, and I'll not +fail you. Here's my hand on it." +</P> + +<P> +Something of Dave's earnestness rather than the +girl's quiet strength seemed to suddenly catch hold +of and lift the dejected man out of his moodiness. +His face cleared and his sunny smile broke out +again. He gripped the great hand, and enthusiasm +rang in his voice. +</P> + +<P> +"By God, you're right, Dave," he cried. "You're +a good chap. Yes, I'll go. Betty," he turned to +the girl, "I'll go to the Yukon, where there's gold +for the seeking. I'll realize all the money I can. I +won't part with my mill. That will be my fall-back +if I fail. But I won't fail. I'll make money by—no, +I'll make money. And——" Suddenly, at the +height of his enthusiasm, his face fell, and the +buoyant spirit dropped from him. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, yes," broke in Betty, anxious to see his +mood last. +</P> + +<P> +Jim thought for a moment while the clouds gathered +on his face. Then he looked steadily at Dave. +</P> + +<P> +"Dave," he said, and paused. Then he began +again. "Dave—in friendship's name—I'll ask you +something now. Betty here," he swallowed, as +though what he had to say was very difficult. "You +see, I may be away a long time, you can never tell. +Will you—will you take care of her for me? Will +you be her—her guardian, as you have always been +mine? I know I'm asking a lot, but somehow I +can't leave her here, and—I know there's her uncle +and aunt. But, I don't know, somehow I'd like to +think you had given me your word that she would +be all right, that you were looking after her for me. +Will you?" +</P> + +<P> +His face and tone were both eager, and full of real +feeling. Dave never flinched as he listened to the +request, yet every word cut into his heart, lashed +him till he wondered how it was Jim could not see +and understand. He moistened his lips. He groped +in his pocket for his matches and lit one. He let +it burn out, watching it until the flame nearly +reached his fingers. Then he knocked his pipe out +on his boot, and broke it with the force he used. +Finally he looked up with a smile, and his eyes encountered +Betty's. +</P> + +<P> +She smiled back, and he turned to her lover, who +was waiting for his answer. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure I'll look after her—for you," he said slowly. +</P> + +<P> +Jim sprang to his feet. +</P> + +<P> +"I can never thank——" +</P> + +<P> +But Dave cut him short. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't thank me, boy," he said, preparing to return +to the camp. "Just—get out and do." And +he left the lovers to return at their leisure. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +AFFAIRS IN MALKERN +</H4> + +<P> +Four glowing summers have gone; a fifth is +dawning, driving before its radiant splendor the +dark shadows and gray monotony of winter's icy +pall. Malkern is a busy little town, spreading out +its feelers in the way of small houses dotted about +amidst the park land of the valley. Every year +sees a further and further extension of its boarded +sidewalks and grass-edged roadways; every year +sees its population steadily increasing; every year +sees an advancement in the architecture of its +residences, and some detail displaying additional +prosperity in its residents. +</P> + +<P> +Behind this steady growth of prosperity sits +Dave, large, quiet, but irresistible. His is the guiding +hand. The tiller of the Malkern ship is in his +grasp, and it travels the laid course without deviation +whatsoever. The harbor lies ahead, and, +come storm or calm, he drives steadily on for its +haven. +</P> + +<P> +Thus far has the man been content. Thus far +have his ambitions been satisfied. He has striven, +and gained his way inch by inch; but with that +striving has grown up in him a desire such as +inevitably comes to the strong and capable worker. +A steady success creates a desire to achieve a +master-stroke, whereby the fruit which hitherto he +has been content to pluck singly falls in a mass into +his lap. And therein lies the human nature which +so often upsets the carefully trained and drilled +method of the finest tempered brain. +</P> + +<P> +Dave saw his goal looming. He saw clearly that +all that he had worked for, hoped for, could be +gained at one stroke. That one stroke meant +capturing the great government contract for the +lumber required for building the new naval docks. +It was a contract involving millions of dollars, and, +with all the courage with which his spirit was +laden, he meant to attempt the capture. His plans +had been silently laid. No detail had been forgotten, +no pains spared. Night and day his thoughtful +brain had worked upon his scheme, and now had +come that time when he must sit back and wait for +the great moment. Nor did this great moment depend +on him, and therein lay the uncertainty, the +gamble so dear to the human heart. +</P> + +<P> +His scheme had been confided to only three people, +and these were with him now, sitting on the +veranda of the Rev. Tom Chepstow's house. The +house stood on a slightly rising ground facing out +to the east, whence a perfect view of the wide-spreading +valley was obtained. It was a modest +enough place, but trim and carefully kept. Parson +Tom's stipend was so limited and uncertain that +luxury was quite impossible; a rigid frugality was +the ruling in his small household. +</P> + +<P> +It was Saturday. The day's work was over, and +the family were watching the sunset and awaiting +the hour for supper. The parson was luxuriating in +a pipe in a well-worn deck-chair at one extremity of +the deep, wild-cucumber-covered veranda. Dave +sat near him; Mary Chepstow, the parson's wife, +was crocheting a baby's woolen jacket, stoutly +comfortable in a leather armchair; while Betty, a +little more mature in figure, a little quieter in manner, +but even prettier and more charming to look at +than she was on the day of her picnic nearly five +years ago, occupied a seat near the open French +window, ready to attend at a moment's notice to the +preparing of supper. +</P> + +<P> +Betty had been silent for quite a while. She was +staring with introspective gaze out in the direction +of the railroad depot. The two men had been discussing +the best means of raising the funds for the +building of a new church, aided by a few impracticable +suggestions from Mrs. Chepstow, who had a +way of counting her stitches aloud in the midst of +her remarks. Suddenly Betty turned to her uncle, +whose lean, angular frame was grotesquely hunched +up in his deck-chair. +</P> + +<P> +"Will old Mudley bring the mail over if the train +does come in this evening?" she inquired abruptly. +</P> + +<P> +The parson shook his head. His lean, clean-shaven +face lit with a quizzical smile as he glanced +over at his niece. +</P> + +<P> +"Why should he?" he replied. "He never does +bring mail round. Are you expecting a letter—from +him?" +</P> + +<P> +There was no self-consciousness in the girl's manner +as she replied. There was not even warmth. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no; I was wondering if I should get one +from Maud Hardwig. She promised to write me +how Lily's wedding went off in Regina. It is a +nuisance about the strike. But it's only the plate-layers, +isn't it; and it only affects the section where +they are constructing east of Winnipeg?" +</P> + +<P> +Her uncle removed his pipe. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. But it affects indirectly the whole system. +You see, they won't put on local mails from Regina. +They wait for the eastern mail to come through. +By the way, how long is it since you heard from +Jim?" +</P> + +<P> +Betty had turned away and was watching the +vanishing point of the railway track, where it +entered the valley a couple of miles away. Dave's +steady eyes turned upon her. But she didn't +answer at once, and her uncle had to call her attention. +</P> + +<P> +"Betty!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I'm sorry, uncle," she replied at once. "I +was dreaming. When did I hear? Oh, nearly nine +months ago." +</P> + +<P> +Mary Chepstow looked up with a start. +</P> + +<P> +"Nine months? Gracious, child—there, I've +done it wrong." +</P> + +<P> +Bending over her work she withdrew her hook +and started to unravel the chain she was making. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," Betty went on coldly. "Nine months +since I had a letter. But I've heard indirectly." +</P> + +<P> +Her uncle sat up. +</P> + +<P> +"You never told me," he said uneasily. +</P> + +<P> +The girl's indifference was not without its effect +on him. She never talked of Jim Truscott now. +And somehow the subject was rarely broached by +any of them. Truscott had nominally gone away +for two or three years, but they were already in the +fifth year since his departure, and there was as +yet no word of his returning. Secretly her uncle +was rather pleased at her silence on the subject. +He augured well from it. He did not think there +was to be any heart-breaking over the matter. He +had never sanctioned any engagement between +them, but he had been prepared to do so if the boy +turned up under satisfactory conditions. Now he +felt that it was time to take action in the matter. +Betty was nearly twenty-seven, and—well, he did +not want her to spend her life waiting for a man +who showed no sign of returning. +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't see the necessity," she said quietly. "I +heard of him through Dave." +</P> + +<P> +The parson swung round on the master of the +mills. His keen face was alert with the deepest interest. +</P> + +<P> +"You, Dave?" he exclaimed. +</P> + +<P> +The lumberman stirred uneasily, and Mary Chepstow +let her work lie idle in her lap. +</P> + +<P> +"Dawson—my foreman, you know—got a letter +from Mansell. You remember Mansell? He acted +as Jim's foreman at his mill. A fine sawyer, Mansell——" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, yes." Parson Tom's interest made him +impatient. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you remember that Mansell went with +Jim when he set out for the Yukon. They intended +to try their luck together. Partners, of +course. Well, Mansell wrote Dawson he was sick +to death of worrying things out up there. He said +he'd left Jim, but did not state why. He asked +him if my mill was going strong, and would there +be a job for him if he came back. He said that +Jim was making money now. He had joined a +man named Broncho Bill, a pretty hard citizen, and +in consequence he was doing better. How he was +making money he didn't say. But he finished up +his remarks about the boy by saying he'd leave him +to tell his own story, as he had no desire to put any +one away." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Chepstow offered no comment, but silently +picked up her work and went on with it. Her husband +sat back in his chair, stretching his long muscular +legs, and folding his hands behind his head. +Betty displayed not the least interest in Dave's +haltingly told story. +</P> + +<P> +The silence on the veranda was ominous. Chepstow +began to refill his pipe, furtively watching his +niece's pretty profile as she sat looking down the +valley. It was his wife who broke the oppressive +silence. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't believe badly—three treble in the adjacent +hole"—she muttered, referring to her pattern +book, "of him. I always liked him—five chain." +</P> + +<P> +"So do I," put in Dave with emphasis. +</P> + +<P> +Betty glanced quickly into his rugged face. +</P> + +<P> +"You don't believe the insinuations of that letter?" +she asked him sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't." +</P> + +<P> +Dave's reply was emphatic. Betty smiled over +at him. Then she jumped up from her seat and +pointed down the track. +</P> + +<P> +"There's the mail," she cried. Then she came +to her aunt's side and laid a hand coaxingly on her +shoulder. "Will you see to supper, dear, if I go +down for the mail?" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Chepstow would not trust herself to speak, +she was in the midst of a complicated manipulation +of the pattern she was working, so she contented +herself with a nod, and Betty was off like the wind. +The two men watched her as she sped down the +hard red sand trail, and neither spoke until a bend +in the road hid her from view. +</P> + +<P> +"She's too good a girl, Dave," Chepstow said +with almost militant warmth. "She's not going to +be made a fool of by—by——" +</P> + +<P> +"She won't be made a fool of by any one," +Dave broke in with equal warmth. "There's no +fear of it, if I'm any judge," he added. "I don't +think you realize that girl's spirit, Tom. Here, I'll +tell you something I've never told anybody. When +Jim went away Betty came to me and asked me to +let her study my mills. She wanted to learn all the +business of 'em. All the inside of the management +of 'em. If I'd have let her she'd have learnt how +to run the saws. And do you know why she did +it? I'll tell you. Because she thought Jim might +come back broke, and he and she together could start +up his old mill again, so as to win through. That's +Betty. Can you beat it? That girl has made up +her mind to a certain line of action, and she'll see +it through, no matter what her feelings may be. +No word of yours, or mine, will turn her from her +purpose. She'll wait for Jim." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and waste the best of her life," exclaimed +Mrs. Chepstow. "One, two, three—turn." +</P> + +<P> +Dave smiled over at the rotund figure crocheting +so assiduously. Although Mary Chepstow was +over forty her face still retained its youthful prettiness. +The parson laughed. He generally laughed +at his wife's views upon anything outside of her +small household and the care of the sick villagers. +But it was never an unkind laugh. Just a large, +tolerant good-nature, a pronounced feature in his +character. Parson Tom, like many kindly men, +was hasty of temper, even fiery, and being a man of +considerable athletic powers, this characteristic had, +on more than one occasion, forcibly brought some +recalcitrant member of his uncertain-tempered flock +to book, and incidentally acquired for him the sobriquet +of "the fighting parson." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know about wasting the best of her +life," he said. "Betty has never wasted her life. +Look at the school she's got now. And, mark you, +she's done it all herself. She has three teachers +under her. She has negotiated all the finance of +the school herself. She got the government by the +coat-tails and dragged national support out of it. +Why, she's a wonder. No, no, not waste, Mary. +Let her wait if she chooses. We won't interfere. +I only hope that when Jim does come back he'll be +a decent citizen. If he isn't, I'd bet my last cent +Betty will know how to deal with him." +</P> + +<P> +"She'll sure give him up, if he isn't," said Dave +with conviction. +</P> + +<P> +Mary looked up, her round blue eyes twinkling. +</P> + +<P> +"Dave knows Betty better than we do, Tom. I'd +almost think—— I'm not sure I like this shade of +pink," she digressed, examining her wool closely. +"Er—what was I saying? Oh, yes—I'd almost +think he'd made a special study of her." +</P> + +<P> +A deep flush spread slowly over Dave's ugly face, +and he tried to hide it by bending over his pipe and +examining the inside of the bowl. +</P> + +<P> +Parson Tom promptly changed the subject. He +shook his head and turned away to watch the ruddy +extravagance of the sunset in the valley. +</P> + +<P> +"Dave has got far too much to think of in his +coming government contract to bother with a girl +like Betty. By the way, when do you expect to +hear the result of your tender, Dave?" +</P> + +<P> +"Any time." +</P> + +<P> +The lumberman's embarrassment had vanished at +the mention of his contract. His eyes lit, and the +whole of his plain features were suddenly illumined. +This was his life's purpose. This contract meant +everything to him. All that had gone before, all +his labor, his early struggles, they were nothing to +the store he set by this one great scheme. +</P> + +<P> +"Good. And your chances?" There was the +keenest interest in the parson's question. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'd say they're good. You see, that find +of ours up in the hills opens a possibility we never +had before. The new docks require an enormous +supply of ninety-foot timber. It's got to be ninety-foot +stuff. Well, we've got the timber in that new +find. There's a valley of some thousands of acres +of forest which will supply it. Tom," he went on +eagerly, "we could cut 'em hundred-and-twenty-foot +logs from that forest till the cows come home. +It's the greatest proposition in lumbering. It's one +of the greatest of those great primordial pine forests +which are to be found in the Rockies, if one is +lucky enough. At present we are the only people +in Canada who can give them the stuff they need, +and enough of it. Yes, I think I'll get it. I've set +the wires pulling all I know. I've cut the price. +I've done everything I can, and I think I'll get it. +If I do I'll be a millionaire half a dozen times over, +and Malkern, and all its people, will rise to an immense +prosperity. I must get it! And having got +it, I must push it through successfully." +</P> + +<P> +Mary and her husband were hanging on the lumberman's +words, carried away by his enthusiasm. +There was that light of battle in his eyes, the firm +setting of his heavy under-jaw, which they knew +and understood so well. To them he was the personification +of resolution. To them his personality +was irresistible. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course you'll push it through successfully," +Tom nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, yes. I shall. I must," Dave said, stirring +his great body in his chair with a restlessness which +spoke of his nervous tension. "But it's this time +limit. You see, it's a government contract. They +want these naval docks built quickly. The whole +scheme is to be rushed through. Since the Imperial +Conference has decided that each colony is to +build its own share of the navy for imperial defense, +in view of the European situation, that building is +to be begun at once. They are laying down five +ships this year, and, by the end of the year, they +are to have docks ready for the laying down of six +more. My contract is for the lumber for those +docks. You see? My contract must be completed +before winter closes down, without fail. I have +guaranteed that. Well, as I am the only lumberman +in Canada that can supply this heavy lumber, +if they do not give it to me they will have to go to +the States for it. Yes," he added, with something +like a sigh, "I think I shall get it. But—this time +limit! If I fail it will break me, and, in the crash, +Malkern will go too." +</P> + +<P> +Mary Chepstow sighed with emotion. Her crochet +was forgotten. +</P> + +<P> +"You won't fail," she murmured, her eyes glistening. +"You can't!" +</P> + +<P> +"Malkern isn't going to tumble about our +ears, old friend," Parson Tom said with quiet assurance. +</P> + +<P> +Dave had fallen back into his lounging attitude +and puffed at his pipe. +</P> + +<P> +"No," he said. Then he pointed down the trail +in the direction of the depot. "There's Betty coming +along in a hurry with Jenkins Mudley." +</P> + +<P> +All eyes turned to look. Betty was almost running +beside the tall thin figure of the operator and +postmaster of Malkern. They came up with a final +rush, the man flourishing a telegram at Dave. +Betty was carrying a number of letters. +</P> + +<P> +"I just thought I'd bring this along myself," +Mudley grinned. "Everything's been delayed +through the strike down east. This, too. Felt I'd +hate to let any one else hand it to you, Dave." +</P> + +<P> +Dave snatched at the tinted envelope and tore it +open, while Betty, nodding at her uncle and aunt, +her eyes dancing with delight, made frantic signs to +them. But they took no notice of her, keeping +their eyes fixed on the towering form of the master +of the mills. Dave was the calmest man present. +He read the message over twice, and then deliberately +thrust it into his pocket. Then, as he returned +to his seat, he said—"I've got my contract, folks." +</P> + +<P> +"Hurrah!" cried Betty, no longer able to control +herself. The operator had previously imparted +the fact to her. Then, with a jump, she was on the +veranda and flung some letters into her uncle's lap, +retaining one for herself that had already been read. +The next moment she had seized both of Dave's +great hands, and was wringing them with all her +heart and soul shining in her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm so—so glad, I don't know what I'm doing +or saying," she cried, and then collapsed on her +uncle's knee. +</P> + +<P> +Dave laughed quietly, but her aunt, her face belying +her words, reproved her gently. +</P> + +<P> +"Betty," she said warningly as the girl scrambled +to her feet, "don't get excited. I think you'd +better go and see to supper. I see you got your +letter. How did the wedding go off?" +</P> + +<P> +Betty was leaning against one of the veranda +posts. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes," she said indifferently. "I'd forgotten +my letter. It's from Jim. He's coming home." +</P> + +<P> +Her aunt suddenly picked up her work. The +parson began to open his letters. Dave's eyes, +until that moment smiling, suddenly became serious. +The girl's news had a strangely damping effect. +Dave cleared his throat as though about to speak. +But he remained silent. +</P> + +<P> +Then Betty moved across to the door. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll go and get supper," she said quietly, and +vanished into the house. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +DICK MANSELL'S NEWS +</H4> + +<P> +For Dave the next fortnight was fraught with a +tremendous pressure of work. But arduous and +wearing as it was, to him there was that thrill of +conscious striving which is the very essence of life +to the ambition-inspired man. His goal loomed +dimly upon his horizon, he could see it in shadowy +outline, and every step he took now, every effort he +put forth, he knew was carrying him on, drawing +him nearer and nearer to it. He worked with that +steady enthusiasm which never rushes. He was +calm and purposeful. To hasten, to diverge from +his deliberate course in the heat of excitement, he +knew would only weaken his effort. Careful organization, +perfect, machine-like, was what he +needed, and the work would do itself. +</P> + +<P> +At the mills a large extension of the milling +floors and an added number of saws were needed. +In its present state the milling floor could hardly +accommodate the ninety-foot logs demanded by the +contract. This was a structural alteration that +must be carried out at express speed, and had been +prepared for, so that it was only a matter of executing +plans already drawn up. Joel Dawson, the +foreman, one of the best lumbermen in the country, +was responsible for the alterations. Simon Odd, +the master sawyer, had the organizing of the skilled +labor staff inside the mill, a work of much responsibility +and considerable discrimination. +</P> + +<P> +But with Dave rested the whole responsibility +and chief organization. It was necessary to secure +labor for both the mill and the camps up in the +hills. And for this the district had to be scoured, +while two hundred lumber-jacks had to be brought +up from the forests of the Ottawa River. +</P> + +<P> +Dave and his lieutenants worked all their daylight +hours, and most of the night was spent in harness. +They ate to live only, and slept only when +their falling eyelids refused to keep open. +</P> + +<P> +Only Dave and his two loyal supporters knew +the work of that fortnight; only they understood +the anxiety and strain, but their efforts were +crowned with success, and at the end of that time +the first of the "ninety-footers" floated down the +river to the mouth of the great boom that lay +directly under the cranes of the milling floor. +</P> + +<P> +It was not until that moment that Dave felt free +to look about him, to turn his attention from the +grindstone of his labors. It was midday when +word passed of the arrival of the first of the timber, +and he went at once to verify the matter for himself. +It was a sight to do his heart good. The +boom, stretching right into the heart of the mills, +was a mass of rolling, piling logs, and a small army +of men was at work upon them piloting them so as +to avoid a "crush." It was perilous, skilful work, +and the master of the mills watched with approval +the splendid efforts of these intrepid lumber-jacks. +He only waited until the rattling chains of the +cranes were lowered and the first log was grappled +and lifted like a match out of the water, and hauled +up to the milling floor. Then, with a sigh as of a +man relieved of a great strain, he turned away and +passed out of his yards. +</P> + +<P> +It was the first day for a fortnight he had gone to +his house for dinner. +</P> + +<P> +His home was a small house of weather-boarding +with a veranda all creeper-grown, as were most of +the houses in the village. It had only one story, +and every window had a window-box full of simple +flowers. It stood in a patch of garden that was +chiefly given up to vegetables, with just a small +lawn of mean-looking turf with a centre bed of +flowers. Along the top-railed fence which enclosed +it were, set at regular intervals, a number of +small blue-gum and spruce trees. It was just such +an abode as one might expect Dave to possess: +simple, useful, unpretentious. It was the house of +a man who cared nothing for luxury. Utility was +the key-note of his life. And the little trivial decorations +in the way of creepers, flowers, and such +small luxuries were due to the gentle, womanly +thought of his old mother, with whom he lived, and +who permitted no one else to minister to his wants. +</P> + +<P> +She was in the doorway when he came up, a +small thin figure with shriveled face and keen, +questioning eyes. She was clad in black, and wore +a print overall. Her snow-white hair was parted in +the middle and smoothed down flat, in the method +of a previous generation. She was an alert little +figure for all her sixty odd years. +</P> + +<P> +The questioning eyes changed to a look of gladness +as the burly figure of her son turned in at the +gate. There could be no doubt as to her feelings. +Dave was all the world to her. Her admiration for +her son amounted almost to idolatry. +</P> + +<P> +"Dinner's ready," she said eagerly. "I thought +I'd just see if you were coming. I didn't expect +you. Have you time for it, Dave?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sure, ma," he responded, stooping and kissing +her upturned face. "The logs are down." +</P> + +<P> +"Dear boy, I'm glad." +</P> + +<P> +It was all she said, but her tone, and the look +she gave him, said far more than the mere words. +</P> + +<P> +Dave placed one great arm gently about her +narrow shoulders and led her into the house. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to take an hour for dinner to-day +sure," he said, with unusual gaiety. "Just to +celebrate. After this," he went on, "for six +months I'm going to do work that'll astonish even +you, ma." +</P> + +<P> +"But you won't overdo it, Dave, will you? +The money isn't worth it. It isn't really. I've +lived a happy life without much of it, boy, and I +don't want much now. I only want my boy." +</P> + +<P> +There was a world of gentle solicitude in the old +woman's tones. So much that Dave smiled upon +her as he took his place at the table. +</P> + +<P> +"You'll have both, ma, just as sure as sure. I'm +not only working for the sake of the money. +Sounds funny to say that when I'm working to +make myself a millionaire. But it's not the money. +It's success first. I don't like being beaten, and +that's a fact. We Americans hate being beaten. +Then there's other things. Think of these people +here. They'll do well. Malkern'll be a city to be +reckoned with, and a prosperous one. Then the +money's useful to do something with. We can +help others. You know, ma, how we've talked it +all out." +</P> + +<P> +The mother helped her son to food. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I know. But your health, boy, you must +think of that." +</P> + +<P> +Dave laughed boisterously, an unusual thing with +him. But his mood was light. He felt that he +wanted to laugh at anything. What did anything +matter? By this time a dozen or so of the "ninety-footers" +were already in the process of mutilation +by his voracious saws. +</P> + +<P> +"Health, ma?" he cried. "Look at me. I +don't guess I'm pretty, but I can do the work of +any French-Canadian horse in my yards." +</P> + +<P> +The old woman shook her silvery head doubtfully. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, well, you know best," she said, "only I +don't want you to get ill." +</P> + +<P> +Dave laughed again. Then happening to glance +out of the window he saw the figure of Joe Hardwig, +the blacksmith, turning in at the gate. +</P> + +<P> +"Another plate, ma," he said hastily. "There's +Hardwig coming along." +</P> + +<P> +His mother summoned her "hired" girl, and by +the time Hardwig's knock came at the door a place +was set for him. Dave rose from the table. +</P> + +<P> +"Come right in, Joe," he said cheerily. "We're +just having grub. Ma's got some bully stew. Sit +down and join us." +</P> + +<P> +But Joe Hardwig declined, with many protestations. +He was a broad, squat little man, whose +trade was in his very manner, in the strength of his +face, and in the masses of muscle which his clothes +could not conceal. +</P> + +<P> +"The missus is wantin' me," he said. "Thank +you kindly all the same. Your servant, mam," he +added awkwardly, turning to Dave's mother. Then +to the lumberman, "I jest come along to hand you +a bit of information I guessed you'd be real glad of. +Mansell—Dick Mansell's got back! I've been +yarnin' with him. Say, guess you'll likely need +him. He's wantin' a job too. He's a bully +sawyer." +</P> + +<P> +Dave had suddenly become serious. +</P> + +<P> +"Dick Mansell!" he cried. Then, after a pause, +"Has he brought word of Jim Truscott?" +</P> + +<P> +The mother's eyes were on her son, shrewdly +speculating. She had seen his sudden gravity. +She knew full well that he cared less for Mansell's +powers as a sawyer than for Mansell as the companion +and sharer of Jim Truscott's exile. Now +she waited for the blacksmith's answer. +</P> + +<P> +Joe shifted uneasily. His great honest face +looked troubled. He had not come there to spill +dirty water. He knew how much Dave wanted +skilled hands, and he knew that Dick needed work. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, yes," he said at last. "At least—that +is——" +</P> + +<P> +"Out with it, man," cried Dave, with unusual +impatience. "How is Jim, and—how has he +done?" +</P> + +<P> +Just for an instant Joe let an appealing glance +fall in the old woman's direction, but he got no +encouragement from her. She was steadily proceeding +with her dinner. Besides, she never interfered +with her boy. Whatever he did was always +right to her. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" Dave urged the hesitating man. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I guess he's all right. That is—he ain't +hard up. Why yes, he was speakin' of him," Joe +stumbled on. "He guessed he was comin' along +down here later. That is, Jim is—you see——" +</P> + +<P> +But Dave hated prevarication. He could see +that Joe didn't want to tell what he had heard. +However he held him to it fast. +</P> + +<P> +"Has Jim been running straight?" he demanded +sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, as to that—I guess so," said Joe awkwardly. +</P> + +<P> +Dave came over to where Joe was still standing, +and laid a hand on his shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"See here, Joe, we all know you; you're a good +sportsman, and you don't go around giving folks +away—and bully for you. But I'd rather you told +me what Mansell's told you than that he should tell +me. See? It won't be peaching. I've got to hear +it." +</P> + +<P> +Joe looked straight up into his face, and suddenly +his eyes lit angrily at his own thought. "Yes, +you'd best have it," he exclaimed, all his hesitation +gone; "that dogone boy's been runnin' a wild racket. +He's laid hold of the booze and he's never done a +straight day's work since he hit the Yukon trail. +He's comin' back to here with a gambler's wad in +his pocketbook, and—and—he's dead crooked. +Leastways, that's how Mansell says. It's bin +roulette, poker an' faro. An' he's bin runnin' the +joint. Mansell says he ain't no sort o' use for him +no ways, and that he cut adrift from the boy directly +he got crooked." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, he did, did he?" said Dave, after a thoughtful +pause. "I don't seem to remember that Dick +Mansell was any saint. I'd have thought a crooked +life would have fallen in with his views, but he preferred +to turn the lad adrift when he most needed +help. However, it don't signify. So the lad's +coming back a drunkard, a gambler and a crook? +At least Dick Mansell says so. Does he say why +he's coming back?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, he s'poses it's the girl—Miss Betty." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah!" +</P> + +<P> +Joe shifted uneasily. +</P> + +<P> +"It don't seem right—him a crook," he said, with +some diffidence. +</P> + +<P> +"No." Then Dave's thoughtful look suddenly +changed to one of business alertness, and his tone +became crisp. "See here, Joe, what about that +new tackle for the mills? Those hooks and chains +must be ready in a week. Then there's those cant-hooks +for the hill camps. The smiths up there are +hard at it, so I'm going to look to you for a lot. +Then there's another thing. Is your boy Alec fit to +join the mills and take his place with the other +smiths? I want another hand." +</P> + +<P> +"Sure, he's a right good lad—an' thankee. I'll +send him along right away." The blacksmith was +delighted. He always wanted to get his boy taken +on at the mill. The work that came his way he +could cope with himself; besides, he had an assistant. +He didn't want his boy working under him; it was +not his idea of things. It was far better that he +should get out and work under strangers. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, that's settled." +</P> + +<P> +Dave turned to his dinner and Joe Hardwig took +his leave, and when mother and son were left together +again the old woman lost no time in discussing +Dick Mansell and his unpleasant news. +</P> + +<P> +"I never could bear that Mansell," she said, with +a severe shake of her head. +</P> + +<P> +"No, ma. But he's a good sawyer—and I need +such men." +</P> + +<P> +The old woman looked up quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"I was thinking of Jim Truscott." +</P> + +<P> +"That's how I guessed." +</P> + +<P> +"Well? What do you think?" +</P> + +<P> +Dave shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +"I haven't seen Jim yet," he said. "Ma, we +ain't Jim's judges." +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going down to the depot," Dave said after +a while. "Guess I've got some messages to send. +I'm getting anxious about that strike. They say +that neither side will give way. The railway is +pretty arbitrary on this point, and the plate-layers +are a strong union. I've heard that the brakesmen +and engine-drivers are going to join them. If they +do, it's going to be bad for us. That is, in a way. +Strikes are infectious, and I don't want 'em around +here just now. We've got to cut a hundred thousand +foot a day steady, and anything delaying us +means—well, it's no use thinking what it means. +We've got to be at full work night and day until +we finish. I'll get going." +</P> + +<P> +He pushed his plate away and rose from the +table. He paused while he filled and lit his pipe, +then he left the house. Joe Hardwig's news had +disturbed him more than he cared to admit, and he +did not want to discuss it, even with his mother. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER V +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +JIM TRUSCOTT RETURNS +</H4> + +<P> +Dave was on the outskirts of the village when he +fell in with Parson Tom. Tom was on ahead, but +he saw the great lumbering figure swinging along +the trail behind him, and waited. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello, Dave," he greeted him, as he came up. +"It's ages since I've seen you." +</P> + +<P> +The master of the mills laughed good-naturedly. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure," he said, "my loafing days are over. I'll +be ground hollow before I'm through. The grindstone's +good and going. It's good to be at work, +Tom. I mean what you'd call at your great work. +When I'm through you shall have the finest church +that red pine can build." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, it's good to hear you talk like that. I take +it things are running smoothly. It's not many men +who deserve to make millions, but I think you are +one of the few." +</P> + +<P> +Dave shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +"You're prejudiced about me, Tom," he replied +smiling, "but I want that money. And when I get +it we'll carry out all our schemes. You know, the +schemes we've talked over and planned and planned. +Well, when the time comes, we won't forget +'em——" +</P> + +<P> +"Like most people do. Hello!" The parson +was looking ahead in the direction of a small crowd +standing outside Harley-Smith's saloon. There +was an anxious look in his clear blue eyes, and +some comprehension. The crowd was swaying +about in unmistakable fashion, and experience told +him that a fight was in progress. He had seen so +many fights in Malkern. Suddenly he turned to +Dave— +</P> + +<P> +"Where are you going?" he inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"To the depot." +</P> + +<P> +"Good. I'll just cut along over there. That +must be stopped." +</P> + +<P> +Dave gazed at the swaying crowd. Several men +were running to join it. Then he looked down +from his great height at the slim, athletic figure of +his friend. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you want any help?" he inquired casually. +</P> + +<P> +Parson Tom shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +"No," he said, with a smile of perfect confidence. +"They're children, all simple children. Big and +awkward and unruly, if you like, but all children. I +can manage them." +</P> + +<P> +"I believe you can," said Dave. "Well, so long. +Don't be too hard on them. Remember they're +children." +</P> + +<P> +Tom Chepstow laughed back at him as he hurried +away. +</P> + +<P> +"All right. But unruly children need physical +correction as well as moral. And if it is necessary +I shan't spare them." +</P> + +<P> +He went off at a run, and Dave went on to the +depot. He knew his friend down to his very core. +There was no man in the village who was the parson's +equal in the noble art of self-defense. And it +was part of his creed to meet the rougher members +of his flock on their own ground. He knew that +this militant churchman would stop that fight, and, +if necessary, bodily chastise the offenders. It was +this wholesome manliness that had so endeared the +"fighting parson" to his people. They loved him +for his capacity, and consequently respected him +far more than they would have done the holiest +preacher that ever breathed. He was a man they +understood. +</P> + +<P> +The spiritual care of a small lumbering village is +not lightly to be entered upon. A man must be +peculiarly fitted for it. In such a place, where human +nature is always at its crudest; where muscle, +and not intellect, must always be the dominant +note; where life is lived without a thought for the +future, and the present concern is only the individual +fitness to execute a maximum of labor, and so +give expression to a savage vanity in the triumph +of brute force, the man who would set out to guide +his fellows must possess qualities all too rare in the +general run of clergy. His theology must be of the +simplest, broadest order. He must live the life of +his flock, and teach almost wholly by example. +His preaching must be lit with a local setting, and +his brush must lay on the color of his people's +every-day life. +</P> + +<P> +Besides this, he must possess a tremendous +moral and physical courage, particularly the latter, +for to the lumber-jack nothing else so appeals. He +must feel that he is in the presence of a man who is +always his equal, if not his superior, in those things +he understands. Tom Chepstow was all this. He +was a lumberman himself at heart. He knew every +detail of the craft. He had lived that life all his +manhood's days. +</P> + +<P> +Then he possessed a rare gift in medicine. He +had purposely studied it and taken his degrees, for +no one knew better than he the strength this +added to his position. He shed his healing powers +upon his people, a gift that reaped him a devotion +no sanctity and godliness could ever have brought +him. Parson Tom was a practical Christian first, +and attended only to spiritual welfare when the +body had been duly cared for. +</P> + +<P> +Dave went on to the depot, where he despatched +his messages. Then he extracted from Jenkins +Mudley all the information he possessed upon the +matter of the plate-layers' strike, and finally took the +river trail back to the mills. +</P> + +<P> +His way took him across the log bridge over the +river, and here he paused, leaning upon the rail, and +gazed thoughtfully down the woodland avenue +which enclosed the turbulent stream. +</P> + +<P> +Somehow he could never cross that bridge without +pausing to admire the wonderful beauty of his +little friend's surroundings. He always thought of +this river as his friend. How much it was his friend +only he knew. But for it, and its peculiarities, his +work would be impossible. He did not have to do +as so many lumbermen have to, depend on the +spring freshet to carry his winter cut down to his +mill. The melting snows of the mountains kept the +river flowing, a veritable torrent, during the whole +of the open season, and at such time he possessed +in it a never-failing transport line which cost him +not one cent. +</P> + +<P> +The hour he had allowed for his dinner was not +yet up, and he felt that he could indulge himself a +little longer, so he refilled his pipe and smoked +while he gazed contemplatively into the depths of +the dancing waters below him. +</P> + +<P> +But his day-dreaming was promptly interrupted, +and the interruption was the coming of Betty, on +her way home to her dinner from the schoolhouse +up on the hillside. He had seen her only once +since the day that brought him the news of +his contract. That was on the following Sunday, +when he went, as usual, to Tom Chepstow's for +supper. +</P> + +<P> +Just at that moment Betty was the last person he +wanted to see. That was his first thought when he +heard her step on the bridge. He had forgotten +that this was her way home, and that this was her +dinner-time. However, there was no sign of his +reluctance in his face when he greeted her. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Betty," he said, as gently as his great +voice would let him, "I hadn't thought to see you +coming this way." Then he broke off and studied +her pretty oval face more closely. "What's +wrong?" he inquired presently. "You look—you +look kind of tired." +</P> + +<P> +He was quite right. The girl looked pale under +her tan, and there was an unusual darkness round +her gentle brown eyes. She looked very tired, in +spite of the smile of welcome with which she +greeted him. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I'm all right, Dave," she said at once. But +her tone was cheerless, in spite of her best effort. +</P> + +<P> +He shook his great head and knocked his pipe out. +</P> + +<P> +"There's something amiss, child. Guess maybe +it's the heat." He turned his eyes up to the blazing +sun, as though to reassure himself that the heat +was there. +</P> + +<P> +Betty leant beside him on the rail. Her proximity, +and the evident sadness of her whole manner, +made him realize that he must not stay there. +At that moment she looked such a pathetic little +figure that he felt he could not long be responsible +for what he said. He longed to take her in his +arms and comfort her. +</P> + +<P> +He could think of nothing to say for a long time, +but at last he broke out with— +</P> + +<P> +"You'd best not go back to the school this afternoon." +</P> + +<P> +But the girl shook her head. +</P> + +<P> +"It's not that," she said. Then she paused. +Her eyes were fixed on the rushing water as it +flowed beneath the bridge. +</P> + +<P> +He watched her closely, and gradually a conviction +began to grow in his mind. +</P> + +<P> +"Dave," she went on at last, "we've always been +such good friends, haven't we? You've always +been so patient and kind with me when I have +bothered you with my little troubles and worries. +You never fail to help me out. It seems to me I +can never quite do without your help. I—I"—she +smiled more like her old self, and with relief the +man saw some of the alarming shadows vanishing +from her face, "I don't think I want to, either. +I've had a long talk with Susan Hardwig this morning." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah!" +</P> + +<P> +The man's growing conviction had received confirmation. +</P> + +<P> +"What did that mean?" Betty asked quickly. +</P> + +<P> +Dave was staring out down the river. +</P> + +<P> +"Just nothing. Only I've had a goodish talk +with Joe Hardwig." +</P> + +<P> +"Then I needn't go into the details. I've heard +the news that Dick Mansell has brought with him." +</P> + +<P> +It was a long time before either spoke again. +For Dave there seemed so little to say. What +could he say? Sympathy was out of the question. +He had no right to blame Jim yet. Nor did he +feel that he could hold out hope to her, for in his +heart he believed that the man's news was true. +</P> + +<P> +With Betty, she hardly knew how to express her +feelings. She hardly knew what her feelings were. +At the time Mrs. Hardwig poured her tale into her +ears she had listened quite impersonally. Somehow +the story had not appealed to her as concerning +herself, and her dominant thought had been +pity for the man. It was not until afterward, +when she was alone on her way to the school, that +the full significance of it came to her; and then it +came as a shock. She remembered, all of a sudden, +that she was promised to Jim. That when +Jim came back she was to marry him. From that +moment the matter had never been out of her +mind; through all her school hours it was with her, +and her attention had been so distracted from her +work that she found her small pupils getting out of +hand. +</P> + +<P> +Yes, she was to marry Jim, and they told her he +was a drunkard, a gambler, and a "crook." She +had given him her promise; she had sent him away. +It was her own doing. Her feelings toward him +never came into her thoughts. During the long +five years of his absence he had become a sort of +habit to her. She had never thought of her real +feelings after the first month or two of his going. +She was simply waiting for him, and would marry +him when he came. It was only now, when she +heard this story of him, that her feelings were called +upon to assert themselves, and the result was something +very like horror at her own position. +</P> + +<P> +She remembered now her disappointment at the +first realization of all her hopes, when Jim had asked +her to marry him. She had not understood then, +but now—now she did. She knew that she had +never really loved him. And at the thought of his +return she was filled with horror and dread. +</P> + +<P> +She was glad that she had met Dave; she had +longed to see him. He was the one person she +could always lean on. And in her present trouble +she wanted to lean on him. +</P> + +<P> +"Dave," she began at last, in a voice so hopeless +that it cut him to the heart, "somehow I believe +that story. That is, in the main. Don't think it +makes any difference to me. I shall marry him +just the same. Only I seem to see him in his real +light now. He was always weak, only I didn't see +it then. He was not really the man to go out into +the world to fight alone. We were wrong. I was +wrong. He should have stayed here." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," Dave nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"He must begin over again," she went on, after +a pause. "When he comes here we must help him +to a fresh start, and we must blot his past out of +our minds altogether. There is time enough. He +is young. Now I want you to help me. We must +ask him no questions. If he wants to speak he can +do so. Now that you are booming at the mills we +can help him to reopen his mill, and I know you +can, and will, help him by putting work in his way. +All this is what I've been thinking out. When he +comes, and we are—married," there was the slightest +possible hesitation before the word, and Dave's +quick ears and quicker senses were swift to hear +and interpret it, "I am going to help him with the +work. I'll give up my school. I've always had +such a contingency in my mind. That's why I got +you to teach me your work when he first went +away. Tell me, Dave, you'll help me in this. You +see the boy can't help his weakness. Perhaps we are +stronger than he, and between us we can help him." +</P> + +<P> +The man looked at her a long time in silence, and +all the while his loyal heart was crying out. His +gray eyes shone with a light she did not comprehend. +She saw their fixed smile, and only read in +them the assent he never withheld from her. +</P> + +<P> +"I knew you would," she murmured. +</P> + +<P> +It was her voice that roused him. And he spoke +just as she turned away in the direction of the +schoolhouse trail, whence proceeded the sound of +a horse galloping. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Betty—I'll help you sure," he said in his +deep voice. +</P> + +<P> +"You'll help him, you mean," she corrected, +turning back to him. +</P> + +<P> +But Dave ignored the correction. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me, Betty," he went on again, this time +with evident diffidence: "you're glad he's coming +back? You feel happy about—about getting married? +You—love him?" +</P> + +<P> +The girl stared straight up into the plain face. +Her look was so honest, so full of decision, that her +reply left no more to be said. +</P> + +<P> +"Five years ago I gave him my promise. That +promise I shall redeem, unless Jim, himself, makes +its fulfilment impossible." +</P> + +<P> +The man nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"You can come to me for anything you need for +him," he said simply. +</P> + +<P> +Betty was about to answer with an outburst of +gratitude when, with a rush, a horseman came galloping +round the bend of the trail and clattered on +to the bridge. At sight of the two figures standing +by the rail the horse jibbed, threw himself on to +his haunches, and then shied so violently that the +rider was unseated and half out of the saddle, clinging +desperately to the animal's neck to right himself. +And as he hung there struggling, the string +of filthy oaths that were hurled at the horse, and +any and everybody, was so foul that Betty tried to +stop her ears. +</P> + +<P> +Dave sprang at the horse and seized the bridle +with one hand, with the other he grabbed the +horseman and thrust him up into the saddle. The +feat could only have been performed by a man of +his herculean strength. +</P> + +<P> +"Cut that language, you gopher!" he roared +into the fellow's ears as he lifted him. +</P> + +<P> +"Cut the language!" cried the infuriated man. +"What in hell are you standing on a bridge spooning +your girl for? This bridge ain't for that sort of +truck—it's for traffic, curse you!" +</P> + +<P> +By the time the man had finished speaking he +had straightened up in the saddle, and his face was +visible to all. Dave jumped back, and Betty gave +a little cry. It was Jim Truscott! +</P> + +<P> +Yes, it was Jim Truscott, but so changed that +even Betty could scarcely believe the evidence of +her eyes. In place of the bright, clever-looking +face, the slim figure she had always had in her +mind during the long five years of his absence, she +now beheld a bloated, bearded man, without one +particle of the old refinement which had been one +of his most pronounced characteristics. It seemed +incredible that five years could have so changed +him. Even his voice was almost unrecognizable, +so husky had it become. His eyes no longer had +their look of frank honesty, they were dull and +lustreless, and leered morosely. Her heart sank as +she looked at him, and she remembered Dick Mansell's +story. +</P> + +<P> +All three stared for a moment without speaking. +Then Jim broke into a laugh so harsh that it made +the girl shudder. +</P> + +<P> +"Well I'm damned!" he cried. "Of all the +welcomes home this beats hell!" +</P> + +<P> +"Jim—oh, Jim!" +</P> + +<P> +The cry of horror and pain was literally wrung +from the girl. Nor was it without effect. The +man seemed to realize his uncouthness, for he suddenly +took off his hat, and his face became serious. +</P> + +<P> +"I beg your pardon, Betty," he said apologetically. +"I forgot where I was. I forgot that the +Yukon was behind me, and——" +</P> + +<P> +"That you're talking to the lady you're engaged +to be married to," put in Dave sharply. +</P> + +<P> +Dave's words drew the younger man's attention +to himself. For a second a malicious flash shone +in the bloated eyes. Then he dropped them and +held out his hand. +</P> + +<P> +"How do, Dave?" he said coldly. +</P> + +<P> +Dave responded without any enthusiasm. He +was chilled, chilled and horrified, and he knew that +Mansell's story was no exaggeration. He watched +Jim turn again to Betty. He saw the strained +look in the girl's eyes, and he waited. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll come along up to the house later," Jim said +coolly. "Guess I'll get along to the hotel and get +cleaned some. I allow I ain't fit for party calls at +a hog pen just about now. So long." +</P> + +<P> +He jabbed his horse's sides with his heels and +dashed across the bridge. In a moment he was +gone. +</P> + +<P> +It was some time before a word was spoken on +the bridge. Dave was waiting, and Betty could +find no words. She was frightened. She wanted +to cry, and through it all her heart felt like lead in +her bosom. But her dominant feeling was fear. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, little Betty," said Dave presently, in that +gentle protecting manner he so often assumed +toward her, "I must go on to the mills. What are +you going to do?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going home," she said; and to the keenly +sympathetic ears of the man the note of misery in +her voice was all too plain. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +PARSON TOM INTERFERES +</H4> + +<P> +It was nearly five o'clock and the table was set +for tea. Betty was standing at the window staring +thoughtfully out upon the valley. Ordinarily her +contemplation would have been one of delighted +interest, for the scene was her favorite view of the +valley, where every feature of it, the village, the +mill, the river, assumed its most picturesque aspect. +</P> + +<P> +She loved the valley with a deep affection. Unlike +most people, who tire of their childhood's +surroundings and pant for fresh sights, fresh fields +in which to expand their thoughts and feelings, she +clung to the valley with all an artist's love for the +beautiful, and a strength inspired by the loyal affection +of a simple woman. Her delight in her surroundings +amounted almost to a passion. To her +this valley was a treasured possession. The river +was a friend, a fiery, turbulent friend, and often she +had declared, when in a whimsical mood, one to +whom she could tell her innermost secrets without +fear of their being passed on, in confidence, to another, +or of having them flung back in her face +when spite stirred its tempestuous soul. +</P> + +<P> +She knew her river's shortcomings, she knew its +every mood. It was merely a torrent, a strenuous +mountain torrent, but to her it possessed a real +personality. In the spring flood it was like some +small individual bursting with its own importance, +with its vanity, with resentment at the restraint of +the iron hand of winter, from which it had only just +torn itself loose, and stirred to the depths of its +frothy soul with an overwhelming desire for self-assertion. +Often she had watched the splendid +destruction of which it was capable at such a time. +She had seen the forest giants go down at the roar +of its battle-cry. She had often joined the villagers, +standing fearful and dismayed, watching its mounting +waters lest their homes should be devoured by +the insatiable little monster, and filled with awe at +its magnificent bluster. +</P> + +<P> +Then, in the extreme heat of the late summer, +when autumn had tinged the valley to a glorious +gold and russet, she had just as often seen the +reverse side of the picture. No longer could the +river draw on the vast supplies of the melting +mountain snows, and so it was doomed to fall a +prey to the mighty grip of winter, and, as if in +anticipation of its end, it would sing its song of +sadness as it sobbed quietly over its fallen greatness, +sighing dismally amongst the debris which in the +days of its power it had so wantonly torn from its +banks. +</P> + +<P> +There was a great deal of the girl's character in +her love for the river. She possessed an enthusiastic +admiration for that strength which fights, +fights until the last drop of blood, the last atom of +power is expended. Fallen greatness evoked her +enthusiasm as keenly as success, only that the +enthusiasm was of a different nature. With her it +was better to have striven with all one's might and +encountered disaster than to have lived fallow, a life +of the most perfect rectitude. Her twenty-seven +years of life had set her thrilling with a mental and +physical virility which was forever urging her, and +steadily moulding her whole outlook upon life, even +though that outlook carried her no farther than the +confines of her beautiful sunlit valley. +</P> + +<P> +Something of this was stirring within her now. +She was not thinking of that which her eyes looked +upon. She was thinking of the man to whom she +had given her promise, her woman's promise, which +carries with it all the best a woman has to give. +She was no weakling, dreaming regretfully of all +that might have been; she had no thought of retracting +because in her heart she knew she had +made a mistake. She was reviewing the man as +she had seen him that noon, and considering the +story of his doings as she had been told them, +quietly making up her mind to her own line of +action. +</P> + +<P> +He was presently to come up to her home to +have tea with them, and she would be given the +opportunity of seeing the man that five years' +absence in the wilds had made of him. Once or +twice she almost shuddered as the details of their +meeting on the bridge obtruded themselves. She +tried to shut them out. She understood the rough +side of men, for she lived amongst a people in +whom it was difficult enough to trace even a semblance +of gentleness. She allowed for the moment +of provocation when the man's horse had shied and +unseated him. She realized the natural inclination +it would inspire to forcibly, even if irresponsibly, +protest. Even the manner of his protest she condoned. +But his subsequent attitude, his appearance, +and his manner toward herself, these were +things which had an ugly tone, and for which she +could find no extenuation. +</P> + +<P> +However, it should all be settled that afternoon. +She unfolded and straightened out a piece of paper +she had been abstractedly crumpling in her hand. +She glanced at the unsteady writing on it, a writing +she hardly recognized as Jim's. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"Will come up to tea this afternoon. Sorry for +this morning.—JIM." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +That was the note he had sent her soon after she +had reached home. There was no word of affection +in it. Nothing but a bare statement and an apology +which scarcely warranted the name. To her it +seemed to have been prompted by the man's +realization of an unpleasant and undesired duty to +be performed. The few letters she had received +from him immediately before his return had borne +a similar tone of indifference, and once or twice she +had felt that she ought to write and offer him his +freedom. This, however, she had never done, feeling +that by doing so she might be laying herself +open to misinterpretation. No, if their engagement +were distasteful to him, it must be Jim who +broke it. Unlike most women, she would rather he +threw her over than bear the stigma of having +jilted him. She had thought this all out very carefully. +She had an almost mannish sense of honor, +just as she possessed something of a man's courage +to carry out her obligations. +</P> + +<P> +She glanced over the tea-table. There were four +places set. The table was daintily arranged, and +though the china was cheap, and there was no display +of silver, or any elaborate furnishings, it +looked attractive. The bread and butter was delicate, +the assortment of home-made cakes luscious, +the preserves the choicest from her aunt's store-cupboard. +Betty had been careful, too, that the +little sitting-room, with its simple furniture and unpretentious +decorations, should be in the nicest +order. She had looked to everything so that +Jim's welcome should be as cordial as kindly hearts +could make it. And now she was awaiting his +coming. +</P> + +<P> +The clock on the sideboard chimed five, and a +few moments later her uncle came in. +</P> + +<P> +"What about tea, Betty?" he inquired, glancing +with approval at the careful preparations for the +meal. +</P> + +<P> +"I think we ought to wait," she replied, with a +wistful smile into his keen blue eyes. "I sent word +to Jim for five o'clock—but—well, perhaps something +has detained him." +</P> + +<P> +"No doubt," observed the parson dryly. "I +dare say five minutes added on to five years means +nothing to Jim." +</P> + +<P> +He didn't approve the man's attitude at all. All +his ideas on the subject of courtship had been outraged +at his delay in calling. He had been in the +village nearly five hours. +</P> + +<P> +The girl rearranged the teacups. +</P> + +<P> +"You mustn't be hard on him," she said quietly. +"He had to get cleaned up and settled at the hotel. +I don't suppose he'd care to come here like—like——" +</P> + +<P> +"It doesn't take a man five hours to do all that," +broke in her uncle, with some warmth. Then, as +he faced the steady gaze of the girl's brown eyes, +he abruptly changed his tone and smiled at her. +"Yes, of course we'll wait. We'll give him half an +hour's grace, and then—I'll fetch him." +</P> + +<P> +Betty smiled. There was a characteristic snap in +the parson's final declaration. The militant character +of the man was always very near the surface. +He was the kindest and best of men, but anything +suggesting lack of straightforwardness in those from +whom he had a right to expect the reverse never +failed to rouse his ire. +</P> + +<P> +For want of something better to do Betty was +carrying out a further rearrangement of the tea-table, +and presently her uncle questioned her +shrewdly. +</P> + +<P> +"You don't seem very elated at Jim's return?" +he said. +</P> + +<P> +"I am more than pleased," she replied gravely. +</P> + +<P> +Parson Tom took up his stand at the window +with his back turned. +</P> + +<P> +"When I was engaged to your aunt," he said, +smiling out at the valley, "if I had been away for +five years and suddenly returned, she would probably +have had about three fits, a scene of shrieking hysteria, +and gone to bed for a week. By all of which +I mean she would have been simply crazy with delight. +It must be the difference of temperament, +eh?" He turned round and stood smiling keenly +across at the girl's serious face. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, uncle, I don't think I am demonstrative." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you want to marry him?" +</P> + +<P> +The man's eyes were perfectly serious now. +</P> + +<P> +"I am going to marry him—unless——" +</P> + +<P> +"Unless?" +</P> + +<P> +"Unless he refuses to marry me." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you want to marry him, my dear? That +was my question." +</P> + +<P> +Her uncle had crossed over to her and stood +looking down at her with infinite tenderness in his +eyes. She returned his gaze, and slowly a smile +replaced her gravity. +</P> + +<P> +"You are very literal, uncle," she said gently. +"If you want an absolutely direct reply it is +'Yes.'" +</P> + +<P> +But her uncle was not quite satisfied. +</P> + +<P> +"You—love him?" he persisted. +</P> + +<P> +But this catechism was too much for Betty. She +was devoted to her uncle, and she knew that his +questions were prompted by the kindliest motives. +But in this matter she felt that she was entirely +justified in thinking and acting for herself. +</P> + +<P> +"You don't quite understand," she said, with just +a shade of impatience. "Jim and I are engaged, +and you must leave us to settle matters ourselves. +If you press me I shall speak the plain truth, and +then you will have a wrong impression of the +position. I perfectly understand my own feelings. +I am not blinded by them. I shall act as I think +best, and you must rely on my own judgment. I +quite realize that you want to help me. But +neither you nor any one else can do that, uncle. +Ah, here is auntie," she exclaimed, with evident +relief. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Chepstow came in. She was hot from her +work in the kitchen, where she was operating, with +the aid of her "hired" girl, a large bake of cakes +for the poorer villagers. She looked at the clock +sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, it's half-past five and no tea," she exclaimed, +her round face shining, and her gentle eyes +wide open. "Where's Jim? Not here? Why, I +am astonished. Betty, what are you thinking of?—and +after five years, too." +</P> + +<P> +"Betty hasn't got him in proper harness yet," +laughed the parson, but there was a look in his eyes +which was not in harmony with his laugh. +</P> + +<P> +"Harness? Don't be absurd, Tom." Then she +turned to Betty. "Did you tell him five?" +</P> + +<P> +Tom Chepstow picked up his hat, and before the +girl could answer he was at the door. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to fetch him," he said, and was gone +before Betty's protest reached him. +</P> + +<P> +"I do wish uncle wouldn't interfere," the girl +said, as her aunt laughed at her husband's precipitate +exit. +</P> + +<P> +"Interfere, my dear!" she exclaimed. "You +can't stop him. He's got a perverted notion that +we women are incapable of taking care of ourselves. +He goes through life determined to fight our battles. +Determined to help us out when we don't need it. +He's helped me 'out' all our married life. He +spends his life doing it, and I often wish he'd—he'd +leave me 'in' sometimes. I've never seen a man +who could upset a woman's plans more completely +than your uncle, and all with the best intention. +One of these days I'll start to help him out, and +then we'll see how he likes it," she laughed good-humoredly. +"You know, if he finds Jim he's sure +to upset the boy, and he'll come back thinking he's +done his duty by you. Poor Tom, and he does +mean so well." +</P> + +<P> +"I know he does, auntie, and that's why we +all love him so. Everybody loves him for it, +He never thinks of himself. It's always others, +and——" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, my dear, you're right. But all the same I +think he's right just now. Why isn't Jim here? +Why didn't he come straight away? Why has he +been in Malkern five hours before he comes to see +you? Betty, my child, I've not said a word all +these years. I've left you to your own affairs +because I know your good sense; but, in view of +the stories that have reached us about Jim, I feel +that the time has come for me to speak. Are you +going to verify those stories?" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Chepstow established her comfortable form +in a basket chair, which audibly protested at the +weight it was called upon to bear. She folded her +hands in her lap, and, assuming her most judicial +air, waited for the girl's answer. Betty was thinking +of her meeting with Jim on the bridge. +</P> + +<P> +"I shall hear what he has to say," she said decidedly, +after a long pause. +</P> + +<P> +Her aunt stared. +</P> + +<P> +"You're going to let him tell you what he likes?" +she cried in astonishment. +</P> + +<P> +"He can tell me what he chooses, or—he need +tell me nothing." +</P> + +<P> +Her aunt flushed indignantly. +</P> + +<P> +"You will never be so foolish," she said, exasperated. +</P> + +<P> +"Auntie, if Uncle Tom had been away five years, +would you ask him for proof of his life all that +time?" Betty demanded with some warmth. +</P> + +<P> +The other stirred uneasily. +</P> + +<P> +"That depends," she said evasively. +</P> + +<P> +"No, no, auntie, it doesn't. You would never +question uncle. You are a woman, and just as +foolish and stupid about that sort of thing as the +rest of us. We must take our men on trust. They +are men, and their lives are different from ours. We +cannot judge them, or, at any rate, we would rather +not. Why does a woman cling to a scoundrelly +husband who ill-treats her and makes her life one +long round of worry, and even misery? Is it because +she simply has to? No. It is because he is +her man. He is hers, and she would rather have +his unkindness than another man's caresses. Foolish +we may be, and I am not sure but that we +would rather be foolish—where our men are concerned. +Jim has come back. His past five years +are his. I am going to take up my little story +where it was broken five years ago. The stories I +have heard are nothing to me. So, if you don't +mind, dear, we will close the subject." +</P> + +<P> +"And—and you love him?" questioned the elder +woman. +</P> + +<P> +But the girl had turned to the window. She +pointed out down the road in the direction of the +village. +</P> + +<P> +"Here is uncle returning," she said, ignoring the +question. "He's hurrying. Why—he's actually +running!" +</P> + +<P> +"Running?" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Chepstow bustled to the girl's side, and both +stood watching the vigorous form of the parson +racing up the trail. Just as he came to the veranda +they turned from the window and their eyes met. +Betty's were full of pained apprehension, while her +aunt's were alight with perplexed curiosity. Betty +felt that she knew something of the meaning of her +uncle's undignified haste. She did not actually +interpret it, she knew it meant disaster, but the +nature of that disaster never entered into her thought. +Something was wrong, she knew instinctively; and, +with the patience of strength, she made no attempt +to even guess at it, but simply waited. Her aunt +rushed at the parson as he entered the room and +flung aside his soft felt hat. Betty gazed mutely at +the flaming anger she saw in his blue eyes, as his +wife questioned him. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it?" she demanded. "What has +happened?" +</P> + +<P> +Parson Tom drew a chair up to the table and +flung himself into it. +</P> + +<P> +"We'll have tea," he said curtly. +</P> + +<P> +His wife obediently took her seat. +</P> + +<P> +"And Jim?" she questioned. +</P> + +<P> +The angry blue eyes still flashed. +</P> + +<P> +"We won't wait for him." +</P> + +<P> +Then Betty came to the man's side and laid one +small brown hand firmly on his shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"You—you saw him?" she demanded. +</P> + +<P> +Her uncle shook her hand off almost roughly. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—I saw him," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"And why isn't he here?" the girl persisted +without a tremor, without even noticing his rebuff. +</P> + +<P> +"Because he's lying on his bed at the hotel—drunk. +Blind drunk,—confound him." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE WORK AT THE MILLS +</H4> + +<P> +It was sundown. The evening shadows, long +drawn out, were rapidly merging into the purple +shades of twilight. The hush of night was stealing +upon the valley. +</P> + +<P> +There was one voice alone, one discordant note, +to jar upon the peace of Nature's repose. It was +the voice of Dave's mills, a voice that was never +silent. The village, with all its bustling life, its +noisy boarding-houses, its well-filled drinking +booths, its roystering lumber-jacks released from +their day's toil, was powerless to disturb that repose. +But the harsh voice of the driving machinery rose +dominant above all other sounds. Repose was impossible, +even for Nature, where the restless spirit +of Dave's enterprise prevailed. +</P> + +<P> +The vast wooden structures of the mills, acres of +them, stood like some devouring growth at the very +core of Nature's fair body. It almost seemed like a +living organism feeding upon all the best she had to +yield. Day and night the saws, like the gleaming +fangs of a voracious life, tore, devoured, digested, +and the song of its labors droned without ceasing. +</P> + +<P> +Controlling, directing, ordering to the last detail, +Dave sat in his unpretentious office. Love of the +lumberman's craft ran hot in his veins. He had +been born and bred to it. He had passed through +its every phase. He was a sawyer whose name +was historical in the forests of Oregon. As a cant-hook +man he had few equals. As foreman he could +extract more work from these simple woodsman +giants than could those he employed in a similar +capacity. +</P> + +<P> +In work he was inevitable. His men knew that +when he demanded they must yield. In this direction +he displayed no sympathy, no gentleness. He +knew the disposition of the lumber-jack. These +woodsmen rate their employer by his driving +power. They understand and expect to be ruled by +a stern discipline, and if this treatment is not forthcoming, +their employer may just as well abandon +his enterprise for all the work they will yield him. +</P> + +<P> +But though this was Dave in his business, it was +the result of his tremendous force of character +rather than the nature of the man. If he drove, it +was honestly, legitimately. He paid for the best a +man could give him, and he saw that he got it. +Sickness was sure of ready sympathy, not outspoken, +but practical. He was much like the prairie +man with his horse. His beast is cared for far +better than its master cares for himself, but it must +work, and work enthusiastically to the last ounce of +its power. Fail, and the horse must go. So it +was with Dave. The man who failed him would +receive his "time" instantly. There was no question, +no excuse. And every lumber-jack knew this +and gladly entered his service. +</P> + +<P> +Dave was closeted with his foreman, Joel Dawson, +receiving the day's report. +</P> + +<P> +"The tally's eighty thousand," Dawson was saying. +</P> + +<P> +Dave looked up from his books. His keen, +humorous eyes surveyed the man's squat figure. +</P> + +<P> +"Not enough," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"She's pressing hard now," came the man's +rejoinder, almost defensively. +</P> + +<P> +"She's got to do twenty thousand more," +retorted Dave finally. +</P> + +<P> +"Then y'll have to give her more saw room." +</P> + +<P> +"We'll see to it. Meanwhile shove her. How +are the logs running? Is Mason keeping the +length?" +</P> + +<P> +"Guess he cayn't do better. We ain't handled +nothin' under eighty foot." +</P> + +<P> +"Good. They're driving down the river fast?" +</P> + +<P> +"The boom's full, an' we're workin' 'em good an' +plenty." The man paused. "'Bout more saw +beds an' rollers," he went on a moment later. +"Ther' ain't an inch o' space, boss. We'll hev to +build." +</P> + +<P> +Dave shook his head and faced round from his +desk. +</P> + +<P> +"There's no time. You'll have to take out the +gang saws and replace them for log trimming." +</P> + +<P> +Dawson spat into the spittoon. He eyed the +ugly, powerful young features of his boss speculatively +while he made a swift mental calculation. +</P> + +<P> +"That'll mebbe give us eight thousand more. +'Tain't enough, I guess," he said emphatically. +"Say, there's that mill up river. Her as belongs +to Jim Truscott. If we had her runnin' I 'lows +we'd handle twenty-five thousand on a day and +night shift. Givin' us fifty all told." +</P> + +<P> +Dave's eyes lit. +</P> + +<P> +"I've thought of that," he said. "That'll put us +up with a small margin. I'll see what can be +done. How are the new boys making? I've had +a good report from Mason up on No. 1 camp. +He's transferred his older hands to new camps, and +has the new men with him. He's started to cut on +Section 80. His estimate is ten million in the +stump on that cut; all big stuff. He's running a +big saw-gang up there. The roads were easy making +and good for travoying, and most of the timber +is within half a mile of the river. We don't need +to worry about the 'drive.' He's got the stuff +plenty, and all the 'hands' he needs. It's the mill +right here that's worrying." +</P> + +<P> +Dawson took a fresh chew. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, it's the mill, I guess," he said slowly. +"That an' this yer strike. We're goin' to feel it—the +strike, I mean. The engineers and firemen are +going 'out,' I hear, sure." +</P> + +<P> +"That doesn't hit us," said Dave sharply. But +there was a keen look of inquiry in his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't it?" Dawson raised his shaggy eyebrows. +</P> + +<P> +"Our stuff is merely to be placed on board +here. The government will see to its transport." +</P> + +<P> +The foreman shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +"What o' them firemen an' engineers in the +mill? Say, they're mostly union men, an'——" +</P> + +<P> +"I see." Dave became thoughtful. +</P> + +<P> +"Guess that ain't the only trouble neither," +Dawson went on, warming. "Strikes is hell-fire +anyways. Ther' ain't no stoppin' 'em when they +git good an' goin'. Ther's folk who'd hate work +wuss'n pizin when others, of a different craft, are +buckin'. I hate strikes, anyway, an' I'll feel a sight +easier when the railroaders quits." +</P> + +<P> +"You're alarming yourself without need," Dave +said easily, closing his books and rising from his +seat. "Guess I'll get to supper. And see you +remember I look to you to shove her. Are you +posting the 'tally'?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sure. They're goin' up every shift." +</P> + +<P> +A few minutes later the foreman took his departure +to hand over to Simon Odd, who ran the +mills at night. Dave watched him go. Then, instead +of going off to his supper, he sat down again. +</P> + +<P> +Dawson's warning was not without its effect on +him, in spite of the easy manner in which he had +set it aside. If his mills were to be affected by the +strike it would be the worst disaster that could +befall—short of fire. To find himself with millions +of feet coming down the river on the drive and no +possibility of getting it cut would mean absolute +ruin. Yes, it was a nasty thought. A thought so +unpleasant that he promptly set it aside and turned +his attention to more pleasant matters. +</P> + +<P> +One of the most pleasant that occurred to him +was the condition of things in the village. Malkern +had already begun to boom as the first result of his +sudden burst of increased work. Outside capital +was coming in for town plots, and several fresh +buildings were going up. Addlestone Chicks, the +dry-goods storekeeper, was extending his premises +to accommodate the enormous increase in his +trade. Two more saloons were being considered, +both to be built by men from Calford, and the +railroad had promised two mails a day instead of +one. +</P> + +<P> +Dave thought of these things with the satisfaction +of a man who is steadily realizing his ambitions. It +only needed his success for prosperity to come +automatically to the village in the valley. That was +it, his success. This thought brought to his mind +again the matter of Jim Truscott's mill, and this, +again, set him thinking of Jim himself. +</P> + +<P> +He had seen nothing of Jim since his meeting +with him on the bridge, and the memory of that +meeting was a dark shadow in his recollection. +Since that time two days had passed, two days spent +in arduous labor, when there had been no time for +more than a passing thought for anything else. +He had seen no one outside of his mills. He had +seen neither Betty nor her uncle; no one who +could tell him how matters were going with the +prodigal. He felt somehow that he had been neglectful, +he felt that he had wrongfully allowed himself +to be swamped in the vortex of the whirling +waters of his labors. He had purposely shut out +every other consideration. +</P> + +<P> +Now his mind turned upon Betty, and he suddenly +decided to take half an hour's respite and +visit Harley-Smith's saloon. He felt that this +would be the best direction in which to seek Jim +Truscott. Five years ago it would have been different. +</P> + +<P> +He rose from his seat and stretched his cumbersome +body. Young as he was, he felt stiff. His +tremendous effort was making itself felt. Picking +up his pipe he lit it, and as he dropped the charred +end of the match in the spittoon a knock came at the +door. It opened in answer to his call, and in the +half-light of the evening he recognized the very +man whom he had just decided to seek. +</P> + +<P> +It was Jim Truscott who stood in the doorway +peering into the darkened room. And at last his +searching eyes rested on the enormous figure of the +lumberman. Dave was well in the shadow, and +what light came in through the window fell full upon +the newcomer's face. +</P> + +<P> +In the brief silence he had a good look at him. +He saw that now he was clean-shaven, that his hair +had been trimmed, that his clothes were good and +belonged to the more civilized conditions of city +life. He was good-looking beyond a doubt; a face, +he thought, to catch a young girl's fancy. There +was something romantic in the dark setting of the +eyes, the keen aquiline nose, the broad forehead. +It was only the lower part of the face that he found +fault with. There was that vicious weakness about +the mouth and chin, and it set him pondering. +There were the marks of dissipation about the eyes +too, only now they were a hundredfold more pronounced. +Where before the rounded cheeks had +once so smoothly sloped away, now there were +puffings, with deep, unwholesome furrows which, in +a man of his age, had no right to be there. +</P> + +<P> +Jim was the first to speak, and his manner was +almost defiant. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" he ejaculated. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" responded Dave; and the newly-opened +waters suddenly froze over again. +</P> + +<P> +They measured each other, eye to eye. Both +had the memory of their meeting two days ago +keenly alive in their thought. Finally Jim broke +into a laugh that sounded harshly. +</P> + +<P> +"After five years' absence your cordiality is overwhelming," +he said. +</P> + +<P> +"I seem to remember meeting you on the bridge +two days ago," retorted Dave. +</P> + +<P> +Then he turned to his desk and lit the lamp. +The mill siren hooted out its mournful cry. Its +roar was deafening, and answered as an excuse for +the silence which remained for some moments between +the two men. When the last echo had died +out Truscott spoke again. Evidently he had availed +himself of those seconds to decide on a more conciliatory +course. +</P> + +<P> +"That's nerve-racking," he said lightly. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, if your nerves aren't in the best condition," +replied Dave. Then he indicated a chair and +both men seated themselves. +</P> + +<P> +Truscott made himself comfortable and lit a cigar. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Dave," he said pleasantly, "after five years +I return here to find everybody talking of you, of +your work, of the fortune you are making, of the +prosperity of the village—which, by the way, is credited +to your efforts. You are the man of the moment +in the valley; you are it!" +</P> + +<P> +Dave nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"Things are doing." +</P> + +<P> +"Doing, man! Why, it's the most wonderful +thing. I leave a little dozy village, and I come +back to a town thrilling with a magnificent prosperity, +with money in plenty for everybody, and on +every hand talk of investment, and dreams of fortunes +to be made. I'm glad I came. I'm glad I +left that benighted country of cold and empty +stomachs and returned to this veritable Tom Tiddler's +ground. I too intend to share in the prosperity +you have brought about. Dave, you are a +wonder." +</P> + +<P> +"I thought you'd come to talk of other matters," +said Dave quietly. +</P> + +<P> +His words had ample effect. The enthusiasm +dropped from the other like a cloak. His face lost +its smile, and his eyes became watchful. +</P> + +<P> +"You mean——" +</P> + +<P> +"Betty," said Dave shortly. +</P> + +<P> +Truscott stirred uneasily. Dave's directness was +a little disconcerting. Suddenly the latter leant +forward in his chair, and his steady eyes held his +visitor. +</P> + +<P> +"Five years ago, Jim, you went away, and, going, +you left Betty to my care—for you. That +child has always been in my thoughts, and though +I've never had an opportunity to afford her the protection +you asked of me, it has not been my fault. +She has never once needed it. You went away to +make money for her, so that when you came back +you could marry her. I remember our meeting +two days ago, and it's not my intention to say a +thing of it. I have been so busy since then that I +have seen nobody who could tell me of either her +or you, so I know nothing of how your affairs stand. +But if you've anything to say on the matter now +I'm prepared to listen. Did you make good up +there in the Yukon?" +</P> + +<P> +Dave's tone was the tone Truscott had always +known. It was kindly, it was strong with honesty +and purpose. He felt easier for it, and his relief +sounded in his reply. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't complain," he said, settling himself more +comfortably in his chair. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm glad," said Dave simply. "I was doubtful +of the experiment, but—well, I'm glad. +And——?" +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly Jim sprang to his feet and began to +pace the room. Dave watched him. He was +reading him. He was studying the nervous movements, +and interpreting them as surely as though +their meaning were written large in the plainest lettering. +It was the same man he had known five +years ago—the same, only with a difference. He +beheld the weakness he had realized before, but +now, where there had been frank honesty in all his +movements and expressions, there was a furtive +undercurrent which suggested only too clearly the +truth of the stories told about him. +</P> + +<P> +"Dave," he burst out at last, coming to a sudden +stand in front of him. "I've come to you about +Betty. I've come to you to tell you all the regret +I have at that meeting of ours on the bridge, and +all I said at the time. I want to tell you that I'm a +rotten fool and blackguard. That I haven't been +near Betty since I came back. I was to have gone +to tea that afternoon, and didn't do so because I +got blind drunk instead, and when her uncle came +to fetch me I told him to go to hell, and insulted +him in a dozen ways. I want to tell you that while +I was away I practically forgot Betty, I didn't care +for her any longer, that I scarcely even regarded +our engagement as serious. I feel I must tell you +this. And now it is all changed. I have seen her +and I want her. I love her madly, and—and I +have spoiled all my chances. She'll never speak +to me again. I am a fool and a crook—an utter +wrong 'un, but I want her. I must have her!" +</P> + +<P> +The man paused breathlessly. His words carried +conviction. His manner was passion-swept +There could be no doubt as to his sincerity, or of +the truth of the momentary remorse conveyed in +his self-accusation. +</P> + +<P> +Dave's teeth shut tight upon his pipe-stem. +</P> + +<P> +"And you did all that?" he inquired with a +tenseness that made his voice painfully harsh. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, yes, I did. Dave, you can't say any +harder things to me than I've said to myself. +When I drink there's madness in my blood that +drives me where it will." +</P> + +<P> +The other suddenly rose from his seat and +towered over him. The look on his rugged +face was one of mastery. His personality dominated +Truscott at that moment in a manner +that made him shrink before his steady, luminous +eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"How've you earned your living?" he demanded +sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm a gambler," came Jim's uneasy reply, the +truth forced from him against his will. +</P> + +<P> +"You're a drunkard and a crook?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm a fool. I told you." +</P> + +<P> +Dave accepted the admission. +</P> + +<P> +"Then for God's sake get out of this village, and +write and release Betty from her engagement. +You say you love her. Prove it by releasing her, +and be a man." +</P> + +<P> +Dave's voice rang out deep with emotion. At +that moment he was thinking of Betty, and not of +the man before him. He was not there to judge +him, his only thought was of the tragedy threatening +the girl. +</P> + +<P> +Truscott had suddenly become calm, and his +eyes had again assumed that furtive watchfulness as +he looked up into the larger man's face. He shook +his head. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't give her up," he said obstinately, after a +pause. +</P> + +<P> +Dave sat down again, watching the set, almost +savage expression of the other's face. The position +was difficult; he was not only dealing with this +man, but with a woman whose sense of duty and +honor was such that left him little hope of settling +the matter as he felt it should be settled. Finally +he decided to appeal again to the man's better nature. +</P> + +<P> +"Jim," he said solemnly, "you come here and +confess yourself a crook, and, if not a drunkard, at +least a man with a bad tendency that way. You +say you love Betty, in spite of having forgotten her +while you were away. On your conscience I ask +you, can you wilfully drag this girl, who has known +only the purest, most innocent, and God-fearing +life, into the path you admit you have been, are +treading? Can you drag her down with you? +Can you in your utter selfishness take her from a +home where she is surrounded by all that can keep +a woman pure and good? I don't believe it. That +is not the Jim I used to know. Jim, take it from +me, there is only one decent course open to you, +one honest one. Leave her alone, and go from +here yourself. You have no right to her so long as +your life is what it is." +</P> + +<P> +"But my life is going to be that no longer," +Truscott broke in with passionate earnestness. +"Dave, help me out in this. For God's sake, do. +It will be the making of me. I have money now, +and I want to get rid of the old life. I, too, want +to be decent. I do. I swear it. Give me this +chance to straighten myself. I know your influence +with her. You can get her to excuse that +lapse. She will listen to you. My God! Dave, +you don't know how I love that girl." +</P> + +<P> +While the lumberman listened his heart hardened. +He understood the selfishness, the weakness underlying +this man's passion. He understood more +than that, Betty was no longer the child she was +five years ago, but a handsome woman of perfect +moulding. And, truth to tell, he felt this sudden +reawakening of the man's passion was not worthy +of the name of the love he claimed for it, but rather +belonged to baser inspiration. But his own feelings +prevented his doing what he would like to have +done. He felt that he ought to kick the man out +of his office, and have him hunted out of the village. +But years ago he had given his promise of +help, and a promise was never a light thing with +him. And besides that, he realized his own love +for Betty, and could not help fearing that his judgment +was biassed by it. In the end he gave the +answer which from the first he knew he must give. +</P> + +<P> +"If you mean that," he said coldly, "I will do +what I can for you." +</P> + +<P> +Jim's face lit, and he held out his hand impulsively. +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks, Dave," he cried, his whole face clearing +and lighting up as if by magic. "You're a +bully friend. Shake!" +</P> + +<P> +But the other ignored the outstretched hand. +Somehow he felt he could no longer take it in +friendship. Truscott saw the coldness in his eyes, +and instantly drew his hand away. He moved +toward the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Will you see her to-night?" he asked over his +shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't say. You'll probably hear from her." +</P> + +<P> +At the door the man turned, and Dave suddenly +recollected something. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, by the way," he said, still in his coldest +manner, "I'd like to buy that old mill of yours—or +lease it. I don't mind which. How much do you +want for it?" +</P> + +<P> +Jim flashed a sharp glance at him. +</P> + +<P> +"My old mill?" Then he laughed peculiarly. +"What do you want with that?" +</P> + +<P> +The other considered for a moment. +</P> + +<P> +"My mill hasn't sufficient capacity," he said at +last. "You see, my contract is urgent. It must be +completed before winter shuts down—under an +enormous penalty. We are getting a few thousand +a day behind on my calculations. Your mill will +put me right, with a margin to spare against accidents." +</P> + +<P> +"I see." And the thoughtfulness of Truscott's +manner seemed unnecessary. He avoided Dave's +eyes. "You're under a penalty, eh? I s'pose the +government are a hard crowd to deal with?" +</P> + +<P> +Dave nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"If I fail it means something very like—ruin," he +said, almost as though speaking to himself. +</P> + +<P> +Truscott whistled. +</P> + +<P> +"Pretty dangerous, traveling so near the limit," +he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. Well? What about the mill?" +</P> + +<P> +"I must think it over. I'll let you know." +</P> + +<P> +He turned and left the office without another +word, and Dave stared after him, speechless with +surprise and disgust. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +AT THE CHURCH BAZAAR +</H4> + +<P> +Two days later brought Tom Chepstow's church +bazaar. Dave had not yet had the opportunity of +interceding with Betty and her uncle on behalf of +Jim, but to-day he meant to fulfil his obligations as +Tom's chief supporter in church affairs, and, at the +same time, to do what he could for the man he had +promised to help. +</P> + +<P> +The whole morning the valley was flooded with +a tremendous summer deluge. It was just as though +the heavens had opened and emptied their waters +upon the earth. Dave viewed the prospect with no +very friendly eye. He knew the summer rains only +too well; the possibilities of flood were well +grounded, and just now he had no desire to see the +river rise higher than it was at present. Still, as +yet there was no reason for alarm. This was the +first rain, and the glass was rising. +</P> + +<P> +By noon the clouds broke, and the barometer's +promise was fulfilled, so that, by the time he had +clad himself in his best broadcloth, he left his office +under a radiant sky. In spite of the wet under foot +it was a delight to be abroad. The air was fresh +and sparkling; the dripping trees seemed to be +studded with thousands of diamonds as the poising +rain-drops glistened in the blazing sun. The valley +rang with the music of the birds, and the health-giving +scent of the pine woods was wafted upon the +gentlest of zephyrs. Dave's soul was in perfect +sympathy with the beauties about him. To him +there could be no spot on God's earth so fair and +beautiful as this valley. +</P> + +<P> +Passing the mill on his way out of the yards he +was met by Joel Dawson, whose voice greeted him +with a note of satisfaction in it. +</P> + +<P> +"She's goin' full, boss," he said. "We set the +last saws in her this mornin' an' she's steaming +hard. Ther' ain't nothin' idle. Ther' ain't a' band' +or 'gang' left in her." +</P> + +<P> +And Dave without praise expressed his satisfaction +at the rapidity with which his orders had been +carried out. This was his way. Dawson was an +excellent foreman, and his respect for his "boss" +was largely based on the latter's capacity to extract +work out of his men. While praise might have +been pleasant to him, it would never have fallen in +with his ideas of how the mills should be run. His +pride was in the work, and to keep his respect at +concert pitch it was necessary that he should feel +that his "boss" was rather favoring him by entrusting +to him the more important part of the work. +</P> + +<P> +Dave passed out of the yards certain that nothing +would be neglected in his absence. If things +went wrong Dawson would receive no more consideration +than a common lumber-jack, and Dawson +had no desire to receive his "time." +</P> + +<P> +The Meeting House stood slightly apart from the +rest of the village. It was a large, staring frame +building, void of all pretentiousness and outward +devotional sign. The weather-boarding was painted; +at least, it had been. But the winter snows had +long since robbed it of its original terra-cotta coloring +and left its complexion a drab neutral tint. +The building stood bare, with no encompassing +fence, and its chief distinctive features were a large +doorway, a single row of windows set at regular +intervals, and a pitched roof. +</P> + +<P> +As Dave drew near he saw a considerable gathering +of men and horses about the doorway and tie-post. +He was greeted cordially as he came up. +These men were unfeignedly glad to see him, not +only because he was popular, but in the hopes that +he would show more courage than they possessed, +and lead the way within to the feminine webs being +woven for their enmeshing. +</P> + +<P> +He chatted for some moments, then, as no one +seemed inclined to leave the sunshine for the tempting +baits so carefully set out inside the building, he +turned to Jenkins Mudley— +</P> + +<P> +"Are you fellows scared of going in?" he inquired, +with his large laugh. +</P> + +<P> +Jenkins shook his head shamefacedly, while +Harley-Smith, loud and vulgar, with a staring +diamond pin gleaming in his necktie, answered for +him. +</P> + +<P> +"'Tain't that," he said. "His wife's kind o' +dep'ty for him. She's in ther' with his dollars." +</P> + +<P> +"And you?" Dave turned on him quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"Me? Oh, I ain't no use for them cirkises. Too +much tea an' cake an' kiddies to it for me. Give +me a few of the 'jacks' around an' I kind o' feel it +homely." +</P> + +<P> +"Say, they ain't got a table for 'draw' in there, +have they?" inquired Checks facetiously. "That's +what Harley-Smith needs." +</P> + +<P> +Dave smilingly shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think there's any gambling about this—unless +it's the bran tub. But that is scarcely a +gamble. It's a pretty sure thing you get bested +over it. Still, there might be a raffle, or an auction. +How would that do you, Harley-Smith?" +</P> + +<P> +The saloon-keeper laughed boisterously. He +liked being the object of interest; he liked being +noticed so much by Dave. It tickled his vulgar +vanity. But, to his disappointment, the talk was +suddenly shifted into another channel by Checks. +The dry-goods merchant turned to Dave with very +real interest. +</P> + +<P> +"Talking of 'draw,'" he said pointedly, "you +know that shanty right opposite me. It's been +empty this year an' more. Who was it lived there? +Why, the Sykeses, sure. You know it, it's got a +shingle roof, painted red." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I know," replied Dave. "It belongs to +me. I let Sykes live there because there wasn't +another house available at the time. I used to +keep it as a storehouse." +</P> + +<P> +"Sure, that's it," exclaimed Checks. "Well, +there's some one running a game there at night. +I've seen the boys going in, and it's been lit up. +Some guy is running a faro bank, or something of +the sort. My wife swears it's young Jim Truscott. +She's seen him going in for the last two nights. +She says he's always the first one in and the last to +leave." +</P> + +<P> +"Psha!" Jenkins Mudley exclaimed, with fine +scorn. "Jim ain't no gambler. I'd bet it's some +crook in from Calford. There's lots of that kidney +coming around, seeing the place is on the boom. +The bees allus gets around wher' the honey's +made." +</P> + +<P> +"Grows," suggested Checks amiably. +</P> + +<P> +Harley-Smith laughed loudly. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, bully for you," he cried sarcastically. +"Young Jim ain't no gambler? Gee! I've see +him take a thousand of the best bills out of the boys +at 'craps' right there in my bar. Gambler? Well, +I'd snigger!" +</P> + +<P> +And he illustrated his remark loudly and long. +</P> + +<P> +Dave had dropped out of the conversation at the +mention of Jim Truscott's name. He felt that he +had nothing to say. And he hoped to avoid being +again brought into it. But Jenkins had purposely +told him. Jenkins was a rigid churchman, and he +knew that Dave was also a strong supporter of +Parson Tom's. His wife had been very scandalized +at the opening of a gambling house directly opposite +their store, and he felt it incumbent upon him +to fall in with her views. Therefore he turned again +to Dave. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, what about it, Dave?" he demanded. +"What are you going to do?" +</P> + +<P> +The lumberman looked him straight in the eye +and smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"Do? Why, what all you fellows seem to be +scared to do. I'm going into this bazaar to do my +duty by the church. I'm going to hand them all +my spare dollars, and if there's any change coming, +I'll take it in dry-goods." +</P> + +<P> +But the lightness of his tone and smile had no +inspiration from his mood. He was angry; he was +disappointed. So this was the worth of Jim's +promises! This was the man who, in a perfect +fever of passion, had said that the old life of gambling +and debauchery was finished for him. And +yet he had probably left his (Dave's) office and gone +straight to a night of heavy gaming, and, if Checks +were right, running a faro bank. He knew only +too well what that meant. No man who had graduated +as a gambler in such a region as the Yukon +was likely to run a faro bank straight. +</P> + +<P> +Then a light seemed to flash through his brain, +and of a sudden he realized something that fired +the blood in his veins and set his pulses hammering +feverishly. For the moment it set his thoughts +chaotic; he could not realize anything quite clearly. +One feeling thrilled him, one wild hope. Then, +with stern self-repression, he took hold of himself. +This was neither time nor place for such weakness, +he told himself. He knew what it was. For the +moment he had let himself get out of hand. He +had for so long regarded Betty as belonging to Jim; +he had for so long shut her from his own thoughts +and only regarded her from an impersonal point of +view, that it had never occurred to him, until that +instant, that there was a possibility of her engagement +to Jim ever falling through. +</P> + +<P> +This was what had so suddenly stirred him. +Now, actuated by his sense of duty and honor, he +thrust these things aside. His loyalty to the girl, +the strength of his great love for her, would not, +even for a moment, permit him to think of himself. +Five years ago he had said good-bye to any +hopes and thoughts such as these. On that day he +had struggled with himself and won. He was not +going to destroy the effects of that victory by any +selfish thought now. His love for the girl was +there, nothing could alter that. It would remain +there, deep down in his heart, dormant but living. +But it was something more than a mere human +passion, it was something purer, loftier; something +that crystallized the human clay of his thought into +the purest diamonds of unselfishness. +</P> + +<P> +In the few moments that it took him to pass into +the Meeting House and launch himself upon his +task of furthering the cause of Tom Chepstow's +church, his mind cleared. He could not yet see +the line of action he must take if the gossip of Mr. +Addlestone Checks were true. But one thing was +plain, that gossip must not influence him until its +truth were established. Just as he was seized upon +by at least half a dozen of the women who had +wares to sell, and were bent on morally picking his +pockets, he had arrived at his decision. +</P> + +<P> +The hall was ablaze with colored stuffs. There +were festoons and banners, and rosettes and evergreen. +Every bare corner was somehow concealed. +There were drapings of royal blue and +staring white, and sufficient bunting to make a +suit of flags for a war-ship. +</P> + +<P> +All the seats and benches had been removed, and +round the walls had been erected the stalls and +booths of the saleswomen. One end of the room +was given up to a platform, on which, in the evening, +the most select of the local vocalists would +perform. Beside this was a bran tub, where one +could have a dip for fifty cents and be sure of winning +a prize worth at least five. Then there was a +fortune-telling booth on the opposite side, presided +over by a local beauty, Miss Eva Wade, whose +father was a small rancher just outside the valley. +This institution was eyed askance by many of the +women. They were not sure that fortune-telling +could safely be regarded as strictly moral. Parson +Tom was responsible for its inception, and his lean +shoulders were braced to bear the consequences. +</P> + +<P> +Dave was by no means new to church bazaars. +Any one living in a small western village must +have considerable experience of such things. They +are a form of taxation much in favor, and serve +multifarious purposes. They are at once a pleasant +social function where young people can safely meet +under the matronly eye; they keep all in close +touch with religion; they give the usually idle +something to think of and work for, and the busy +find them an addition to their burdens. They +create a sort of central bureau for the exchange of +scandal, and a ready market for trading useless +articles to people who do not desire to purchase, +but having purchased feel that the moral sacrifice +they have made is at least one step in the right +direction to make up for many backslidings in the +past. +</P> + +<P> +Dave doubtless had long since considered all +this. But he saw and appreciated the purpose underlying +it. He knew Tom Chepstow to be a +good man, and though he had little inspiration as a +churchman, he spared no pains in his spiritual +labors, and the larger portion of his very limited +stipend went in unobtrusive charity. No sick bed +ever went uncheered by his presence, and no poor +ever went without warm clothing and wholesome +food in the terrible Canadian winter so long as he +had anything to give. Therefore Dave had come +well provided with money, which he began at once +to spend with hopeless prodigality. +</P> + +<P> +The rest of the men followed in the lumberman's +wake, and soon the bustle and noise waxed furious. +They all bought indiscriminately. Dave started on +Mrs. Checks' "gentlemen's outfitters" stall. His +heart rejoiced when he sighted a pile of handkerchiefs +which the lady had specially made for him, +and which she now thrust at him with an exorbitant +price marked upon them. He bought them +all. He bought a number of shirts he could not +possibly have worn. He bought underclothing +that wouldn't have been a circumstance on his +cumbersome figure. He passed on to Louisa +Mudley's millinery stall and bought several hats, +which he promptly shed upon the various women +in his vicinity. He did his duty royally, and +bought dozens of things which he promptly gave +away. And his attentions in this matter were +quite impartial. He did it with the air of some +great good-natured schoolboy that set everybody +delighted with him, with themselves, with everything; +and the bazaar, as a result, went with a +royal, prosperous swing. Here, as in his work, his +personality carried with it the magic of success. +</P> + +<P> +At last he reached Betty's stall. She was presiding +over a hideous collection of cheap bric-à-brac. +With her usual unselfishness and desire to promote +harmony amongst the workers, and so help the +success of the bazaar, she had sacrificed herself on +the altar of duty by taking charge of the most unpopular +stall. Nobody wanted the goods she had +to sell; consequently Dave found her deserted. +She smiled up at him a little pathetically as he +came over to her. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you coming as a friend or as a customer? +Most of the visits I have received have been purely +friendly." She laughed, but Dave could see that +the natural spirit of rivalry was stirred, and she was +a little unhappy at the rush of business going on +everywhere but at her stall. +</P> + +<P> +"I come as both," he said, with that air of frank +kindliness so peculiarly his own. +</P> + +<P> +The girl's eyes brightened. +</P> + +<P> +"Then let's get to work on the customer part of +your visit first," she said at once; "the other can +wait. Now here I have a nice plate. You can +hang it in your office on the wall. You see it's +already wired. It might pass for old Worcester if +you don't let in too much light. But there, you +never have your windows washed, do you? Then +I have," she hurried on, turning to other articles, +"this. This is a shell—at least I suppose it is," +she added naïvely. "And this is a Toby jug; and +this is a pipe-rack; this is for matches; this is for a +whisk brush; and these two vases, they're real fine. +Look at them. Did you ever see such colors? +No, and I don't suppose anybody else ever did." +She laughed, and Dave joined in her laugh. +</P> + +<P> +But her laugh suddenly died out. The man +heard a woman, only a few feet away, mention Jim +Truscott's name, and he knew that Betty had heard +it too. He knew that her smiling chatter, which +had seemed so gay, so irresponsible, had all been +pretense, a pretense which had suddenly been +swept aside at the mere mention of Jim's name. +At that moment he felt he could have taken the +man up in his two strong hands and strangled him. +However, he allowed his feelings no display, but at +once took up the challenge of the saleswoman. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, Betty, there's just one thing in the world +I'm crazy about: it's bits of pots and things such as +you've got on your stall. It seems like fate you +should be running this stall. Now just get right to +it, and fetch out some tickets—a heap of 'em—and +write 'sold' on 'em, and dump 'em on all you like. +How much for the lot?" +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean, Dave?" the girl cried, her +eyes wide and questioning. +</P> + +<P> +"How much? I don't want anybody else buying +those things," Dave said seriously. "I want +'em all." +</P> + +<P> +Betty's eyes softened almost to tears. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't let you do it, Dave," she said gently. +"Not all. Some." +</P> + +<P> +But the man was not to be turned from his purpose. +</P> + +<P> +"I want 'em all," he said doggedly. "Here. +Here's two hundred dollars. That'll cover it." He +laid four bills of fifty dollars each on the stall. +"There," he added, "you can sell 'em over again +if any of the boys want to buy." +</P> + +<P> +Betty was not sure which she wanted to do, cry +or laugh. However, she finally decided on the latter +course. Dave's simple contradiction was quite +too much for her. +</P> + +<P> +"You're the most refreshing old simpleton I ever +knew," she said. "But I'll take your money—for +the church," she added, as though endeavoring to +quiet her conscience. +</P> + +<P> +Dave sighed in relief. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, that's that. Now we come to the friendly +side of my visit," he said. "I've got a heap to say +to you. Jim Truscott's been to me." +</P> + +<P> +He made his statement simply, and waited. But +no comment was forthcoming. Betty was stooping +over a box, collecting cards to place on the articles +on her stall. Presently she looked up, and her look +was an invitation for him to go on. +</P> + +<P> +The man's task was not easy. It would have +been easy enough had he not spoken with Checks +outside, but now it was all different. He had +promised his help, but in giving it he had no clear +conscience. +</P> + +<P> +He propped himself against the side-post of her +stall, and his weight set the structure shaking +perilously. +</P> + +<P> +"I've often wondered, Betty," he said, in a rumbling, +confidential tone, "if there ever was a man, +or for that matter a woman, who really understood +human nature. We all think we know a lot about +it. We size up a man, and we reckon he's good, +bad, or indifferent, and if our estimate happens to +prove, we pat ourselves, and hold our heads a shade +higher, and feel sorry for those who can't read a +man as easy as we can." +</P> + +<P> +Betty nodded while she stuck some "Sold" cards +about her stall. +</P> + +<P> +"A locomotive's a great proposition, so long as +it's on a set track. It's an all-fired nuisance without. +Guess a locomotive can do everything it +shouldn't when it gets loose of its track. My word, +I'd hate to be around with a loco up to its fool-tricks, +running loose in a city. Seems to me that's +how it is with human nature." +</P> + +<P> +Betty's brown eyes were thoughtfully contemplating +the man's ugly features. +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose you mean we all need a track to run +on?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, yes," Dave went on, brightening. +"Some of us start out in life with a ready-made +track, with 'points' we can jump if we've a notion. +Some of us have a track without 'points,' so there's +no excuse for getting off it. Some of us have to +lay down our own track, and keep right on it, building +it as we go. That's the hardest. We're bound to +have some falls. You see there's so much ballasting +needed, the ground's so mighty bumpy. I seem +to know a deal about that sort of track. I've had +to build mine, and I've fallen plenty. Sometimes +it's been hard picking myself up, and I've been +bruised and sore often. Still, I've got up, and I +don't seem no worse for falling." +</P> + +<P> +Betty's eyes were smiling softly. +</P> + +<P> +"But <i>you</i> picked yourself up, Dave, didn't you?" +she asked gently. +</P> + +<P> +"Well—not always. You see, I've got a mother. +She's helped a whole heap. You see, she's mostly +all my world, and I used to hate to hurt her by letting +her see me down. She kind of thinks I'm the +greatest proposition ever, and it tickles my vanity. +I want her to go on thinking it, as it keeps me hard at +work building that track. And now, through her, +I've been building so long that it comes easier, and +thinking of her makes me hang on so tight I don't +get falling around now. There's other fellows +haven't got a mother, or—you see, I've always had +her with me. That's where it comes in. Now, if +she'd been away from me five years, when I was +very young; you see——" +</P> + +<P> +Dave broke off clumsily. He was floundering in +rough water. He knew what he wanted to say, but +words were not too easy to him. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor Jim!" murmured Betty softly. +</P> + +<P> +Dave's eyes were on her in a moment. Her +manner was somehow different from what he had +expected. There was sympathy and womanly +tenderness in her voice; but he had expected—— +Then his thoughts went back to the time when +they had spoken of Jim on the bridge. And, +without knowing why, his pulses quickened, and +a warmth of feeling swept over him. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor Jim!" he said, after a long pause, during +which his pulses had steadied and he had become +master of his feelings again. "He's fallen a lot, +and I'm not sure it's all his fault. He always ran +straight when he was here. He was very young to +go away to a place like the Yukon. Maybe—maybe +you could pick him up; maybe you could +hold him to that track, same as mother did for me?" +</P> + +<P> +Betty was close beside him. She had moved +out of her stall and was now looking up into his +earnest face. +</P> + +<P> +"Does he want me to?" she asked wistfully. +"Do <i>you</i> think I can help him?" +</P> + +<P> +The man's hands clenched tightly. For a moment +he struggled. +</P> + +<P> +"You can," he said at last. "He wants you; +he wants your help. He loves you so, he's nearly +crazy." +</P> + +<P> +The girl gazed up at him with eyes whose question +the man tried but failed to read. It was some +seconds before her lips opened to speak again. +</P> + +<P> +But her words never came. At that moment +Addlestone Checks hurried up to them. He drew +Dave sharply on one side. His manner was mysterious +and important, and his face wore a look of +outraged piety. +</P> + +<P> +"Something's got to be done," he said in a stage +whisper. "It's the most outrageous thing I've +seen in years. Right here—right here in the house +where the parson preaches the Word! It sure +is enough to set it shakin' to its foundation. +Drunk! That's what he is—roarin', flamin', +fightin' drunk! You must do something. It's up +to you." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean? Who is drunk?" cried +Dave, annoyed at the man's Pharisaical air. +</P> + +<P> +Before he could get a reply there was a commotion +at the far end of the bazaar. Voices were +raised furiously, and everybody had flocked in that +direction. Once Dave thought he heard Chepstow's +voice raised in protest. Betty ran to his side +directly the tumult began. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Dave, what's the matter down there? I +thought I heard Jim's voice?" +</P> + +<P> +"So you did, Miss Betty," cried Checks, with sanctimonious +spleen. "So you did—the drunken——" +</P> + +<P> +"Shut up, or I'll break your neck!" cried Dave, +threatening him furiously. +</P> + +<P> +The dry-goods dealer staggered back just as +Betty's hand was gently, but firmly, laid on Dave's +upraised arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't bother, Dave," she said piteously. "I've +seen him. Oh, Jim—Jim!" And she covered her +face with her hands. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IX +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +IN DAVE'S OFFICE +</H4> + +<P> +It was the day after the bazaar. Betty had just +returned home from her school for midday dinner. +She was sitting at the open window, waiting while +her aunt set the meal. The cool green of the wild-cucumbers +covering the veranda tempered the +blistering summer heat which oppressed the valley. +The girl was looking out upon the village below +her, at the woodland slopes opposite, at the distant +narrowing of the mighty walls which bounded her +world, but she saw none of these things. She saw +nothing of the beauty, the gracious foliage, the +wonderful sunlight she loved. Her gaze was introspective. +She saw only the pictures her thoughts +conjured up. +</P> + +<P> +They were not pleasant pictures either, but they +were absorbing. She knew that she had arrived at +a crisis in her life. The scene she had witnessed at +the bazaar was still burning in her brain. The +shame stung and revolted her. The horror of it was +sickening. Jim's disgrace was complete; yet, in +spite of it, she could not help remembering Dave's +appeal for him. +</P> + +<P> +He had said that Jim needed her more than ever +now, and the thought made her uneasy, and her +tender heart urged her in a direction she knew she +must not take. It was so easy for her to condemn, +she who knew nothing of temptation. And yet her +position was so utterly impossible. Jim had been +in the village all this time and had not been near +her, that is except on this one occasion, when he +was drunk. He was evidently afraid to come near +her. He was a coward, and she hated cowards. +</P> + +<P> +He had even persuaded Dave to intercede for +him. She smiled as she thought of it. But her +smile was for Dave, and not at the other's display of +cowardice. It was not a smile of amusement either. +She only smiled at the absurdity of Dave pleading +for one whom he knew to be wholly unworthy. It +was the man's large heart, she told herself. And +almost in the same breath she found herself resenting +his kindly interference, and wishing he would +mind his own business. Why should he be always +thinking of others? Why should he not think +sometimes of himself? +</P> + +<P> +Her dreaming now became of Dave alone, and +she found herself reviewing his life as she knew it. +Her eyes grew tender, and she basked in the sunlight +of a world changed to pleasant thought. His +ugliness no longer troubled her—she no longer saw +it. She saw only the spirit inside the man, and +somehow his roughnesses of voice, manner and +appearance seemed a wholly fitting accompaniment +to it. Her thoughts of Jim had gone from her +entirely. The crisis which she was facing had +receded into the shadows. Dave became her +dominant thought, and she started when her uncle's +voice suddenly broke in upon her reverie. +</P> + +<P> +"Betty," he said, coming up behind her and +laying one lean hand upon her rounded shoulder, +"I haven't had time to speak to you about it since +the bazaar, but now I want to tell you that you can +have nothing more to do with young Truscott. He +is a thorough-paced young scoundrel and——" +</P> + +<P> +"You need say no more, uncle," the girl broke in +bitterly. "You can tell me nothing I do not +already know of him." +</P> + +<P> +"Then I trust you will send him about his +business at once," added her aunt, who had entered +the room bearing the dinner joint on a tray, just in +time to hear Betty's reply. +</P> + +<P> +Betty looked at her aunt's round, good-natured +face. For once it was cold and angry. From her +she looked up at her uncle's, and the decision she +saw in his frank eyes left her no alternative but a +direct reply. +</P> + +<P> +"I intend to settle everything this afternoon," she +said simply. +</P> + +<P> +"In what way?" inquired her uncle sharply. +</P> + +<P> +Betty rose from her seat and crossed the room to +her aunt's side. The latter, having set the dinner, +was waiting beside her chair ready to sit down as +soon as the matter should be settled. Betty placed +her arm about her stout waist, and the elder +woman's face promptly relaxed. She could never +long keep up even a pretense of severity where +Betty was concerned. +</P> + +<P> +The girl promptly addressed herself to her uncle +with all the frankness of one assured of a sympathetic +hearing. +</P> + +<P> +"You have always taught me, uncle dear, that +duty must be my first consideration in life," she +began steadily. "I have tried to live up to that, +and it has possibly made my conscience a little +over keen." Her face clouded, but the clouds +broke immediately, chased away by a plaintive smile. +"When Jim asked me to marry him five years ago I +believed I loved him. At one time I'm sure I did, +in a silly, girlish fashion. But soon after he went +away I realized that a girlish infatuation is not real +love. This knowledge I tried to hide even from +myself. I would not believe it, and for a long time +I almost managed to convince myself. That +was until Jim's letters became fewer and colder. +With his change I no longer attempted to conceal +from myself the real state of my own feelings. But +even then my conscience wouldn't let me alone. +I had promised to wait for him, and I made up my +mind that, come what might, unless he made it impossible +I would marry him." She sighed. "Well, +you know the rest. He has now made it impossible. +What his real feelings are for me," she went on with +a pathetic smile, "I have not had an opportunity +of gauging. As you know, he has not been near +me. I shall now make it my business to see him +this afternoon and settle everything. My conscience +isn't by any means easy about it, but I intend +to give him up." +</P> + +<P> +Her aunt squeezed her arm sympathetically, and +her uncle nodded his approval. +</P> + +<P> +"Where are you going to see him?" the latter +asked. "You mustn't see him alone." Then he +burst out wrathfully, "He's a blackguard, and——" +</P> + +<P> +"No, no, uncle, don't say that," Betty interrupted +him. "Surely he is to be pitied. Remember +him as he was. You cannot tell what temptations +have come his way." +</P> + +<P> +The parson's face cleared at once. His angry +outbursts were always short-lived. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sorry, Betty," he said. "My dear, you +shame me. I'm afraid that my hasty temper is +always leading to my undoing as a churchman." +The half-humorous smile which accompanied his +words passed swiftly. "Where are you going to +see him?" he again demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"Down at Dave's office," the girl replied, after a +moment's thought. +</P> + +<P> +"Eh?" Her uncle was startled; but Mary +Chepstow smiled on her encouragingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, you see," she went on, "Dave had a good +deal to do with—our engagement—in a way, +and——" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm glad Dave is going to help you through +this business," said her aunt, with a glance which +effectually kept her husband silent. "He's a dear +fellow, and—let's have our dinner—it's nearly cold." +</P> + +<P> +Aunt Mary was not brilliant, she was not meddlesome, +but she had all a woman's intuition. She +felt that enough had been said. And for some +obscure reason she was glad that Dave was to have +a hand in this matter. Nor had her satisfaction +anything to do with the man's ability to protect +her niece from possible insult. +</P> + +<P> +That afternoon Dave received an unexpected +visit. He was alone in his office, clad for hard +work, without coat, waistcoat, collar or tie. He +had no scruples in these matters. With all an +American's love of freedom he abandoned himself +to all he undertook with a whole-heartedness which +could not tolerate even the restraint of what he +considered unnecessary clothing. And just now, in +the terrific heat, all these things were superfluous. +</P> + +<P> +Betty looked particularly charming as she hurried +across the lumber-yard. She was dressed in a +spotless white cotton frock, and, under her large +sun-hat, her brown hair shone in the sunlight like +burnished copper. Without the least hesitation +she approached the office and knocked peremptorily +on the door. +</P> + +<P> +The man inside grudgingly answered the summons. +His books were occupying all his attention, +and his thoughts were filled with columns of +figures. But the moment he beheld the white, +smiling vision the last of his figures fled precipitately +from his mind. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, come right in, little Betty," he cried, +hastily setting the only available chair for her. +Then he bethought himself of his attire. "Say, +you might have let me know. Just half a minute +and I'll fix myself up." +</P> + +<P> +But the girl instantly protested. "You'll do just +as you are," she exclaimed. "Now you look like +a lumberman. And I like you best that way." +</P> + +<P> +Dave grinned and sat down a little self-consciously. +But Betty had no idea of letting any +conventionalities interfere with the matter she had +in hand. She was always direct, always single-minded, +when her decision was taken. She gave +him no time to speculate as to the object of her +visit. +</P> + +<P> +"Dave," she began seriously, "I want you to do +me a great favor." Then she smiled. "As usual," +she added. "I want you to send for Jim Truscott +and bring him here." +</P> + +<P> +Dave was on his feet in an instant and crossed to +the door. The next moment his voice roared out +to one of his foremen. It was a shout that could +have been heard across his own milling floor with +every saw shrieking on the top of its work. +</P> + +<P> +He waited, and presently Simon Odd came +hurrying across the yard. He spoke to him outside, +and then returned to the office. +</P> + +<P> +"He'll be along in a few minutes," he said. +"I've sent Odd with the buckboard." +</P> + +<P> +"Are you sure he'll come?" +</P> + +<P> +Dave smiled confidently. +</P> + +<P> +"I told Odd to bring him." +</P> + +<P> +"I hope he'll come willingly," the girl said, after +a thoughtful pause. +</P> + +<P> +"So do I," observed Dave dryly. "Well, little +girl?" +</P> + +<P> +Betty understood the inquiry, and looked him +fearlessly in the eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"You sowed your wheat on barren soil, Dave," +she said decidedly. "Your appeal for Jim has +borne no fruit." +</P> + +<P> +The man shifted his position. It was the only +sign he gave. But the fires were stirred into a +sudden blaze, and his blood ran fiercely through his +veins. +</P> + +<P> +"That's not a heap like you, Betty," was all he +said. +</P> + +<P> +"Isn't it?" The girl turned to the window. +The dirt on the glass made it difficult for her to see +out of it, but she gazed at it steadily. +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose you'll think me a mean, heartless +creature," she said slowly. "You'll think little +enough of my promises, and still less of—of my +loyalty." She paused. Then she raised her head +and turned to him again. "I cannot marry Jim. +I cannot undertake his reformation. I cannot give +up my life to a man whom I now know I never +really loved. I know you will not understand. I +know, only too well, your own lofty spirit, your absolute +unselfishness. I know that had you been in +my place you would have fulfilled your promise at +any cost. But I can't. I simply can't." +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +It was the man's only comment. But his mind +was busy. He knew Betty so well that he understood +a great deal without asking questions. +</P> + +<P> +"Aunt Mary and uncle know my decision," the +girl went on. "They know I am here, and that I +am going to see Jim in your presence. You see, I +thought if I sent for him to come to our house he +might refuse. He might insult uncle again. I +thought, somehow, it would be different with you." +</P> + +<P> +Dave nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't blame your uncle and aunt for making +you give him up," he said. "I'd have done it in +their place." +</P> + +<P> +"Yet you appealed for him?" +</P> + +<P> +Betty's eyes questioned him. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure, I promised to help him. That was before +the bazaar." +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly Betty held out her hands with a little +appealing movement. Dave wanted to seize them +and crush them in his own, but he did not stir. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me you don't think badly of me. Tell me +you do not think me a heartless, wretched woman. +I have thought and thought, and prayed for guidance. +And now it seems to me I am a thoroughly +wicked girl. But I cannot—I must not marry +him." +</P> + +<P> +The man rose abruptly from his seat. He could +no longer look into her troubled eyes and keep his +own secret. When he spoke it was with his back +to her, as he made a pretense of filling his pipe at +the tobacco jar on the table. His voice was deep +with emotion. +</P> + +<P> +"I thank God you've decided," he said. +"You've done right by everybody. And you've +shown more courage refusing him than if you'd +gone through with your promise, because you've +done it against your conscience. No, little Betty," +he went on, turning to her again with infinite kindness +in his steady eyes, "there's no one can call +you heartless, or any other cruel name—and—and +they'd better not in my hearing," he finished +up clumsily. +</P> + +<P> +A few minutes later the rattle of buckboard +wheels sounded outside, and before Betty could reply +Dave took the opportunity of going to the door. +Jim Truscott was standing outside with the gigantic +Simon Odd close behind him, much in the manner +of a warder watching his prisoner. The flicker of a +smile came and went in the lumberman's eyes at +the sight. Then his attention was held by the +anger he saw in Jim's dissipated face. He was not +a pleasant sight. His eyes were heavy and bloodshot, +and the lines about them were accentuated by +his general unwashed appearance. Even at that +distance, as they stood there facing each other, he +caught the reek of stale brandy the man exhaled. +His clothes, too, had the appearance of having +been flung on hurriedly, and the shirt and collar he +wore were plainly filthy. Altogether he was an object +for pity, and at the same time it was not possible +to feel anything for him but a profound repugnance. +</P> + +<P> +"He was abed," said the giant Odd, the moment +Dave appeared. Then with a complacent +grin, "But he guessed he'd come right along when +I told him you was kind o' busy an' needed him +important." +</P> + +<P> +But Jim's angry face flamed. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing of the sort. This damned ruffian of +yours dragged me out, blast him." +</P> + +<P> +"Cut it!" Dave warned him sharply. "There's +a lady here to see you. Come right in." +</P> + +<P> +The warning had instant effect. Truscott stepped +into the room and stood face to face with Betty. +Dave closed the door and stood aside. For a few +intense moments no word was spoken. The man +stared stupidly into the girl's unsmiling face; then +he looked across at Dave. It was Betty who finally +broke the silence. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Jim," she said kindly, "at last we meet." +She noted all the signs of dissipation in the young +face, which, but a few years ago, had been so fresh +and clean and good-looking. Now it was so different, +and, to her woman's eyes, there was more than the +mere outward signs. There was a spirit looking +out of his bloodshot eyes that she did not recognize. +It was as though the soul of the man had changed; +it had degenerated to a lower grade. There was +something unwholesome in his expression, as +though some latent brutality had been stirred into +life, and had obliterated every vestige of that clean, +boyish spirit that had once been his. +</P> + +<P> +"And," she went on, as he remained silent, "you +had to be cajoled into coming to see me." +</P> + +<P> +Still the man did not speak. Whether it was +shame that held him silent it was impossible to tell. +Probably not, for there was a steadily growing light +in his eyes that suggested thoughts of anything but +of a moral tone. He was held by her beauty—he +was held as a man is sometimes held by some ravishing +vision that appeals to his lower senses. He lost +no detail of her perfect woman's figure, the seductive +contours so wonderfully moulded. His eyes drank +in the sight, and it set his blood afire. +</P> + +<P> +Dave never turned his eyes. He too was watching. +And he understood, and resented, the storm +that was lashing through the man's veins. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you nothing to say to me after these long +years?" the girl asked again, forced to break the +desperate silence. Then the woman in her found +voice, "Oh! Jim, Jim! the pity of it. And I +thought you so strong." +</P> + +<P> +Dave clenched his hands at his sides, but made +no other movement. Then Betty's manner suddenly +changed. All the warmth died out of her +voice, and, mistress of herself again, she went +straight to her object. +</P> + +<P> +"Jim, it was I who sent for you. I asked Dave to +do this for me." +</P> + +<P> +"A word from you would have been enough," +the man said, with a sudden fire that lost nothing +of its fierce passion in the hoarse tone in which he +spoke. +</P> + +<P> +"A word from me?" There was unconscious +irony in the girl's reply. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, a word. I know. You are thinking of +when your uncle came to me; you're thinking of +our first meeting on the bridge; you're thinking of +yesterday. I was drunk. I admit it. But I'm not +always drunk. I tell you a word from you would +have been enough." +</P> + +<P> +The girl's eyes reproached him. +</P> + +<P> +"A word from me, after five years' absence? It +seems to me you should not have needed a word +from me. Jim, had you come to me, whatever +your state, poor or rich, it would have made no +difference to me. I should have met you as we +parted, ready to fulfil my pledge." +</P> + +<P> +"You mean——" +</P> + +<P> +The man's bloodshot eyes were alight. A tremendous +passion was urging him to the limits of +his restraining powers. He had almost forgotten +where he was. He had quite forgotten Dave. The +sight of this woman with her beautiful figure, her +sweet face and serious eyes, almost maddened him. +He was from the wilds, where he had long since +buried his wholesome youthful ideals. The life he +had lived had entirely deadened all lofty thought. +He only saw with a brain debased to the level of +the animal. He desired her. He madly desired +her now that he had seen her again, and he realized +that his desire was about to be thwarted. +</P> + +<P> +Betty drew back a step. The movement was +unconscious. It was the woman's instinct at the +sight of something threatening which made her draw +away from the passion she saw blazing in his eyes. +Dave silently watched the man. +</P> + +<P> +"I mean," said the girl solemnly, "that you have +made our pledge impossible. I mean," she went +on, with quiet dignity, "that I cannot marry you +now, even if you wish it. No, no," as Jim made a +sudden movement to speak, "it is quite useless to +discuss the matter further. I insisted on this meeting +to settle the matter beyond question. Dave +here witnessed our engagement, and I wished him +to witness its termination. You will be better free, +and so shall I. There could have been no happiness +in a marriage between us——" +</P> + +<P> +"But I won't give you up," the man suddenly +broke out. He had passed the narrow limits of his +restraint. His face flushed and showed blotched in +the sudden scarlet. For a second, after that first +fiery outburst, no words came. Then the torrent +flowed forth. "Is this what I went away for? Is +this what I have slaved for in the wilds of the +Yukon? Is this what I am to find now that I have +made the money you desired? No, no, you can't +get rid of me like that; you don't mean it, you +can't mean it. Betty, I want you more than anything +on earth," he rushed on, his voice dropping to +a persuasive note. "I want you, and without you +life is nothing to me. I must have you!" He +took a step forward. But it was only a step, for +the girl's steady eyes held him, and checked his +further advance. And something in her attitude +turned his mood to one of fierce protest. "What +is it that has come between us? What is it that +has changed you?" +</P> + +<P> +Betty snatched at his pause. +</P> + +<P> +"Such questions come well from you, Jim," she +said, with some bitterness. "You know the truth. +You do not need me to tell you." Her tone suddenly +let the demon in the man loose. His passion-lit +eyes lowered, and a furtive, sinister light shone +in them when he lifted them again. +</P> + +<P> +"I know. I understand," he cried. "This is an +excuse, and it serves you well." The coldness of +his voice was in painful contrast to his recent passion. +"The old story, eh? You have found some +one else. I never thought much of a woman's +promise, anyhow. I wonder who it is." Then +with a sudden vehemence. "But you shan't marry +him. Do you hear? You shan't while I am——" +</P> + +<P> +"Quit it!" +</P> + +<P> +Dave's great voice suddenly filled the room and +cut the man's threats short. +</P> + +<P> +Jim turned on him in a flash; until that moment +he had entirely forgotten the lumberman. He eyed +the giant for a second. Then he laughed cynically. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I'd forgotten you. Of course," he went +on. "I see now. I never thought of it before. I +remember, you were on the bridge together when I +first——" +</P> + +<P> +Dave had taken a couple of strides and now stood +between the two. His movement silenced the man, +while he addressed himself to Betty. +</P> + +<P> +"You're finished with him?" he inquired in a +deep, harsh voice. +</P> + +<P> +There was something so compelling about him +that Betty simply nodded. Instantly he swung +round on the younger man. +</P> + +<P> +"You'll vacate this place—quick," he said deliberately. +</P> + +<P> +The two men eyed each other for some seconds. +Truscott's look meant mischief, Dave's was calmly +determined. The latter finally stepped aside and +crossing to the door held it open. +</P> + +<P> +"I said you'll—vacate," he said sharply. +</P> + +<P> +Truscott turned and glanced at the open door. +Then he glanced at Betty, who had drawn farther +away. Finally his frigid eyes turned upon Dave's +great figure standing at the door. For an instant +a wicked smile played round his lips, and he spoke +in the same cynical tone. +</P> + +<P> +"I never thought of you in the marriage market, +Dave," he said, with a vicious laugh. "I suppose +it's only natural. Nobody ever associated you +with marriage. Somehow your manner and appearance +don't suggest it. I seem to see you handling +lumber all your life, not dandling children on +your knee. But there, you're a good catch—a +mighty good one. And I was fool enough to trust +you with my cause. Ye gods! Well, your weight +of money has done it, no doubt. I congratulate +you. She has lied to me, and no doubt she will +lie——" +</P> + +<P> +But the man, if he finished his remark at all, must +have done so to the stacks of lumber in the yards, +and to the accompaniment of the shriek of the +saws. There was no fuss. Scarcely any struggle. +Dave moved with cat-like swiftness, which in a man +of his size was quite miraculous, and in a flash Jim +Truscott was sprawling on the hard red ground on +the other side of the doorway. +</P> + +<P> +And when Dave looked round at Betty the girl's +face was covered with her hands, and she was weeping. +He stood for a second all contrition, and +clumsily fumbling for words. He believed she was +distressed at his brutal action. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sorry, little Betty," he blurted out at last. +"I'm real sorry. But I just couldn't help it." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap10"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER X +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +AN AUSPICIOUS MEETING +</H4> + +<P> +Malkern as a village had two moments in the +day when it wore the appearance of a thoroughly +busy city. At all other times there was little outward +sign to tell of the prosperity it really enjoyed. +Malkern's really bustling time was at noon, when +its workers took an hour and a half recess for the +midday meal, and at six o'clock in the evening, +when the day and night "shifts" at the mill exchanged +places. +</P> + +<P> +There was no eight-hour working day in this +lumbering village. The lumber-jacks and all the +people associated with it worked to make money, +not to earn a mere living. They had not reached +that deplorable condition of social pessimism when +the worker for a wage believes he is the man who +is making millions for an employer, who is prospering +only by his, the worker's, capacity to do. They +were working each for himself, and regarded the +man who could afford them such opportunity as an +undisguised blessing. The longer the "time" the +higher the wages, and this was their whole scheme +of life. +</P> + +<P> +Besides this, there is a certain pride of achievement +in the lumber-jack. He is not a mere automaton. +He is a man virile, strong, and of a wonderful +independence all his own. His spirits are +animal, keen of perception, keen for all the joys of +life such as he knows. He lives his life, whether in +play or work. Whether he be a sealer, a cant-hook +man, a teamster, or an axeman, his pride is in +his skill, and the rating of his skill is estimated +largely by the tally of his day's work, on which +depends the proportion of his wages. +</P> + +<P> +It was the midday dinner-hour now, and the +mill was debouching its rough tide of workers upon +the main street. Harley-Smith's bar was full of +men seeking unnecessary "appetizers." Every +boarding-house was rapidly filling with hungry +men clamoring for the ample, even luxurious meal +awaiting them. These men lived well; their work +was tremendous, and food of the best, and ample, +was needed to keep them fit. The few stores +which the village boasted were full of eager purchasers +demanding instant service lest the precious +time be lost. +</P> + +<P> +Harley-Smith's hotel abutted on the main road, +and the tide had to pass its inviting portals on their +way to the village. Usually the veranda was +empty at this time, for the regular boarders were at +dinner, and the bar claimed those who were not yet +dining. But on this occasion it possessed a solitary +occupant. +</P> + +<P> +He was sitting on a hard windsor chair, tilted +back at a dangerous angle, with his feet propped +upon the veranda rail in an attitude of ease, if not +of elegance. He was apparently quite unconcerned +at anything going on about him. His +broad-brimmed hat was tilted well forward upon +his nose, in a manner that served the dual purpose +of shading his eyes from the dazzling sunlight, and +permitting his gaze to wander whither he pleased +without the observation of the passers-by. To +give a further suggestion of indolent indifference, +he was luxuriously smoking one of Harley-Smith's +best cigars. +</P> + +<P> +But the man's attitude was a pretense. No one +passed the veranda who escaped the vigilance of +his quick eyes. He scanned each face sharply, and +passed on to the next; nor did his watchfulness +relax for one instant. It was clear he was looking +for some one whom he expected would pass that +way, and it was equally evident he had no desire to +advertise the fact. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly he pushed his hat back from his face, +and, at the same time, his feet dropped to the +boarded floor. This brought his chair on its four +legs with a jolt, and he sat bolt upright. Now he +showed the bloated young face of Jim Truscott. +There was a look in his eyes of something approaching +venomous satisfaction. He had seen the +man he was looking for, and promptly beckoned to +him. +</P> + +<P> +Dick Mansell was passing at that moment, and +his small, ferret-like eyes caught the summons. +He hesitated, nor did he come at once in response +to the other's smile of good-fellowship. +</P> + +<P> +"Dick!" Truscott said. Then he added genially, +"I was wondering if you'd come along this +way." +</P> + +<P> +Mansell nodded indifferently. His face was ill-humored, +and his small eyes had little friendliness +in them. He nodded, and was about to pass on, +but the other stayed him with a gesture. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't go," he said. "I want to speak to you. +Come up to my room and have a drink." +</P> + +<P> +He kept his voice low, but he might have saved +himself the trouble. The passing crowd were far +too intent upon their own concerns to bother with +him. The fact was his attitude was the result of +nearly forty-eight hours of hard thinking, thinking +inspired by a weak character goaded to offense by +the rough but justifiable treatment meted out to +him in Dave's office. This man's character, at no +time robust, was now morally run-down, and its +condition was like the weakly body of an unhealthy +man. It collected to itself every injurious +germ and left him diseased. His brain and nerves +were thrilling with resentment, and a desire to get +even with the "board." He was furiously determined +that Dave should remember with regret the +moment he had laid hands upon him, and that he +had come between him and the girl he had intended +to make his own. +</P> + +<P> +Mansell, stepping on to the veranda, paused and +looked the other full in the eye. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he said, after a moment's doubtful consideration, +"what is it? 'Tain't like you givin' +drink away—'specially to me. What monkey +tricks is it?" +</P> + +<P> +There was truculence in the sawyer's tone. +There was offense in his very attitude. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you coming to my room for that drink?" +</P> + +<P> +Truscott spoke quite coldly, but he knew the +curse of the man's thirst. He had reason to. +</P> + +<P> +Mansell laughed without any mirth. +</P> + +<P> +"Guess I may as well drink your brandy. It'll +taste the same as any other. Go ahead." +</P> + +<P> +His host at once led the way into the hotel and +up the stairs to his room. It was a front room on +the first floor, and comparatively luxurious. The +moment the door closed behind him Mansell took +in the details with some interest. +</P> + +<P> +"A mighty swell apartment—fer you," he observed +offensively. +</P> + +<P> +Truscott shrugged as he turned his back to pour +out drinks at the table. +</P> + +<P> +"That's my business," he said. "I pay for it, +and," he added, glancing meaningly over his +shoulder, "I can afford to pay for it—or anything +else I choose to have." +</P> + +<P> +Mansell was a fine figure of a man, and beside +him the other looked slight, even weedy. But his +face and head spoiled him. Both were small and +mean, and gave the impression of a low order of +intelligence. Yet he was reputed one of the finest +sawyers in the valley, and a man, when not on the +drink, to be thoroughly trusted. Before he went +away to the Yukon with Jim he had been a teetotaler +for two years, and on that account, and his +unrivaled powers as a sawyer, he had acted as the +other's foreman in his early lumbering enterprise. +Except, however, for those two years his past had +in it far more shadows than light. +</P> + +<P> +He grinned unpleasantly. +</P> + +<P> +"No need to ast how you came by the stuff," he +said. +</P> + +<P> +Truscott was round on him in an instant. His +eyes shone wickedly, but there was a grin about his +lips. +</P> + +<P> +"The same way you tried to come by it too, only +you couldn't keep your damned head clear. You +couldn't let this stuff alone." He handed the man +a glass of neat brandy. "You and your cursed +drink nearly ruined my chances. It wasn't your +fault you didn't. When I ran that game up in +Dawson I was a fool to take you into it. I did it +out of decency, because you had gone up there +with me, and quite against my best judgment +when I saw the way you were drinking. If you'd +kept straight you'd be in the same position as I am. +You wouldn't have returned here more or less broke +and only too ready to set rotten yarns going around +about me." +</P> + +<P> +The sawyer had taken the brandy and swallowed +it. Now he set the glass down on the table with a +vicious bang. +</P> + +<P> +"What yarns?" he demanded angrily. +</P> + +<P> +"Tchah! Hardwig's a meddling busybody. +You might have known it would come back to me +sooner or later. But I didn't bring you here to +throw these things up in your face. You brought +it on yourself. Keep a civil tongue, and if you like +to stand in I'll put you into a good thing. You're +not working? And you've got no money?" +</P> + +<P> +Truscott's questions came sharply. His plans +were clear in his mind. These points he had made +sure of already. But he wanted to approach the +matter he had in hand in what he considered the +best way in dealing with a man like Mansell. He +knew the sawyer to have scruples of a kind, that is +until they had been carefully undermined by brandy. +It was his purpose to undermine them now. +</P> + +<P> +"You seem to know a heap," Mansell observed +sarcastically. Then he became a shade more interested. +"What's the 'good thing'?" +</P> + +<P> +Jim poured some brandy out for himself, at the +same time, as though unconsciously, replenishing +the other's glass liberally. The sawyer watched him +while he waited for a reply, and suddenly a thought +occurred to his none too ready brain. +</P> + +<P> +"Drink, eh?" he laughed mockingly, as though +answering a challenge on the subject. "Drink? +Say, who's been doing the drink since you got +back? Folks says as your gal has gone right back +on you, that ther' wench as you was a-sparkin' 'fore +we lit out. An' it's clear along of liquor. They +say you're soused most ev'ry night, an' most days +too. You should git gassin'—I don't think." +</P> + +<P> +The man's mean face was alight with brutish glee. +He felt he had handed the other a pretty retort. +And in his satisfaction he snatched up his glass and +drank off its contents at a gulp. Indifferent to the +gibe, Jim smiled his satisfaction as he watched the +other drain his glass. +</P> + +<P> +"You've got no work?" he demanded, as Mansell +set it down empty. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure I ain't," the other grinned. "An'," he +added, under the warming influence of the spirit, +"I ain't worritin' a heap neither. My credit's good +with the boardin'-house boss. Y' see," he went on, +his pride of craft in his gimlet eyes, "I'm kind o' +known here for a boss sawyer. When they want +sawyers there's allus work for Dick Mansell." +</P> + +<P> +"Your credit's good?" Truscott went on, ignoring +the man's boasting. "Then you have no +money?" +</P> + +<P> +"I allows the market's kind o' low." +</P> + +<P> +Mansell's mood had become one of clumsy +jocularity under the influence of the brandy. +</P> + +<P> +"If you can get work so easily, why don't you?" +Truscott demanded, filling the two glasses again as +he spoke. +</P> + +<P> +Mansell seated himself on the bed unbidden. +</P> + +<P> +"Wal," he began expansively, "I'm kind o' holiday-makin', +as they say. Y' see," he went on with +a leer, "I worked so a'mighty hard gittin' back +from the Yukon, I'm kind o' fatigued. Savee? +Guess I'll git to work later. Say, one o' them for +me?" he finished up, pointing at the glasses. +</P> + +<P> +Truscott nodded, and Mansell helped himself +greedily. +</P> + +<P> +The former fell in with the other's mood. He +found him very easy to deal with. It was just a +question of sufficient drink. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I don't believe in work, anyway. That +is unless it happens to be my pleasure, too. I +worked hard up at Dawson, but it was my pleasure. +I made good money, too—a hell of a sight more +than you or anybody else ever had any idea of." +</P> + +<P> +"You ran a dandy game," agreed the sawyer. +</P> + +<P> +"With plenty of customers with mighty fat rolls +of money." +</P> + +<P> +Mansell nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"I was a fool to quit you," he said regretfully. +</P> + +<P> +"You were. But it isn't too late. If you aren't +yearning to work too hard." +</P> + +<P> +Truscott's smile was crafty. And, even with the +drink in him, Mansell saw and understood it. +</P> + +<P> +"Monkey tricks?" he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Monkey tricks—if you like." +</P> + +<P> +Mansell looked over at the bottle. +</P> + +<P> +"Hand us another horn of that pizen an' I'll +listen," he said. +</P> + +<P> +The other poured out the brandy readily, taking +care to be more than liberal. He watched the sawyer +drink, and then, drawing a chair forward, he sat +down. +</P> + +<P> +"What's that old mill of mine worth?" he asked +suddenly. +</P> + +<P> +They exchanged glances silently. Truscott was +watching the effect of his question, and the other +was trying to fathom the meaning of it. +</P> + +<P> +"I'd say," Mansell replied slowly, giving up the +puzzle and waiting for enlightenment—"I'd say, to a +man who needs it bad, it's worth anything over +fifteen thousand dollars. Fer scrappin', I'd say it +warn't worth but fi' thousand." +</P> + +<P> +"I was thinking of a man needing it." +</P> + +<P> +"Fifteen thousand an' over." +</P> + +<P> +Truscott leant forward in his chair and became +confidential. +</P> + +<P> +"Dave wants to buy that mill, and I'm going to +sell it to him," he said impressively. "I'll take +twenty thousand for it, and get as much more as I +can. See? Now I don't want that money. I +wouldn't care to handle his money. I've got plenty, +and the means of making heaps more if I need it." +</P> + +<P> +He paused to let his words sink in. Mansell +nodded with his eyes on the brandy bottle. As +yet he did not see the man's drift. He did not see +where he came in. He waited, and Truscott went on. +</P> + +<P> +"Now what would you be willing to do for that +twenty thousand—or more?" he asked smilingly. +</P> + +<P> +The other turned his head with a start, and, for +one fleeting second, his beady eyes searched his +companion's face. He saw nothing there but quiet +good-nature. It was the face of the old Jim Truscott—used +to hide the poisoned mind behind it. +</P> + +<P> +"Give me a drink," Mansell demanded roughly. +"This needs some thinkin'." +</P> + +<P> +Truscott handed him the bottle, and watched him +while he drank nearly half a tumbler of the raw +spirit. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" +</P> + +<P> +Mansell breathed heavily. +</P> + +<P> +"Seems to me I'd do—a heap," he said at last. +</P> + +<P> +"Would you take a job as sawyer in Dave's mill, +and—and act under my orders?" +</P> + +<P> +"It kind o' depends on the orders." For some +reason the lumberman became cautious. The price +was high—almost too high for him. +</P> + +<P> +Truscott suddenly rose from his seat, and crossing +the room, turned the key in the door. Then +he closed the window carefully. He finally glanced +round the room, and came back to his seat. Then, +leaning forward and lowering his tone, he detailed +carefully all that the lumberman would have to do +to earn the money. It took some time in the telling, +but at last he sat back with a callous laugh. +</P> + +<P> +"That's all it is, Dick, my boy," he cried familiarly. +"You will be as safe as houses. Not only +that, but I may not need your help at all. I have +other plans which are even better, and which may +do the job without your help. See? This is only +in case it is necessary. You see I don't want to +leave anything to chance. I want to be ready. +And I want no after consequences. You understand? +You may get the money for doing nothing. On the +other hand, what you have to do entails little +enough risk. The price is high, simply because I +do not want the money, and I want to be sure I can +rely on you." +</P> + +<P> +The man's plausibility impressed the none too +bright-witted lumberman. Then, too, the brandy +had done its work. His last scruple fled, banished +by his innate crookedness, set afire by the spirit and +the dazzling bait held out to him. It was a case of +the clever rascal dominating the less dangerous, but +more brutal, type of man. Mansell was as potter's +clay in this man's hands. The clay dry would have +been impossible to mould, but moistened, the artist +in villainy had no difficulty in handling it. And the +lubricating process had been liberally supplied. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm on," Mansell said, his small eyes twinkling +viciously. "I'm on sure. Twenty thousand! +Gee! But I'll need it all, Jim," he added greedily. +"I'll need it all, and any more you git. You +said it yourself, I was to git the lot. Yes," as +though reassuring himself, "I'm on." +</P> + +<P> +Truscott nodded approvingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Good boy," he said pleasantly. "But there's +one thing more, Dick. I make it a proviso you +don't go on any teetotal racket. I know you. +Anyway, I don't believe in the water wagon worth +a cent. It don't suit you in work like this. But +don't get drunk and act foolish. Keep on the edge. +See? Get through this racket right, and you've +got a small pile that'll fill your belly up like a distillery—after. +You'll get the stuff in a bundle the +moment you've done the work." +</P> + +<P> +Mansell reached out for the bottle without invitation, +picked it up, and put the neck to his lips. +Nor did he put it down till he had drained it. It +was the culminating point. The spirit had done +its work, and as Truscott watched him he knew +that, body and soul, the man was his. The lumberman +flung the empty bottle on the bed. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll do it, you damned crook," he cried. "I'll +do it, but not because I like you, or anything to do +with you. It's the bills I need sure—green, crisp, +crinkly bills. But I'll need fifty of 'em now. +Hand over, pard," he cried exultingly. "Hand +over, you imp of hell. I want fifty now, or I don't +stir a hand. Hand 'em——" +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly the man staggered back and fell on the +bed, staring stupidly at the shining silver-plated revolver +in the other's hands. +</P> + +<P> +"Hold your noise, you drunken hog," Jim cried +in a biting tone. "This is the sort of thing I suppose +I can expect from a blasted fool like you. +Now understand this, I'm going to give you that +fifty, not because you demand it, but to seal our +compact. And by the Holy Moses, when you've +handled it, if you attempt to play any game on me, +I'll blow you to hell quicker than any through mail +could carry you there. Get that, and let it sink into +your fool brain." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap11"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE SUMMER RAINS +</H4> + +<P> +Truscott looked up from his paper and watched +the rain as it hissed against the window. It was +falling in a deluge, driven by a gale of wind which +swept the woodlands as though bent on crushing +out the last dignity of the proud forest giants. +The sky was leaden, and held out no promise of +relenting. It was a dreary prospect, yet to the +man watching it was a matter of small moment. +</P> + +<P> +It was nearly midday, and as yet he had not +broken his fast. In fact his day was only just +beginning. His appearance told plainly the story +of his previous night's dissipation. Still, his mood +was in no way depressed—he was too well seasoned +to the vicious life he had adopted for that. Besides, +the prosperity of Malkern brought much grist +to his mill, and its quality more than made up for +the after effects of his excesses. +</P> + +<P> +He turned to his paper again. It was a day old. +A large head-line faced him announcing the spreading +of the railway strike. Below it was a column +describing how business was already affected, and +how, shortly, if a settlement were not soon arrived +at, it was feared that the trans-continental traffic +could only be kept open with the aid of military +engineers. The rest of the paper held no interests +for him; he had only read this column, and it +seemed to afford him food for much thought. He +had read it over twice, and was now reading it for +a third time. +</P> + +<P> +At last he threw the paper aside and walked +across to the table to pour himself out a drink. +The thought of food sickened him. The only +thing possible was a whiskey-and-milk, and he +mixed the beverage and held it to his lips. But +the smell of it sickened him, and he set it down +and moved away to the window. +</P> + +<P> +There was little enough to attract him thither, +but he preferred the prospect to the sight and smell +of whiskey at that hour of the day. After some +moments he made another attempt on his liquid +breakfast. He knew he must get it down somehow. +He turned and looked at it, shuddered, and +turned again to the window. And at that instant +he recognized the great figure of Dave, clad from +head to foot in oilskins, making his way back from +the depot to the mill. +</P> + +<P> +The sight fixed his attention, and all the venom +in his distorted nature shone in the wicked gleam +that sprang into his eyes. His blood was fired +with hatred. +</P> + +<P> +"Betty for you? Never in your life," he muttered +at the passing figure. "Never in mine, Dave, +my boy. It's you and me for it, and by God I'll +never let up on you!" +</P> + +<P> +All unconscious of the venomous thoughts the +sight of him had inspired, Dave strode on through +the rain. He was deep in his own concerns, and at +that moment they were none too pleasant. The +deluge of rain damped his spirits enough, but the +mail he had just received had brought him news +that depressed him still more. The Engineers' +Union had called for a general cessation of work +east of Winnipeg, and he was wondering how it +was likely to affect him. Should his engineers go +out, would it be possible to replace them? And if +he could, how would he be able to cope with the +trouble likely to ensue? He could certainly fall in +with the Union's demands, but—well, he would +wait. It was no use anticipating trouble. +</P> + +<P> +But more bad news was awaiting him when he +reached his office. Dawson, in his absence, had +opened a letter which had arrived by runner from +Bob Mason, the foreman of the camps up in the +hills. +</P> + +<P> +Dawson was no alarmist. He always looked to +Dave for everything when a crisis confronted them. +He felt that if not a crisis, something very like it +was before them now, and so he calmly handed +Mason's letter to his boss, confident in the latter's +capacity to deal with the situation. +</P> + +<P> +"This come along by hand," he said easily. +"Guess, seein' it's wrote 'important' on it, I +opened it." +</P> + +<P> +Dave nodded while he threw off his oilskins. +He made no particular haste, and deposited his +mail on his desk before he took the letter from his +foreman. At last, however, he unfolded the sheet of +foolscap on which it was written, and read the +ominous contents. It was a long letter dealing +with the business of the camps, but the one paragraph +which had made the letter important threw +all the rest into insignificance. It ran— +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"I regret to have to report that an epidemic of +mountain fever has broken out in two of our camps—the +new No. 8 and No. 1. We have already +nearly eighty cases on the sick list, chiefly amongst +the new hands from Ottawa who are not yet +acclimatized. The summer rains have been exceedingly +heavy, which in a large measure accounts +for the trouble. I shall be glad if you will send up +medical aid, and a supply of drugs, at once. +Dysentery is likely to follow, and you know what +that means. +</P> + +<P> +"We are necessarily short-handed now, but, by +increasing hours and offering inducements, and by +engaging any stray hands that filter up to the +camps, I hope to keep the work going satisfactorily. +I am isolating the sick, of course, but it +is most important that you send me the medical +aid at once," etc., etc. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Dave was silent for a while after reading the letter, +and the gravity of his expression was enhanced +by the extreme plainness of his features. His +steady eyes were looking out through the open +doorway at the mill beyond, as though it were +some living creature to whom he was bound by ties +of the deepest affection, and for whom he saw the +foreshadowing of disaster. At last he turned. +</P> + +<P> +"Damn the rain," he said impatiently. Then he +added, "I'll see to it." +</P> + +<P> +Dawson glanced quickly at his chief. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothin' I ken do, boss?" he inquired casually. +</P> + +<P> +A grim smile played over Dave's rugged features. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing, I guess," he said, "unless you can fix +a nozzle on to heaven's water-main and turn it on +to the strikers down east." +</P> + +<P> +The other shook his head seriously. +</P> + +<P> +"I ain't worth a cent in the plumbin' line, boss," +he said. +</P> + +<P> +Dawson left the office. The mill claimed him at +all times. He never neglected his charge, and +rarely allowed himself long absences beyond the +range of its strident music. The pressure of work +seemed to increase every day. He knew that the +strain on his employer was enormous, and somehow +he would have been glad if he could have shared +this new responsibility. +</P> + +<P> +Dave had just taken his slicker from the wall +again when Dawson came back to the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, ther's that feller Mansell been around this +mornin' lookin' fer a job. I sed he'd best come +around to-morrer. I didn't guess I'd take him on +till I see you. He's a drunken bum anyway." +</P> + +<P> +Dave nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"He used to be a dandy sawyer," he said, "and +we need 'em. Is he drinking now?" +</P> + +<P> +"I've heard tell. He stank o' whiskey's mornin'. +That's why I passed him on. Yes, he's a dandy +sawyer, sure. He was on the 'water wagon' 'fore +he went off up north with young Truscott. Mebbe +he'll sober up agin—if we put him to work." +</P> + +<P> +Dave clenched the matter in his decided way. +</P> + +<P> +"Put him on the 'time sheet' to-morrow, and set +him on the No. 1 rollers, beside our night office. +You can keep a sharp eye on him there. He's a +bit of a backslider, but if giving him a job'll pull +him up and help him, why, give it him. We've no +right to refuse." +</P> + +<P> +He struggled into his slicker again as Dawson +went off. He inspected the weather outside with +no very friendly eye. It meant so much to him. +At the moment the deluge was like a bursting +waterspout, and the yards were like a lake dotted +with islands of lumber. But he plunged out into it +without a moment's hesitation. His work must go +on, no matter what came. +</P> + +<P> +He hurried off in the direction of Chepstow's +house. It was some time since he had seen his +friend, and though the cause of his present visit was +so serious, he was glad of the opportunity of making it. +</P> + +<P> +Tom Chepstow saw him coming, and met him on +the veranda. He was always a man of cheery +spirits, and just now, in spite of the weather, he was +well enough satisfied with the world. Matters between +Betty and Jim Truscott had been settled just +as he could wish, so there was little to bother him. +</P> + +<P> +"I was really considering the advisability of a +telephone from here to your office, Dave," he said, +with a smiling welcome. "But joking apart, I +never seem to see you now. How's things down +there? If report says truly, you're doing a great +work." +</P> + +<P> +Dave shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +"The mills are," he said modestly. +</P> + +<P> +Chepstow laughed heartily. +</P> + +<P> +"That's your way of putting it. You and the +mills are one. Nobody ever speaks of one without +including the other. You'll never marry, my +boy. You are wedded to the shriek of your beloved +buzz-saws. Here, take off those things and +come in. We've got a drop of Mary's sloe gin +somewhere." +</P> + +<P> +They went into the parlor, and Dave removed his +oilskins. While he hung them to drain on a nail +outside, the parson poured him out a wineglass of +his wife's renowned sloe gin. He drank it down +quickly, not because he cared particularly about it, +but out of compliment to his friend's wife. Then +he set his glass down, and began to explain his +visit. +</P> + +<P> +"This isn't just a friendly visit, Tom," he said. +"It's business. Bad business. You've got to help +me out." +</P> + +<P> +The parson opened his eyes. It was something +quite new to have Dave demanding help. +</P> + +<P> +"Go ahead," he said, his keen eyes lighting with +amusement. +</P> + +<P> +Dave drew a bunch of letters from his coat +pocket. He glanced over them hastily, and picked +out Mason's and handed it to the other. In picking +it out he had discovered another letter he had +left unopened. +</P> + +<P> +"Read that," he said, while he glanced at the +address on the unopened envelope. +</P> + +<P> +The handwriting was strange to him, and while +Tom Chepstow was reading Mason's letter he tore +the other open. As he read, the gravity of his face +slowly relaxed. At last an exclamation from the +parson made him look up. +</P> + +<P> +"This is terrible, Dave!" +</P> + +<P> +"It's a bit fierce," the other agreed. "Have you +read it all?" he inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Then you've got my meaning in coming to +you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I see. I hadn't thought of it." +</P> + +<P> +Dave smiled into the other's face. +</P> + +<P> +"You're going to do it for me? It may mean +weeks. It may even mean months. You see, it's +an epidemic. At the best it might be only a couple +of weeks. They're tough, those boys. On the +other hand it might mean—anything to me." +</P> + +<P> +Chepstow nodded. He understood well enough +what an epidemic of mountain fever in his lumber +camps must mean to Dave. He understood the +conditions under which he stood with regard to his +contract. A catastrophe like that might mean +ruin. And ruin for Dave would mean ruin for +nearly all connected with Malkern. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I'll do it, Dave. Putting all friendship on +one side, it is clearly my duty. Certainly. I'll go +up there and lend all the aid I possibly can. You +must outfit me with drugs and help." +</P> + +<P> +Dave held out his hand, and the two men gripped. +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks, Tom," he said simply, although he +experienced a world of relief and gratitude. "I +wouldn't insult you with a bribe before you consented, +but when you come back there's a thumping +check for your charities lying somewhere +around my office." +</P> + +<P> +The parson laughed in his whole-hearted fashion, +while his friend once more donned his oilskins. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm always open to that sort of bribery, old +boy," he said, and was promptly answered by one +of Dave's slow smiles. +</P> + +<P> +"That's good," he said. Then he held up his +other letter, but he did not offer it to be read. +</P> + +<P> +"Betty told you what happened at my office the +other day—I mean, what happened to Jim Truscott?" +The parson's face clouded with swift +anger. +</P> + +<P> +"The ras——" +</P> + +<P> +"Just so. Yes, we had some bother; but he's +just sent me this. A most apologetic letter. He +offers to sell me his mill now. I wanted to buy it, +you know. He wants twenty thousand dollars +cash for it. I shall close the deal at once." He +laughed. +</P> + +<P> +"Hard up, I s'pose?" +</P> + +<P> +Dave shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think so. His change of front is +curious, though," he went on thoughtfully. "However, +that don't matter. I want the mill, and—I'm +going to buy. So long. I've got to go and look +at that piece of new track I'm getting laid down. +My single line to the depot isn't sufficient. I'll let +you know about starting up to the camps. I've +got a small gang of lumber-jacks coming up from +Ottawa. Maybe I'll get you to go up with them +later. Thanks, Tom." +</P> + +<P> +The two men shook hands again, and Dave departed. +</P> + +<P> +He battled his way through the driving rain to +his railroad construction, and on the road he +thought a good deal of Truscott's neglected letter. +There was something in its tone he could not convince +himself about. Why, he asked himself, +should he, so closely following on the events which +had happened in his office, deliberately turn round +and display such a Christian-like spirit? Somehow +it didn't seem to suit him. It didn't carry conviction. +Then there was the letter; its wording +was too careful. It was so deliberately careful that +it suggested a suppression of real feeling. This +was his impression, and though Dave was usually +an unsuspicious man, he could not shake it off. +</P> + +<P> +He thought of little else but that letter all the +way to his works, and after reviewing the man's +attitude from what, in his own simple honesty, he +considered to be every possible standpoint, he +finally, with a quaint, even quixotic, kindliness +assured himself that there could after all be but one +interpretation to it. The man was penitent at his +painful exhibition before Betty, and his vile accusations +against himself. That his moral strength +was not equal to standing the strain of a personal +interview. That his training up at the Yukon, +where he had learned the sordid methods of a +professional gambler, had suggested the selling of +his mill to him as a sort of peace-offering. And +the careful, stilted tone of the letter itself was due +to the difficulty of its composition. Further, he +decided to accept his offer, and do so in a cordial, +friendly spirit, and, when opportunity offered, to +endeavor, by his own moral influence, to drag him +back to the paths of honest citizenship. This was +the decision to which his generous nature prompted +him. But his head protested. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap12"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE OLD MILLS +</H4> + +<P> +When Dave reached the construction camp the +work was in full swing. The men, clad in oilskins, +paid little heed to the rain. Ahead was the gang +spreading the heavy stone gravel bed, behind it +came those laying and trimming ties. Following +close upon their heels came others engaged in +setting and bolting the rails, while hard in the rear +followed a gang leveling, checking gauge, and +ballasting. It was very rough railroad construction, +but the result was sufficient for the requirements. +It was rapid, and lacked the careful +precision of a "permanent way," but the men were +working at high pressure against time. +</P> + +<P> +Dave saw that all was well here. He exchanged +a few words with the foreman, and gave his orders. +Then he passed on, intending to return to the mill +for his buckboard. Crossing the bridge to take a +short cut, he encountered Betty driving home from +her school in her uncle's buggy. She drew up at +once. +</P> + +<P> +"Whither away, Dave?" she cried. Then she +hastily turned the dozy old mare aside, so as to +open the wheels to let the man climb in. "Come +along; don't stand there in the rain. Isn't it +awful? The river'll be flooding to-morrow if it +doesn't stop soon. Back to the mills?" +</P> + +<P> +Dave clambered into the buggy and divested +himself of his dripping oilskins. The vehicle was +a covered one, and comparatively rain-proof, even +in such a downpour. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I guess so," he said. "I'm just going +back to get my buckboard. Then I'm going up to +get a look at Jim Truscott's old mill. He's sent +word this morning to say he'll sell it me." +</P> + +<P> +The girl chirruped at the old mare, but offered +no comment. The simple process of driving over +a road nothing could have induced the parson's +faithful beast to leave seemed to demand all her +attention. +</P> + +<P> +"Did he send, or—have you seen him?" she +asked him presently. And it was plain that the +matter was of unusual interest to her. +</P> + +<P> +"I said he sent. He wrote to me—and mailed +the letter." +</P> + +<P> +"Was there anything—else in the letter?" +</P> + +<P> +The girl's tone was cold enough. Dave, watching +her, was struck by the decision in her expression. +He wanted to hear what she thought of the +letter. He was anxious to see its effect on her. +He handed it to her, and quietly took the reins out +of her hands. +</P> + +<P> +"You can read it," he said. And Betty eagerly +unfolded the paper. +</P> + +<P> +The mare plodded on, splashing solemnly and +indifferently through the torrential streams flooding +the trail, and they were nearly through the village +by the time she handed the letter back and resumed +the reins. +</P> + +<P> +"Curious. I—I don't think I understand him at +all," she said gravely. +</P> + +<P> +"It's an apology," said Dave, anxious for her to +continue. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I suppose it is." She paused. "But why +to you?" Then a whimsical smile spread over her +round face. "I thought you two were nearly +square. Now, if the apology had come to +me——" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I hadn't thought of that." +</P> + +<P> +Both sat thinking for some time. They arrived +at the point where the trail turned up to Tom +Chepstow's house. Betty ignored the turning and +kept on. +</P> + +<P> +"Is that mill worth all that money?" she asked +suddenly. +</P> + +<P> +Dave shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +"You've come too far," he said, pointing at her +uncle's house. And the girl smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"I want to have a look at the mill. Why are +you buying it at that price, Dave?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because there's no time to haggle, and—I want +it." +</P> + +<P> +Betty nodded. She was looking straight ahead, +and the man failed to see the tender light his words +had conjured in her eyes. She knew that Dave +would never have paid that money to anybody +else, no matter how much he wanted the mill. He +was doing it for Jim. However unworthy the man +was, it made no difference to his large-hearted +nature. +</P> + +<P> +The tenderness still lingered in her eyes when +she turned to him again. +</P> + +<P> +"Is Jim hard up?" she inquired. +</P> + +<P> +The frigidity of her tone was wholly at variance +with her expression. But it told plainly of her +feelings for the subject of her inquiry. Dave +shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +"From all I've heard, and from his own talk, I'd +guess not." +</P> + +<P> +Betty suddenly became very angry. She wanted +to shake somebody, even Dave, since he was the +only person near enough to be shaken. +</P> + +<P> +"He says in his letter, 'as the mill is no further +use to me,'" she cried indignantly. "Dave, your +Christian spirit carries you beyond all bounds. +You have no right to give all that money for it. It +isn't worth it anyway. You are—and he—he—oh, +I've simply no words for him!" +</P> + +<P> +"But your uncle, with due regard for his cloth, +has," Dave put in quickly. +</P> + +<P> +Betty's indignation was gone in an instant, lost +in the laugh which responded to his dry tone. +</P> + +<P> +He had no intention of making her laugh, but he +was glad she did so. It told him so much. It +reassured him of something on which he had +needed reassurance. Her parting with Jim, giving +up as it did the habit and belief of years, had troubled +him. Then in some measure he had felt himself +responsible, although he knew perfectly well +that no word of his had ever encouraged her on the +course she had elected. He was convinced now. +Her regard for Jim was utterly dead, had been dead +far longer than probably even she realized. +</P> + +<P> +With this conviction a sudden wild hope leapt +within him; but, like summer lightning, its very +brilliancy left the night seemingly darker. No, it +could never be now. Betty liked him, liked him +only too well. Her frank friendliness was too outspoken, +and then—ah, yes, he knew himself. Did +he ever get the chance of forgetting? Did not his +mirror remind him every morning? Did not his +hair brushes, even, force it upon him as they loyally +struggled to arrange some order in his obstinate +wiry hair? Did not every chair, even his very bed, +cry out at the awful burden they were called upon +to support? Somehow his thoughts made him rebellious. +Why should he be so barred? Why +should he be denied the happiness all men are +created for? But in a man like Dave such rebellion +was not likely to find vent in words, or even +mood. +</P> + +<P> +In the midst of his thought the drone of his own +distant mills came to him through the steady hiss +of the rain. The sound held him, and he experienced +a strange comfort. It was like an answer to +his mute appeal. It reminded him that his work +lay before him. It was a call to which he was +wedded, bound; it claimed his every nerve; it demanded +his every thought like the most exacting +mistress; and, for the moment, it gripped him with +all the old force. +</P> + +<P> +"Say," he cried, holding up a warning finger, +untidy with years of labor, "isn't she booming? +Hark at the saws," he went on, his eyes glowing +with pride and enthusiasm. "They're singing to +beat the band. It's real music." +</P> + +<P> +They listened. +</P> + +<P> +"Hark!" he went on presently, and Betty's eyes +watched him with a tender smile in their brown +depths. "Hear the rise and fall of it as the breeze +carries it. Hear the 'boom' of the 'ninety-footers' +as they drop into the shoots. Isn't it +great? Isn't it elegant music?" +</P> + +<P> +Betty nodded. Her sympathy was with him if +she smiled at his words. +</P> + +<P> +"A lumbering symphony," she said. +</P> + +<P> +Dave's face suddenly fell. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah," he said apologetically, "you weren't +brought up on a diet of buzz-saw trimmings." +</P> + +<P> +Betty shook her head. +</P> + +<P> +"No," she said gently, "patent food." +</P> + +<P> +Dave's enthusiasm dropped from him, and his +face, unlit by it, had fallen back into its stern set. +At the sight of the almost tragic change Betty's +heart smote her, and she hastened to make amends, +fearful lest he should fail to realize the sympathy +she had for him. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, no, Dave," she cried. "I know. I understand. +I, too, love those mills for what they mean +to you, to us, to Malkern. They are your world. +They are our world. You have slowly, laboriously +built them up. You have made us—Malkern. +Your prosperity means happiness and prosperity to +hundreds in our beloved valley. You do not love +those mills for the fortune they are piling up for +you, but for the sake of those others who share in +your great profits and whose lives you have been +able to gladden. I know you, Dave. And I understand +the real music you hear." +</P> + +<P> +The man shook his head, but his voice rang with +deep feeling. He knew that he did not deserve all +this girl's words conveyed, but, coming from her, +it was very sweet. +</P> + +<P> +"Little Betty," he said, "you kind of run away +with things. There's a fellow called 'Dave' I +think about a heap. I think about him such a +heap I'm most always thinking of him. He's got +ambition bad—so bad he thinks of precious little +else. Then he's most terrible human. You'd +marvel if you knew just how human he was. Now +you'd think, maybe, he'd not want anything he +hasn't got, wouldn't you? You'd think he was +happy and content to see everything he undertakes +prospering, and other folks happy. Well, he just +isn't, and that's a fact. He's mighty thankful for +mercies received, but there's a heap of other +mercies he grumbles because he hasn't got." +</P> + +<P> +There was so much sincerity in the man's voice +that Betty turned and stared at him. +</P> + +<P> +"And aren't you happy, Dave?" she asked, +hardly knowing what she said, but, woman-like, +fixing on the one point that appealed to her +deepest sympathy. +</P> + +<P> +He evaded the direct question. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm as happy as a third child in playtime," he +said; and then, before she could fully grasp his +meaning, "Ah, here's the mill. Guess we'll pull +up right here." +</P> + +<P> +The old mare came to a standstill, and Dave +sprang out before Betty could answer him. And +as soon as she had alighted he led the horse to a +shed out of the rain. +</P> + +<P> +Then together they explored the mill, and their +talk at once became purely technical. The man +became the practical lumberman, and, note-book in +hand, he led the way from room to room and floor +to floor, observing every detail of the conditions +prevailing. And all the time they talked, Betty +displaying such an exhaustive knowledge of the +man's craft that at times she quite staggered him. +It was a revelation, a source of constant wonder, +and it added a zest to the work which made him +love every moment spent in carrying it out. +</P> + +<P> +It was over an hour before the inspection was +finished, and to Dave it scarcely seemed more than +a matter of minutes. Then there was yet the drive +home with Betty at his side. As they drove away +the culminating point in the man's brief happiness +was reached when the girl, with interest such as +his own might have been, pointed out the value of +his purchase. +</P> + +<P> +"It will take you exactly a week to outfit that +mill, I should say," she said. "Its capacity for big +stuff is so small you shouldn't pay a cent over ten +thousand dollars for it." +</P> + +<P> +Dave smiled. Sometimes Betty's keenness of +perception in his own business made him feel very +small. Several times already that morning she had +put things so incisively before him that he found +himself wondering whether he had considered them +from the right point of view. He was about to answer +her, but finally contented himself with a wondering +exclamation. +</P> + +<P> +"For Heaven's sake, Betty, where did you learn +it all?" +</P> + +<P> +It was a delighted laugh that answered him. +</P> + +<P> +"Where? Where do you think? Why, from +the one man competent to teach me. You forget +that I came to you for instruction five years ago." +</P> + +<P> +The girl's eyes were dancing with pleasure. +Somehow the desire for this man's praise and approval +had unconsciously become part of her whole +outlook. Her simple honesty would not let her +deny it—showed her no reason for denying it. +She sometimes told herself it was just her vanity; it +was the desire of a pupil for a master's praise. +She, as yet, could see no other reason for it, and +would have laughed at the idea that any warmer +feeling could possibly underlie it. +</P> + +<P> +Dave's pleasure in her acknowledgment was very +evident. +</P> + +<P> +"I haven't forgotten, Betty," he said. "But I +never taught you all that. It's your own clever little +head. You could give Joel Dawson a start and +beat him." +</P> + +<P> +"You don't understand," the girl declared +quickly. "It was you who gave me the ground-work, +and then I thought and thought. You see, +I—I wanted to help Jim when he came back." +</P> + +<P> +Dave had no reply to make. The girl's plain +statement had damped his enthusiasm. He had +forgotten Jim. She had done this for love of the +other man. +</P> + +<P> +"I want you to do me a great favor," she went +on presently. "I want it very—very much. You +think I've learned a lot. Well, I want to learn +more. I don't know quite why—I s'pose it's because +I'm interested. I want to see the big lumber +being trimmed. I want to see your own mill in +full work, and have what I don't understand explained +to me. Will you do it? Some night. I'd +like to see it all in its most inspiring light. Will +you, Dave?" +</P> + +<P> +She laid a coaxing hand on his great arm, and +looked eagerly into his eyes. At that moment the +lumberman would have promised her the world. +And he would have striven with every nerve in his +body to fulfil his promise. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure," he said simply. "Name your own +time." +</P> + +<P> +And for once the girl didn't thank him in her +usual frank way. She simply drew her hand away +and chirruped at the old mare. +</P> + +<P> +For the rest of the drive home she remained +silent. It was as though Dave's ready, eager +promise had suddenly affected her in some disturbing +way. Her brown eyes looked straight ahead +along the trail, and they were curiously serious. +</P> + +<P> +They reached the man's home. He alighted, +and she drove on to her own destination with a +feeling of relief not unmixed with regret. +</P> + +<P> +Dave's mother had been long waiting dinner for +her boy. She had seen the buggy and guessed +who was in it, and as he came up she greeted him +with pride and affection shining in her old eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"That was Betty?" she inquired, moving across +to the dinner-table, while the man removed his +slicker. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, ma," he said coolly. He had no desire to +discuss Betty with any one just then, not even with +his mother. +</P> + +<P> +"Driving with her, dear?" she asked, with smiling, +searching eyes upon his averted face. +</P> + +<P> +"She gave me a lift," Dave replied, coming over +and sitting down at the table. +</P> + +<P> +His mother, instead of helping him to his food, +suddenly came round to his side and laid one +affectionate hand upon his great shoulder. The +contrast in these two had something almost +ridiculous in it. He was so huge, and she was so +small. Perhaps the only things they possessed in +common, outside of their mutual adoration, were +the courage and strength which shone in their gray +eyes, and the abounding kindliness of heart for all +humanity. But whereas these things in the +mother were always second to her love for her boy, +the boy's first thought and care was for the great +work his own hands had created. +</P> + +<P> +"Dave," she said very gently, "when am I +going to have a daughter? I'm getting very, very +old, and I don't want to leave you alone in the +world." +</P> + +<P> +The man propped his elbow on the table and +rested his head on his hand. His eyes were almost +gloomy. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't want to lose you, ma," he said. "It +would break me up ter'ble. Life's mostly lonesome +anyhow." Then he looked keenly up into her +face, and his glance was one of concern. "You—you +aren't ailing any?" +</P> + +<P> +The old woman shook her head, and her eyes +smiled back at him. +</P> + +<P> +"No, boy, I'm not ailing. But I worry some at +times. You see, I like Betty very, very much. In +a different way, I'm almost as fond of her as you +are——" +</P> + +<P> +Dave started and was about to break in, but his +mother shook her head, and her hand caressed his +cheek with infinite tenderness. +</P> + +<P> +"Why don't you marry her, now—now that the +other is broken off——" +</P> + +<P> +But Dave turned to her, and, swept by an almost +fierce emotion, would not be denied. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, ma? Why?" he cried, with all the +pent-up bitterness of years in the depth of his tone. +"Look at me! Look at me! And you ask me +why." He held out his two hands as though to let +her see him as he was. "Would any woman think +of me—look at me with thoughts of love? She +couldn't. What am I? A mountain of muscle, +brawn, bone, whatever you will, with a face and +figure even a farmer would hate to set up over a +corn patch at harvest time." He laughed bitterly. +"No—no, ma," he went on, his tone softening, and +taking her worn hand tenderly in his. "There are +folks made for marriage, and folks that aren't. +And when folks that aren't get marrying they're +doing a mean thing on the girl. I'm not going to +think a mean thing for Betty—let alone do one." +</P> + +<P> +His mother moved away to her seat. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, boy, I'll say no more, but I'm thinking a +time'll come when you'll be doing a mean thing by +Betty if you don't, and she'll be the one that'll +think it——" +</P> + +<P> +"Ma!" +</P> + +<P> +"The dinner's near cold." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap13"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +BETTY DECIDES +</H4> + +<P> +Two nights later Dave was waiting in the tally +room for his guests to arrive. The place was just a +corner partitioned off from the milling floor. It +was here the foreman kept account of the day's +work—a bare room, small, and hardly worth the +name of "office." Yet there was work enough +done in it to satisfy the most exacting master. +</P> + +<P> +The master of the mills had taken up a position +in the narrow doorway, in full view of the whole +floor, and was watching the sawyer on No. 1. It +was Mansell. He beheld with delight the wonderful +skill with which the man handled the giant logs +as they creaked and groaned along over the rollers. +He appeared to be sober, too. His deliberate +movements, timed to the fraction of a second, were +sufficient evidence of this. He felt glad that he +had taken him on his time-sheet. Every really +skilful sawyer was of inestimable value at the +moment, and, after all, this man's failing was one +pretty common to all good lumbermen. +</P> + +<P> +Dawson came up, and Dave nodded in the +sawyer's direction. +</P> + +<P> +"Working good," he observed with satisfaction. +</P> + +<P> +"Too good to last, if I know anything," grumbled +the foreman. "He'll get breakin' out, an +then—— I've a mind to set him on a 'buzz-saw'. +These big saws won't stand for tricks if he happens +to git around with a 'jag' on." +</P> + +<P> +"You can't put a first-class sawyer on to a +'buzzer,'" said Dave decisively. "It's tantamount +to telling him he doesn't know his work. No, +keep him where he is. If he 'signs' in with a +souse on, push him out till he's sober. But so long +as he's right let him work where he is." +</P> + +<P> +"Guess you're 'boss' o' this lay-out," grumbled +the foreman. +</P> + +<P> +"Just so." +</P> + +<P> +Then, as though the matter had no further concern +for him, Dawson changed the subject. +</P> + +<P> +"There's twenty 'jacks' scheduled by to-night's +mail," he said, as though speaking of some dry-goods +instead of a human freight. +</P> + +<P> +"They're for the hills to-night. Mr. Chepstow's +promised to go up and dose the boys for their fever. +I'm putting it to him to-night. He'll take 'em with +him. By the way, I'm expecting the parson and +Miss Betty along directly. They want to get a +look at this." He waved an arm in the direction +of the grinding rollers. "They want to see it—busy." +</P> + +<P> +Dawson was less interested in the visitors. +</P> + +<P> +"I see 'em as I come up," he said indifferently. +"Looked like they'd been around your office." +</P> + +<P> +Dave turned on him sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"Go down and bring 'em along up. And say—get +things ready for sending up to the camps to-night. +Parson'll have my buckboard and the black +team. He's got to travel quick. They can come +right away back when he's got there. See he's got +plenty of bedding and rations. Load it down good. +There's a case of medical supplies in my office. +That goes with him. Then you'll get three +'democrats' from Mulloc's livery barn for the boys. +See they've got plenty of grub too." +</P> + +<P> +When Dave gave sharp orders, Dawson simply +listened and obeyed. He understood his employer, +and never ventured criticism at such times. He +hurried away now to give the necessary orders, and +then went on to find the visitors. +</P> + +<P> +Directly he had gone the master of the mills +moved over to the sawyer on No. 1. +</P> + +<P> +"You haven't forgotten your craft, Mansell," he +said pleasantly, his deep voice carrying, clarion-like, +distinctly over the din of the sawing-floor. +</P> + +<P> +"Would you fergit how t' eat, boss?" the man +inquired surlily, measuring an oncoming log keenly +with his eye. He bore down on a "jolting" lever +and turned the log into a fresh position. Then he +leant forward and tipped the end of it with chalk. +Hand and eye worked mechanically together. He +knew to a hairsbreadth just where the trimming blade +should strike the log to get the maximum square +of timber. +</P> + +<P> +Dave shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +"It would take some forgetting," he said, with a +smile. "You see there's always a stomach to +remind you." +</P> + +<P> +The log was passing, and the man had a moment's +breathing space while it traveled to the +fangs of the rushing saw. He looked up with a +pair of dark, brooding eyes in which shone a +peculiarly offensive light. +</P> + +<P> +"Jest so," he vouchsafed. "I learned this when +I learned t' eat, an' it's filled my belly that long, fi' +year ain't like to set me fergittin'." +</P> + +<P> +He turned to the rollers and watched the log. He +saw it hit the teeth of the saw plumb on his chalk +mark. +</P> + +<P> +"An awful waste out of a lumberman's life, that +five years," Dave went on, when the crucial moment +had passed. "That mill would have been doing +well now, and—and you were foreman." +</P> + +<P> +He was looking straight into the fellow's mean +face. He noted the terrible inroads drink had made +upon it, the sunken eyes, the pendulous lip, the +lines of dissipation in deep furrows round his mouth. +He pitied him from the bottom of his heart, but +allowed no softness of expression. +</P> + +<P> +"Say," exclaimed the sawyer, with a vicious snap, +"when I'm lumberin' I ain't got time fer rememberin' +anything else—which is a heap good. I +don't guess it's good for any one buttin' in when the +logs are rollin'. Guess that log's comin' right back." +</P> + +<P> +The man's unnecessary insolence was a little +staggering. Yet Dave rather liked him for it. The +independence of the sawyer's spirit appealed to him. +He really had no right to criticize Mansell's past, to +stir up an unpleasant memory for him. +</P> + +<P> +He knew his men, and he realized that he had +overstepped his rights in the matter. He was +simply their employer. It was for him to give +orders, and for them to obey. In all else he must +take them as man and man. He felt now that there +was nothing more for him to say, so while the +sawyer clambered over to the return rollers, ready +for the second journey of the log, he walked +thoughtfully back to his office. +</P> + +<P> +At that moment his visitors appeared, escorted +by Dawson. The foreman was piloting them with +all the air of a guide and the pride of his association +with the mills. Betty was walking beside him, and +while taking in the wonderful scene that opened out +before her, she was listening to the conversation of +the two men. +</P> + +<P> +The foreman had taken upon himself to tell the +parson of the orders he had received for the night +journey, and the details of the preparations being +made for it. The news came to Chepstow unpleasantly, +yet he understood that its urgency must +be great, or Dave would never have decided upon so +sudden a journey. He was a little put out, but +quite ready to help his friend. +</P> + +<P> +It was the first Betty had heard of it. She was +astonished and resentful. She had heard that there +was fever up in the hills, but her uncle had told her +nothing of Dave's request to him. Therefore, before +greetings had been exchanged, and almost before the +door of the tally room had closed upon the departing +foreman, she opened a volley of questions upon him. +</P> + +<P> +"What's this about uncle going up to the hills +to-night, Dave?" she demanded. "Why has it +been kept secret? Why so sudden? Why to-night?" +</P> + +<P> +Her inquiring glance turned from one to the +other. +</P> + +<P> +Dave made no hurry to reply. He was watching +the play of the strong, eager young face. The girl's +directness appealed to him even more than her +beauty. To-night she looked very pretty in a +black clinging gown which made her look almost +fragile. She seemed so slight, so delicate, yet her +whole manner had such reserve of virile force. He +thought now, as he had often thought before, she +possessed a brain much too big and keen for her +body, yet withal so essentially womanly as to be +something to marvel at. +</P> + +<P> +The girl became impatient. +</P> + +<P> +"Why wasn't I told? For goodness' sake don't +stand there staring, Dave." +</P> + +<P> +"There's no secrecy exactly, Betty," the lumberman +said, "that is, except from the folks in the +village. You see, anything likely to check our +work, such as fever up in the camps, is liable to set +them worrying and talking. We didn't mean to +keep it from you——" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, yes," the girl broke in. "But why this +hurry? Why to-night?" +</P> + +<P> +And so she forced Dave into a full explanation, +which alone would satisfy her. At the end of it +she turned to her uncle, who had stood quietly by +enjoying the manner in which she dictated her will +upon the master of the mills. +</P> + +<P> +"It's an awful shame you've got to go, uncle, +especially while you've got all the new church +affairs upon your hands. But I quite see Dave's +right, and we must get the boys well as quickly as +possible. We've got to remember that these mills +are not only Dave's. They also belong to Malkern—one +might almost say to the people of this valley. +It is the ship, and—and we are its freight. So we +start at midnight. Does auntie know?" +</P> + +<P> +Instantly two pairs of questioning eyes were +turned upon her. That coupling of herself with her +uncle in the matter had not escaped them. +</P> + +<P> +"Your Aunt Mary knows I am going some time. +But she hasn't heard the latest development, my +dear," her uncle said. "But—but you said 'we' +just now?" +</P> + +<P> +Dave understood. He knew what was coming. +But then he understood Betty as did no one else. +He smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course I said 'we,'" Betty exclaimed, with a +laugh which only served to cloak the resolve that +lay behind it. "You are not going alone. Besides, +you can physic people well enough, uncle +dear, but you can't nurse them worth—worth a +cent. School's all right, and can get on without +me for a while. Well?" She smiled quickly from +one to the other. "Well, we're ready, aren't we? +We can't let this interfere with our view of the mill." +</P> + +<P> +Her uncle shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +"You can't go up there, Betty," he said seriously. +"You can't go about amongst those men. They're +good fellows. They're men. But——" he looked +over at Dave as though seeking support, a thing he +rarely needed. But he was dealing with Betty +now, and where she was concerned, there were times +when he felt that a little support might be welcome. +</P> + +<P> +Dave promptly added his voice in support of his +friend's protest. +</P> + +<P> +"You can't go, little Betty," he said. "You can't, +little girl," he reiterated, shaking his shaggy head. +"You think you know the lumber-jacks, and I'll +allow you know them a lot. But you don't know +'em up in those camps. They're wild men. +They're just as savage as wolves, and foolish as +babes. They're just great big baby men, and as +irresponsible as half-witted schoolboys. I give +you my word I can't let you go up. I know how +you want to help us out. I know your big heart. +And I know still more what a help you'd be——" +</P> + +<P> +"And that's just why I'm going," Betty snapped +him up. That one unfortunate remark undid all +the impression his appeal might otherwise have +made. And as the two men realized the finality of +her tone, they understood the hopelessness of turning +her from her purpose. +</P> + +<P> +"Uncle dear," she went on, "please say 'yes.' +Because I'm going, and I'd feel happier with your +sanction. Dave," she turned with a smile upon the +lumberman, "you've just got to say 'yes,' or I'll +never—never let you subscribe to any charity or—or +anything I ever get up in Malkern again. Now +you two dears, mind, I'm going anyway. I'll just +count three, and you both say 'yes' together." +</P> + +<P> +She counted deliberately, solemnly, but there was +a twinkle in her brown eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"One—two—three!" +</P> + +<P> +And a simultaneous "Yes" came as surely as +though neither had any objection to the whole proceeding. +And furthermore, both men joined in the +girl's laugh when they realized how they had been +cajoled. To them she was quite irresistible. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know whatever your aunt will say," her +uncle said lugubriously. +</P> + +<P> +"It's not so much what she'll say as—as what +may happen up there," protested Dave, his conscience +still pricking him. +</P> + +<P> +But the girl would have no more of it. +</P> + +<P> +"You are two dear old—yes, 'old'—sillies. +Now, Dave, the mills!" +</P> + +<P> +Betty carried all before her with these men who +were little better than her slaves. They obeyed +her lightest command hardly knowing they obeyed +it. Her uncle's authority, whilst fully acknowledged +by her, was practically non-existent. Her loyalty +to him and her love for both her guardians left no +room for the exercise of authority. And Dave—well, +he was her adviser in all things, and like most +people who have an adviser, Betty went her own +sweet way, but in such a manner that made the +master of the mills believe that his help and advice +were practically indispensable to her. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap14"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE MILLS +</H4> + +<P> +Dave obediently led the way out of the tally +room to the great milling floor, and at once they +were in the heart of his world. +</P> + +<P> +It was by no means new to Betty; she had seen +it all before, but never had the mills been driven at +such a pressure as now, and the sensation the +knowledge gave her was one which demanded the +satisfaction of optical demonstration. She was +thrilled with a sense of emergency. The roar of +the machinery carried with it a meaning it had +never held before. There was a current of excitement +in the swift, skilful movements of the sawyers +as they handled the mighty logs. +</P> + +<P> +To her stirred imagination there was a suggestion +of superhuman agency, of some nether world, +in the yellow light of the flares which lit that vast +sea of moving rollers. As she gazed out across it +at the dim, distant corners she felt as though at any +moment the machinery might suddenly become +manned by hundreds of hideous gnomes, such as +she had read of in the fairy tales. Yet it was all +real, real and human, and Dave was the man who +controlled, whose brain and eyes watched over +every detail, whose wonderful skill and power were +carrying that colossal work to the goal of success. +As she looked, she sighed. She envied the man +whose genius had made all this possible. +</P> + +<P> +Above the roar Dave's voice reached her. +</P> + +<P> +"This is only part of it," he said; "come below." +</P> + +<P> +And she followed him to the spiral iron staircase +which led to the floor below. Her uncle brought +up the rear. +</P> + +<P> +At ordinary times the lower part of the mills was +given over to the shops for the manufacture of +smaller lumber, building stuff, doors and windows, +flooring, and tongue and groove. Betty knew this. +She knew every shop by heart, just as she knew +most of the workmen by sight. But now it was all +changed. The partitions had been torn down, and +the whole thrown into one floor. It was a replica +of the milling floor above. +</P> + +<P> +Here again were the everlasting rollers; here +again were the tremendous logs traveling across +and across the floor; here again were the roar and +shriek of the gleaming saws. The girl's enthusiasm +rose. Her eyes wandered from the fascinating +spectacle to the giant at her side. She felt a lump +rise in her throat; she wanted to laugh, she wanted +to cry; but she did neither. Only her eyes shone +as she gazed at him; and his plainness seemed to +fall from him. She saw the man standing at her +side, but the great ungainly Dave had gone, leaving +in his place only such a hero as her glowing +heart could create. +</P> + +<P> +They stood there watching, watching. None of +the three spoke. None of them had any words. +Dave saw and thought. His great unimaginative +head had no care for the picture side of it. His +eyes were on the sawyers, most of them stripped to +the waist in the heat of their labors in the summer +night. To him the interest of the scene lay in the +precision and regularity with which log followed +log over the rollers, and the skill with which they +were cut. +</P> + +<P> +Parson Tom, with a little more imagination, built +up in his mind the future prosperity of their beloved +valley, and thanked the Almighty Providence +that It had sent them such a man as Dave. But +Betty, in spite of her practical brain, lost sight of +all the practical side of the work. As she watched +she was living in such a dream as only comes once +in a lifetime to any woman. At that moment her +crown of glory was set upon Dave's rough head. +All she had hoped for, striven for all her life +seemed so small at the thought of him. And the +delight of those moments became almost painful. +She had always looked upon him as "her Dave," +her beloved "chum," her adviser, her prop to lean +on at all times. But no. No, no; he was well and +truly named. He was no one's Dave. He was +just Dave of the Mills. +</P> + +<P> +They moved on to a small doorway, and passing +along a protected gallery they worked their way +toward the "boom." The place was a vast backwater +of the river, enlarged to accommodate +millions of feet of logs. It was packed with a mass +of tumbled lumber, over which, in the dim light +thrown by waste fire, a hundred and more "jacks" +could be seen, clambering like a colony of +monkeys, pushing, prizing, easing, pulling with +their peaveys to get the logs freed, so that the +grappling tackle could seize and haul them up out +of the water to the milling floors above. +</P> + +<P> +Here again they paused and silently gazed at the +stupendous work going on. There was no more +room for wonder either in the girl or her uncle. +The maximum had been reached. They could +only silently stare. +</P> + +<P> +Dave was the first to move. His keen eyes had +closely watched the work. He had seen log after +log fly up in the grapple of the hydraulic cranes, he +had seen them shot into the gaping jaws of the +building, he had seen that not an idle hand was +down there in the boom, and he was satisfied. +Now he wanted to go on. +</P> + +<P> +"There's the 'waste,'" he said casually. "But I +guess you've seen that heaps, only it's a bit bigger +now, and we've had to build two more 'feeders.'" +</P> + +<P> +Betty answered him, and her tone was unusually +subdued. +</P> + +<P> +"Let's see it all, Dave," she said, almost humbly. +</P> + +<P> +All her imperiousness had gone, and in its place +was an ecstatic desire to see all and anything that +owed its existence to this man. +</P> + +<P> +Dave strode on. He was quite unconscious of +the change that had taken place in Betty's +thoughts of him. To him these things had become +every-day matters of his work. They meant +no more to him than the stepping-stones toward +success which every one who makes for achievement +has to tread. +</P> + +<P> +Their way took them up another iron staircase +outside the main building. At the top of it was an +iron gallery, which passed round two angles of the +mill, and terminated at the three feeders, stretching +out from the mills to the great waste fire a hundred +yards away. From this gallery there was an +inspiring view of the "everlasting" fire. It had +been lit when the mill first started its operations +years ago, and had been burning steadily ever since; +and so it would go on burning as long as the saws +inside continued to rip the logs. +</P> + +<P> +The feeders were three shafts, supported on iron +trestle work, each carrying an ever-moving, endless +bed on which the waste trimmings of the logs were +thrown. These were borne upward and outward +for a hundred yards till the shafts hung high above +the blazing mass. Here the endless band doubled +under, and its burden was precipitated below, where +it was promptly devoured by the insatiable flames. +</P> + +<P> +For some moments they watched the great +timber pass on its way to the fire, and so appalling +appeared the waste that Parson Tom protested. +</P> + +<P> +"This seems to me positively wanton," he said. +"Why, the stuff you're sending on to that fire is +perfect lumber. At the worst, what grand fuel it +would make for the villagers." +</P> + +<P> +Dave nodded his great head. He often felt the +same about it. +</P> + +<P> +"Makes you sicken some to see it go, doesn't +it?" he said regretfully. "It does me. But say, +we've got a waste yard full, and the folks in +Malkern are welcome to all they can haul away. +Even Mary uses it in her stoves, but they can't +haul or use it fast enough. If it wasn't for this fire +there wouldn't be room for a rat in Malkern inside +a year. Guess it's got to be, more's the pity." +</P> + +<P> +There was no more to be said, and the three +watched the fire in silent awe. It was a marvelous +sight. The dull red-yellow light shone luridly over +everything. The mill on the one hand loomed +majestically out of the dark background of night. +The fire, over forty feet in height, lit the buildings +in a curious, uncanny fashion, throwing grotesque +and lurid shadows in every direction. Then all +around, on the farther sides, spread the distant dark +outline of ghostly pine woods, whose native gloom +resisted a light, which, by contrast, was so insignificantly +artificial. It gave a weird impression +that had a strong effect upon Betty's rapt imagination. +</P> + +<P> +Dave again broke the spell. He could not spare +too much time, and, as they moved away, Betty +sighed. +</P> + +<P> +"It's all very, very wonderful," she said, moving +along at his side. "And to think even in winter, +no matter what the snowfall, that fire never goes +out." +</P> + +<P> +Dave laughed. +</P> + +<P> +"If it rained like it's been raining to-day for six +months," he said, "I don't guess it could raise +more than a splutter." Then he turned to Tom +Chepstow. "Is there anything else you'd like to +see? You've got three hours to midnight." +</P> + +<P> +But the parson had seen enough; and as he had +yet to overhaul the supplies he was to take up to +the hill camps, they made their way back to the +tally room. At the rollers on which Mansell was +working Dave paused with Betty, while her uncle +went on. +</P> + +<P> +They watched a great log appear at the opening +over the boom. The chains of the hydraulic crane +creaked under their burden. Dave pointed at it +silhouetted against the light of the waste fire beyond. +</P> + +<P> +"Watch him," he said. "That's Dick Mansell." +</P> + +<P> +The pride in his tone was amply justified. Mansell +was at the opening, waiting, peavey in hand. +They saw the log dripping and swaying as it was +hauled up until its lower end cleared the rollers. +On the instant the sawyer leant forward and +plunged his hook into the soft pine bark. Then he +strained steadily and the log came slowly onward. +A whistle, and the crane was eased an inch at a +time. The man held his strain, and the end +lowered ever further over the rollers until it +touched. Two more whistles, and the log was +lowered faster until it lay exactly horizontal, and +then the rollers carried it in. Once its balance was +passed, the sawyer struck the grappling chains +loose with his peavey, and, with a rattle, they fell +clear, while the prostrate giant lumbered ponderously +into the mill. +</P> + +<P> +It was all done so swiftly. +</P> + +<P> +Now Mansell sprang to the foremost end and +chalked the log as it traveled. Then, like a cat, he +sprang to the rear of it and measured with his eye. +Dissatisfied, he ran to its side and prized it into a +fresh position, glancing down it, much as a rifleman +might glance over his sights. Satisfied at length, +he ran on ahead of the moving log to his saws. +Throwing over a lever, he quickened the pace of +the gleaming blade. On came the log. The +yielding wood met the merciless fangs of the saw +upon the chalk line, and passed hissing and shrieking +on its way as though it had met with no obstruction. +</P> + +<P> +The girl took a deep breath. +</P> + +<P> +"Splendid," she cried. Well as she knew this +work, to-night it appealed to her with a new force, +a deeper and more personal interest. +</P> + +<P> +"Easy as pie," Dave laughed. Then more +seriously, "Yet it's dangerous as—as hell." +</P> + +<P> +Betty nodded. She knew. +</P> + +<P> +"But you don't have many accidents, thank +goodness." +</P> + +<P> +Dave shrugged. +</P> + +<P> +"Not many—considering. But you don't often +see a sawyer with perfectly sound hands. There's +generally something missing." +</P> + +<P> +"I know. Look at Mansell's arm there." Betty +pointed at a deep furrow on the man's forearm. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Mansell's been through it. I remember +when he got that. Like an Indian holds his first +scalp as a sign of his prowess, or the knights of old +wore golden spurs as an emblem of their knighthood, +the sawyer minus a finger or so has been literally +'through the mill,' and can claim proficiency in +his calling. But those are not the dangers I was +figgering on." +</P> + +<P> +Betty waited for him to go on. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," he said solemnly. "It's the breaking +saw. That's the terror of a sawyer's life. And just +now of mine. It's always in the back of my head +like a black shadow. One breaking saw would do +more damage cutting up this big stuff than it would +take a fire to do in an hour. It would be the next +best thing to bursting a charge of dynamite. Take +this saw of Mansell's. A break, a bend out of the +truth, the log slips while it's being cut. Any of +these things. You wouldn't think a 'ninety-footer' +could be thrown far. If any of those things happened, +good-bye to anything or anybody with +whom it came into contact. But we needn't to +worry. Let's get in there to your uncle." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap15"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +BETTY TAKES COVER +</H4> + +<P> +In the office they found Parson Tom at work +with pencil and note-book. The latter he closed as +they came in. +</P> + +<P> +"For goodness' sake shut that door behind you," +he laughed. "I've been trying to think of the +things I need for my journey to-night, but that uproar +makes it well-nigh impossible." +</P> + +<P> +The words brought Betty back to matters of the +moment. Everything had been forgotten in the +interest of her tour of the mills at Dave's side. +Now she realized that time was short, and she too +must make her preparations. +</P> + +<P> +Dave closed the door. +</P> + +<P> +"We'd best get down to the barn and fix things +there," he said. "Then you can get right back +home and arrange matters with Mary. Betty could +go on and prepare her." +</P> + +<P> +The girl nodded her approval. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said, "and I can get my own things +together." +</P> + +<P> +Both men looked at her. +</P> + +<P> +She answered their challenge at once, but now +there was a great change in her manner. She no +longer laughed at them. She no longer carried +things with a high hand. She intended going up +to the camps, but it almost seemed as though she +desired their justification to support her decision. +Somehow that tour of the mills at Dave's side had +lessened her belief in herself. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said, "I know neither of you wants +me to go. Perhaps, from your masculine point +of view, you are both right. But—but I want to +go. I do indeed. This is no mere whim. Uncle, +speak up and admit the necessity for nursing. +Who on earth is up there to do it? No one." +</P> + +<P> +Then she turned to Dave, and her earnest eyes +were full of almost humble entreaty. +</P> + +<P> +"You won't refuse me, Dave?" she said. "I +feel I must go. I feel that some one, some strange +voice, is calling to me to go. That my presence +there is needed. I am only a woman, and in these +big schemes of yours it is ridiculous to think that I +should play a part. Yet somehow—somehow——Oh, +Dave, won't you let me help, if only in this +small way? It will be something for me to look +back upon when you have succeeded; something +for me to cherish, this thought that I have helped +you even in so small a way. You won't refuse me. +It is so little to you, and it means so—so much to +me." +</P> + +<P> +Her uncle was watching the grave face of the +lumberman; and when she finished he waited, +smiling, for the effect of her appeal. +</P> + +<P> +It was some moments before Dave answered. +Betty's eyes were shining with eager hope, and at +last her impatience got the better of her. +</P> + +<P> +"You said 'yes' once to-night," she urged softly. +</P> + +<P> +Her uncle's smile broadened. He was glad the +onus of this thing was on the broad shoulders of +his friend. +</P> + +<P> +"Betty," said Dave at last, looking squarely into +her eyes, "will you promise me to keep to the sick +camps, and not go about amongst the 'jacks' who +aren't sick without your uncle?" +</P> + +<P> +There was something in the man's eyes which +made the girl drop hers suddenly. She colored +slightly, perhaps with vexation. She somehow felt +awkward. And she had never felt awkward with +Dave in her life before. However, she answered +him gladly. +</P> + +<P> +"I promise—promise willingly." +</P> + +<P> +"Then I'll not go back on my promise. Go and +get ready, little girl," he said gently. +</P> + +<P> +She waited for no more. Her eyes thanked him, +and for once, though he never saw it, nor, if he had, +would he have understood it, there was a shyness +in them such as had never been there before. +</P> + +<P> +As the door closed behind her he turned with a +sigh to his old friend. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Tom," he said, with a dry, half regretful +smile, "it strikes me there are a pair of fools in this +room." +</P> + +<P> +The parson chuckled delightedly. +</P> + +<P> +"But one is bigger than the other. You wait +until Mary sees you. My word!" +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Betty hurried out of the mill. She knew the +time was all too short; besides, she did not want to +give the men time to change their minds. And +then there was still her aunt to appease. +</P> + +<P> +Outside in the yards the thirsty red sand had entirely +lapped up the day's rain. It was almost as +dry as though the summer rains were mere showers. +The night was brilliantly fine, and though as +yet there was no moon, the heavens were diamond-studded, +and the milky way spread its ghostly path +sheer across the sky. Half running in her eagerness, +the girl dodged amongst the stacks of lumber, +making her way direct to a point in the fence nearest +to her home. To go round to the gates would +mean a long, circuitous route that would waste at +least ten minutes. +</P> + +<P> +As she sped, the din of the mill rapidly receded, +and the shadows thrown by the flare lights of the +yards behind her lengthened and died out, merged +in the darkness of the night beyond their radiance. +At the fence she paused and looked about for the +easiest place to climb. It was high, and the lateral +rails were wide apart. It was all the same whichever +way she looked, so, taking her courage in +both hands, and lifting her skirts knee high, she essayed +the task. It was no easy matter, but she +managed it, coming down on the other side much +more heavily than she cared about. Still, in her +excited state, she didn't pause to trouble about a +trifle like that. +</P> + +<P> +She was strangely happy without fully understanding +the reason. This trip to the hills would +be a break in the monotony of her daily routine. +But somehow it was not that that elated her. She +loved her work, and at no time wanted to shirk it. +No, it was not that. Yet it was something to do +with her going. Something to do with the hill +camps; something to do with helping—Dave—ah! +Yes, it was that. She knew it now, and the knowledge +thrilled her with a feeling she had never before +experienced. +</P> + +<P> +Her course took her through a dense clump of +pine woods. She was far away from the direct +trail, but she knew every inch of the way. +</P> + +<P> +Somehow she felt glad of the cool darkness of +those woods. Their depth of shadow swallowed +her up and hid her from all the rest of the world, +and, for the moment, it was good to be alone. She +liked the feeling that no one was near her—not +even Dave. She wanted to think it all out. She +wanted to understand herself. This delight that +had come to her, this joy. Dave had promised to +let her help him in his great work. It was too +good to be true. How she would work. Yes, she +would strain every nerve to nurse the men back to +health, so that there should be no check in the +work. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly she paused in her thought. Her heart +seemed to stand still, then its thumping almost +stifled her. She had realized her true motive. +Yes, she knew it now. It was not the poor sick +men she was thinking of. She was not thinking of +her uncle, who would be slaving for sheer love of +his fellow men. No, it was of Dave she was thinking. +Dave—her Dave. +</P> + +<P> +Now she knew. She loved him. She felt it +here, here, and she pressed both hands over her +heart, which was beating tumultuously and thrilling +with an emotion such as she had never known before. +Never, even in the days when she had believed +herself in love with Jim Truscott. She +wanted to laugh, to cry aloud her happiness to the +dark woods which crowded round her. She wanted +to tell all the world. She wanted everything about +her to know of it, to share in it. Oh, how good +God was to her. She knew that she loved Dave. +Loved him with a passion that swept every thought +of herself from her fevered brain. She wanted to +be his slave; his—his all. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly her passion-swept thoughts turned +hideously cold. What of Dave? Did he?—could +he? No, he looked upon her as his little "chum" +and nothing more. How could it be otherwise? +Had he not witnessed her betrothal to Jim +Truscott? Had he not been at her side when she +renounced him? Had he not always looked after +her as an elder brother? Had he—— +</P> + +<P> +She came to a dead standstill in the heart of the +woods, gripped by a fear that had nothing to do +with her thoughts. It was the harsh sound of a +voice. And it was just ahead of her. It rang +ominously in her ears at such an hour, and in such +a place. She listened. Who could be in those +woods at that hour of the night? Who beside herself? +The voice was so distinct that she felt it +must be very, very near. Then she remembered +how the woods echo, particularly at night, and a +shiver of fear swept over her at the thought that +perhaps the sound of her own footsteps had reached +the ears of the owner of the voice. She had no desire +to encounter any drunken lumber-jacks in such +a place. Her heart beat faster, as she cast about in +her mind for the best thing to do. +</P> + +<P> +The voice she had first heard now gave place to +another, which she instantly recognized. The recognition +shocked her violently. There could be +no mistaking the second voice. It was Jim Truscott's. +Hardly knowing what she did, she stepped +behind a tree and waited. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't get the other thing working yet," she +heard Truscott say in a tone of annoyance. "It's a +job that takes longer than I figured on. Now, see +here, you've got to get busy right away. We must +get the brakes on him right now. My job will +come on later, and be the final check. That's why +I wanted you to-night." +</P> + +<P> +Then came the other voice, and, to the listening +girl, its harsh note had in it a surly discontent that +almost amounted to open rebellion. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, that ain't how you said, Jim. We fixed +it so I hadn't got to do a thing till you'd played +your 'hand.' Play it, an' if you fail clear out, then +it's right up to me, an' I'll stick to the deal." +</P> + +<P> +Enlightenment was coming to Betty. This was +some gambling plot. She knew Jim's record. +Some poor wretch was to be robbed. The other +man was of course a confederate. But Jim was +talking again. Now his voice was commanding, +even threatening. +</P> + +<P> +"This is no damned child's play; we're going to +have no quibbling. You want that money, Mansell, +and you've got to earn it. It's the spirit of the +bargain I want, not the letter. Maybe you're +weakening. Maybe you're scared. Damn it, +man! it's the simplest thing—do as I say and—the +money's yours." +</P> + +<P> +At the mention of the man's name Betty was +filled with wonder. She had seen Mansell at work +in the mill. The night shift was not relieved until +six o'clock in the morning. How then came +he there? What was he doing in company with +Jim? +</P> + +<P> +But now the sawyer's voice was raised in downright +anger, and the girl's alarm leapt again. +</P> + +<P> +"I said I'd stick to the deal," he cried. Then he +added doggedly, "And a deal's a deal." +</P> + +<P> +Jim's reply followed in a much lower key, and +she had to strain to hear. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not going to be fooled by you," he said. +"You'll do this job when I say. When I say, +mind——" +</P> + +<P> +But at this point his voice dropped so low that +the rest was lost. And though Betty strained to +catch the words, only the drone of the voices +reached her. Presently even that ceased. Then +she heard the sound of footsteps receding in different +directions, and she knew the men had parted. +When the silence of the woods had swallowed up +the last sound she set off at a run for home. +</P> + +<P> +She thought a great deal about that mysterious +encounter on her way. It was mysterious, she +decided. She wondered what she should do about +it. These men were plotting to cheat and rob +some of Dave's lumber-jacks. Wasn't it her duty +to try and stop them? She was horrified at the +thought of the depths to which Jim had sunk. It +was all so paltry, so—so mean. +</P> + +<P> +Then the strangeness of the place they had +selected for their meeting struck her. Why those +woods, so remote from the village? A moment's +thought solved the matter to her own satisfaction. +No doubt Mansell had made some excuse to leave +the mill for a few minutes, and in order not to prolong +his absence too much, Jim had come out from +the village to meet him. Yes, that was reasonable. +</P> + +<P> +Finally she decided to tell Dave and her uncle. +Dave would find a way of stopping them. Trust +him for that. He could always deal with such +things better—yes, even better than her uncle, she +admitted to herself in her new-born pride in him. +</P> + +<P> +A few minutes later the twinkling lights through +the trees showed her her destination. Another +few minutes and she was explaining to her aunt +that she was off to the hill camps nursing. As +had been expected, her news was badly received. +</P> + +<P> +"It's bad enough that your uncle's got to go in +the midst of his pressing duties," Mrs. Tom ex*claimed +with heat. "What about the affairs of the +new church? What about the sick folk right here? +What about old Mrs. Styles? She's likely to die +any minute. Who's to bury her with him away? +And what about Sarah Dingley? She's haunted—delusions—and +there's no one can pacify her but +him. And now they must needs take you. It +isn't right. You up there amongst all those rough +men. It's not decent. It's——" +</P> + +<P> +"I know, auntie," Betty broke in. "It's all you +say. But—but think of those poor helpless sick +men up there, with no comfort. They've just got +to lie about and either get well, or—or die. No +one to care for them. No one to write a last letter +to their friends for them. No one to see they get +proper food, and——" +</P> + +<P> +"Stuff and nonsense!" her aunt exclaimed. +"Now you, Betty, listen to me. Go, if go you +must. I'll have nothing to do with it. It's not +with my consent you'll go. And some one is going +to hear what I think about it, even if he does +run the Malkern Mills. If—if Dave wasn't so big, +and such a dear good fellow, I'd like—yes, I'd like +to box his ears. Be off with you and see to your +packing, miss, and don't forget your thickest +flannels. Those mountains are terribly cold at +nights, even in summer." Then, as the girl ran off +to her room, she exploded in a final burst of anger. +"Well there, they're all fools, and I've no patience +with any of 'em." +</P> + +<P> +It did not take long for Betty to get her few +things together and pitch them into a grip. The +barest necessities were all she required, and her +practical mind guided her instinctively. Her task +was quite completed when, ten minutes later, she +heard the rattle of buckboard wheels and her +uncle's cheery voice down-stairs in the parlor. +</P> + +<P> +Then she hurried across to her aunt's room. +She knew her uncle so well. He wouldn't bother +to pack anything for himself. She dragged a large +kit bag from under the bed, and, ransacking the +bureau, selected what she considered the most +necessary things for his comfort and flung them +into it. It was all done with the greatest possible +haste, and by the time she had everything ready, +her uncle joined her and carried the grips downstairs. +In the meantime Mary Chepstow, all her +anger passed, was busily loading the little table +with an ample supper. She might disapprove her +niece's going, she might resent the sudden call on +her husband, but she would see them both amply +fed before starting, and that the buckboard was +well provisioned for the road. +</P> + +<P> +For the most part supper was eaten in silence. +These people were so much in the habit of doing +for others, so many calls were made upon them, +that such an occasion as this presented little in the +way of emergency. It was their life to help others, +their delight, and their creed. And Mary's protest +meant no more than words, she only hesitated at +the thought of Betty's going amongst these rough +lumber-jacks. But even this, on reflection, was not +so terrible as she at first thought. Betty was an +unusual girl, and she expected the unusual from +her. So she put her simple trust in the Almighty, +and did all she knew to help them. +</P> + +<P> +It was not until the meal was nearly over that +Chepstow imparted a piece of news he had gleaned +on his way from the mill. He suddenly looked up +from his plate, and his eyes sought his niece's face. +She was lost in a happy contemplation of the +events of that night at the mill. All her thoughts, +all her soul was, at that moment, centred upon +Dave. Now her uncle's voice startled her into a +self-conscious blush. +</P> + +<P> +"Who d'you think I met on my way up here?" +he inquired, searching her face. +</P> + +<P> +Betty answered him awkwardly. "I—I don't +know," she said. +</P> + +<P> +Her uncle reached for the salad, and helped himself +deliberately before he enlightened her further. +</P> + +<P> +"Jim Truscott," he said at last, without looking +up. +</P> + +<P> +"Jim Truscott?" exclaimed Aunt Mary, her +round eyes wondering. Then she voiced a thought +which had long since passed from her niece's mind. +"What was he doing out here at this hour of the +night?" +</P> + +<P> +The parson shrugged. +</P> + +<P> +"It seems he was waiting for me. He didn't +call here, I s'pose?" +</P> + +<P> +Mary shook her head. Betty was waiting to +hear more. +</P> + +<P> +"I feel sorry for him," he went on. "I'm inclined +to think we've judged him harshly. I'm sure +we have. It only goes to show how poor and +weak our efforts are to understand and help our fellows. +He is very, very repentant. Poor fellow, I +have never seen any one so down on his luck. He +doesn't excuse himself. In fact, he blames himself +even more than we have done." +</P> + +<P> +"Poor fellow," murmured Aunt Mary. +</P> + +<P> +Betty remained silent, and her uncle went on. +</P> + +<P> +"He's off down east to make a fresh start. He +was waiting to tell me so. He also wanted to tell +me how sorry he was for his behavior to us, to you, +Betty, and he trusted you would find it possible to +forgive him, and think better of him when he was +gone. I never saw a fellow so cut up. It was +quite pitiful." +</P> + +<P> +"When's he going?" Betty suddenly asked, and +there was a hardness in her voice which startled her +uncle. +</P> + +<P> +"That doesn't sound like forgiveness," he said. +"Don't you think, my dear, if he's trying to do +better you might——" +</P> + +<P> +Betty smiled into the earnest face. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, uncle, I forgive him everything, freely, +gladly—if he is going to start afresh." +</P> + +<P> +"Doubt?" +</P> + +<P> +But Betty still had that conversation in the woods +in her mind. +</P> + +<P> +"I mustn't judge him. His own future actions +are all that matter. The past is gone, and can be +wiped out. I would give a lot to see him—right +himself." +</P> + +<P> +"That is the spirit, dear," Aunt Mary put in. +"Your uncle is quite right: we must forgive him." +</P> + +<P> +Betty nodded; but remained silent. She was +half inclined to tell them all she had heard, but it +occurred to her that perhaps she had interpreted it +all wrong—and yet—anyway, if he were sincere, if +he really meant all he had said to her uncle she +must not, had no right to do, or say, anything that +could prejudice him. So she kept silent, and her +uncle went on. +</P> + +<P> +"He's off to-morrow on the east-bound mail. +That's why he was waiting to see me to-night. +He told me he had heard I was going up into the +hills, and waited to catch me before I went. Said +he couldn't go away without seeing me first. I +told him I was going physicking, that the camps +were down with fever, and the spread of it might +seriously interfere with Dave's work. He was very +interested, poor chap, and hoped all would come +right. He spoke of Dave in the most cordial +terms, and wished he could do something to help. +Of course, that's impossible. But I pointed out +that the whole future of Malkern, us all, depended +on the work going through. Dave would be simply +ruined if it didn't. There's a tremendous lot +of good in that boy. I always knew it. Once he +gets away from this gambling, and cuts out the +whiskey, he'll get right again. I suggested his +turning teetotaler, and he assured me he'd made +up his mind to it. Well, Betty my dear, time's +up." +</P> + +<P> +Chepstow rose from the table and filled his pipe. +Betty followed him, and put on her wraps. Aunt +Mary stood by to help to the last. +</P> + +<P> +It was less than an hour from the time of Betty's +return home that the final farewells were spoken +and the buckboard started back for the mill. Aunt +Mary watched them go. She saw them vanish into +the night, and slowly turned back across the veranda +into the house. They were her all, her loved +ones. They had gone for perhaps only a few +weeks, but their going made her feel very lonely. +She gave a deep sigh as she began to clear the remains +of the supper away. Then, slowly, two unbidden +tears welled up into her round, soft eyes and +rolled heavily down her plump cheeks. Instantly +she pulled herself together, and dashed her hand +across her eyes. And once more the steady courage +which was the key-note of her life asserted itself. +She could not afford to give way to any such +weakness. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap16"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +DISASTER AT THE MILL +</H4> + +<P> +Night closed in leaden-hued. The threat of +storm had early brought the day to a close, so that +the sunset was lost in the massing clouds banking +on the western horizon. +</P> + +<P> +Summer was well advanced, and already the luxurious +foliage of the valley was affected by the +blistering heat. The emerald of the trees and the +grass had gained a maturer hue, and only the darker +pines resisted the searching sunlight. The valley +was full ripe, and kindly nature was about to temper +her efforts and permit a breathing space. The +weather-wise understood this. +</P> + +<P> +Dave was standing at his office door watching +the approach of the electric storm, preparing to +launch its thunders upon the valley. Its progress +afforded him no sort of satisfaction. Everybody +but himself wanted rain. It had already done him +too much harm. +</P> + +<P> +He was thinking of the letter he had just received +from Bob Mason up in the hills. Its contents were +so satisfactory, and this coming rain looked like undoing +the good his staunch friends in the mountain +camps had so laboriously achieved. +</P> + +<P> +While Mason reported that the fever still had the +upper hand, its course had been checked; the epidemic +had been grappled with and held within +bounds. That was sufficiently satisfactory, seeing +Chepstow had only been up there ten days. Then, +too, Mason had had cause to congratulate himself +on another matter. A number of recruits for his +work had filtered through to his camps from +Heaven and themselves alone knew where. This +was quite good. These men were not the best of +lumbermen, but under the "camp boss" they +would help to keep the work progressing, which, in +the circumstances, was all that could be asked. +</P> + +<P> +A few minutes later Dave departed into the +mills. Since the mill up the river had been converted +and set to work, and Simon Odd had been +given temporary charge of it, he shared with Dawson +the work of overseeing. +</P> + +<P> +As he mounted to the principal milling floor the +great syren shrieked out its summons to the night +shift, and sent the call echoing and reëchoing +down the valley. There was no cessation of work. +The "relief" stood ready, and the work was passed +on from hand to hand. +</P> + +<P> +Dave saw his foreman standing close by No. 1, +and he recognized the relief as Mansell. Dawson +was watching the man closely, and judging by the +frown on his face, it was plain that something was +amiss. He moved over to him and beckoned him +into the office. +</P> + +<P> +"What's wrong?" he demanded, as soon as the +door was closed. +</P> + +<P> +Dawson was never the man to choose his words +when he had a grievance. That was one of the +reasons his employer liked him. He was so rough, +and so straightforward. He had a grievance now. +</P> + +<P> +"I ain't no sort o' use for these schoolhouse +ways," he said, with the added force of an oath. +</P> + +<P> +Dave waited for his next attempt. +</P> + +<P> +"That skunk Mansell. He's got back to-night. +He ain't been on the time-sheet for nigh to a +week." +</P> + +<P> +"You didn't tell me? Still, he's back." +</P> + +<P> +Dave smiled into the other's angry face, and his +manner promptly drew an explosion from the hot-headed +foreman. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, he's back. But he wouldn't be if I was +boss. That's the sort o' Sunday-school racket I +ain't no use for. He's back, because you say he's +to work right along. Sort of to help him. Yes, +he's back. He's been fightin'-drunk fer six nights, +and I'd hate to say he's dead sober now." +</P> + +<P> +"Yet you signed him on. Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, as to that, he's sober, I guess. But the +drink's in him. I tell you, boss, he's rotten—plumb +rotten—when the drink's in him. I know +him. Say——" +</P> + +<P> +But Dave had had enough. +</P> + +<P> +"You say he's sober—well, let it go at that. +The man can do his work. That's the important +thing to us. Just now we can't bother with his +morals. Still, you'd best keep an eye on him." +</P> + +<P> +He turned to his books, and Dawson busied himself +with the checkers' sheets. For some time both +men worked without exchanging a word, and the +only interruption was the regular coming of the +tally boys, who brought the check slips of the lumber +measurements. +</P> + +<P> +Through the thin partitions the roar of machinery +was incessant, and at frequent intervals the +hoarse shouts of the "checkers" reached them. +But this disturbed them not at all. It was what +they were used to, what they liked to hear, for it +told of the work going forward without hitch of +any sort. +</P> + +<P> +At last the master of the mills looked up from a +mass of figures. He had been making careful calculations. +</P> + +<P> +"We're short, Dawson," he said briefly. +</P> + +<P> +"Short by half a million feet," the foreman returned, +without even looking round. +</P> + +<P> +"How's Odd doing up the river?" +</P> + +<P> +"Good. The machinery's newer, I guess." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. But we can't help that. We've no time +for installing new machinery here. Besides, I can't +spare the capital." +</P> + +<P> +Dawson looked round. +</P> + +<P> +"'Tain't that," he said. "We're short of the +right stuff in the boom. Lestways, we was yesterday. +A hundred and fifty logs. We're doing better +to-day. Though not good enough. It's that +dogone fever, I guess." +</P> + +<P> +"What's in the reserve?" +</P> + +<P> +"Fifteen hundred logs now. I've drew on them +mighty heavy. We've used up that number twice +over a'ready. I'm scairt to draw further. You see, +it's a heap better turning out short than using up +that. If we're short on the cut only us knows it. +If we finish up our reserve, and have to shut down +some o' the saws, other folks'll know it, and we +ain't lookin' for that trouble." +</P> + +<P> +Dave closed his book with a slam. All his recent +satisfaction was gone in the discovery of the +shortage. He had not suspected it. +</P> + +<P> +"I must send up to Mason. It's—it's hell!" +</P> + +<P> +"It's wuss!" +</P> + +<P> +Dave swung round on his loyal assistant. +</P> + +<P> +"Use every log in the reserve. Every one, +mind. We've got to gamble. If Mason keeps us +short we're done anyway. Maybe the fever will +let up, and things'll work out all right." +</P> + +<P> +Dave flung his book aside and stood up. His +heavy face was more deeply lined than it had been +at the beginning of summer. He looked to be +nearer fifty than thirty. The tremendous work and +anxiety were telling. +</P> + +<P> +"Get out to the shoots," he went on, in a sharp +tone of command he rarely used. "I'll see to the +tally. Keep 'em right at it. Squeeze the saws, +and get the last foot out of 'em. Use the reserve +till it's done. We're up against it." +</P> + +<P> +Dawson understood. He gave his chief one +keen glance, nodded and departed. He knew, no +one better, the tremendous burden on the man's +gigantic shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +Dave watched him go. Then he turned back to +the desk. He was not the man to weaken at the +vagaries of ill fortune. Such difficulties as at the +moment confronted him only stiffened his determination. +He would not take a beating. He was +ready to battle to the death. He quietly, yet +earnestly, cursed the fever to himself, and opened +and reread Mason's letter. One paragraph held +his attention, and he read it twice over. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"If I'm short on the cut you must not mind too +much. I can easily make it up when things +straighten out. These hands I'm taking on are +mostly 'green.' I can only thank my stars I'm +able to find them up here. I can't think where they +come from. However, they can work, which is the +great thing, and though they need considerable discipline—they're +a rebellious lot—I mean to make +them work." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +It was a great thought to the master of the mills +that he had such men as Bob Mason in his service. +He glowed with satisfaction at the thought, and it +largely compensated him for the difficulties besetting +him. He put the letter away, and looked over the +desk for a memorandum pad. Failing to find what +he required, he crossed over to a large cupboard at +the far corner of the room. It was roomy, roughly +built, to store books and stationery in. The top +shelf alone was in use, except that Dawson's winter +overcoat hung in the lower part. It was on the top +shelf that Dave expected to find the pad he wanted. +</P> + +<P> +As he reached the cupboard a terrific crash of +thunder shook the building. It was right overhead, +and pealed out with nerve-racking force and +abruptness. It was the first attack of the threatened +storm. The peal died out and all became still +again, except for the shriek of the saws beyond the +partition walls. He waited listening, and then a +strange sound reached him. So used was he to the +din of the milling floor that any unusual sound or +note never failed to draw and hold his attention. A +change of tone in the song of the saws might mean +so much. Now this curious sound puzzled him. It +was faint, so faint that only his practiced ears could +have detected it, yet, to him, it was ominously plain. +Suddenly it ceased, but it left him dissatisfied. +</P> + +<P> +He was about to resume his search when again +he started; and the look he turned upon the door +had unmistakable anxiety in it. There it was again, +faint, but so painfully distinct. He drew back, half +inclined to quit his search, but still he waited, +wondering. The noise was as though a farrier's +rasp was being lightly passed over a piece of well-oiled +steel. At last he made up his mind. He +must ascertain its meaning, and he moved to leave +the cupboard. Suddenly a terrific grinding noise +shrieked harshly above the din of the saws. It culminated +in a monstrous thud. Instinctively he +sprang back, and was standing half-inside the cupboard +when a deafening crash shook the mills to +their foundations. There was a fearful rending and +smashing of timber. Something struck the walls of +the office. It crashed through, and a smashing +blow struck the cupboard door and hurled him +against the inner wall. He thrust out his arms for +protection. The door was fast. He was a prisoner. +</P> + +<P> +Now pandemonium reigned. Crash on crash followed +in rapid succession. It was as though the +office had become the centre of attack for an overwhelming +combination of forces. The walls and +floor shivered under the terrific onslaught. The +very building seemed to totter as though an earthquake +were in progress. But at last the end came +with a thunder upon the cupboard door, the panels +were ripped like tinder, and something vast launched +itself through the wrecked woodwork. It struck +the imprisoned man in the chest, and in a moment +he was pinned to the wall, gasping under ribs bending +to the crushing weight which felt to be wringing +the very life out of him. +</P> + +<P> +A deadly quiet fell as suddenly as the turmoil +had arisen, and his quick ears told him that the saws +were still, and all work had ceased in the mill. But +the pause was momentary. A second later a great +shouting arose. Men's voices, loud and hoarse, +reached him, and the rushing of heavy feet was significant +of the disaster. +</P> + +<P> +And he was helpless, a prisoner. +</P> + +<P> +He tried to move. His agony was appalling. +His ribs felt to be on the verge of cracking under +the enormous weight that held him. He raised his +arms, but the pain of the effort made him gasp and +drop them. Yet he knew he must escape from his +prison. He knew that he was needed outside. +</P> + +<P> +The shouting grew. It took a definite tone, and +became a cry that none could mistake. Dave +needed no repetition of it to convince him of the +dread truth. The fire spectre loomed before his +eyes, and horror nigh drove him to frenzy. +</P> + +<P> +In his mind was conjured a picture—a ghastly +picture, such as all his life he had dreaded and shut +out of his thoughts. His brain suddenly seemed to +grow too big for his head. It grew hot, and his +temples hammered. A surge of blood rose with a +rush through his great veins. His muscles strung +tense, and his hands clenched upon the imprisoning +beam. He no longer felt any pain from the crushing +weight. He was incapable of feeling anything. +It was a moment when mind and body were charged +with a maddening force that no other time could +command. With his elbows planted against the +wall behind him, with his lungs filled with a deep +whistling breath, he thrust at the beam with every +ounce of his enormous strength put forth. +</P> + +<P> +He knew all his imprisonment meant. Not to +himself alone. Not to those shouting men outside. +It was the mills. Hark! Fire! Fire! The cry +was on every hand. The mills—his mills—were +afire! +</P> + +<P> +He struggled as never before in his life had he +struggled. He struggled till the sweat poured from +his temples, till his hands lacerated, till the veins of +his neck stood out like straining ropes, till it seemed +as though his lungs must burst. He was spurred +by a blind fury, but the beam remained immovable. +</P> + +<P> +Hark! The maddening cry filled the air. Fire! +Fire! Fire! It was everywhere driving him, +urging him, appealing. It rang in his brain with +an exquisite torture. It gleamed at him in flaming +letters out of the darkness. His mill! +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly a cry broke from him as he realized the +futility of his effort. It was literally wrung from +him in the agony of his soul; nor was he aware that +he had spoken. +</P> + +<P> +"God, give me strength!" +</P> + +<P> +And as the cry went up he hurled himself upon +the beam with the fury of a madman. +</P> + +<P> +Was it in answer to his prayer? The beam gave. +It moved. It was so little, so slight; but it moved. +And now, with every fibre braced, he attacked it in +one final effort. It gave again. It jolted, it lifted, +its rough end tearing the flesh of his chest under his +clothing. It tottered for a moment. He struggled +on, his bulging eyes and agonized gasping telling +plainly of the strain. Inch by inch it gave before +him. His muscles felt to be wrenching from the +containing tissues, his breathing was spasmodic +and whistling, his teeth were grinding together. +It gave further, further. Suddenly, with a crash, +it fell, the door was wrenched from its hinges, and +he was free! +</P> + +<P> +He dashed out into the wreck of his office. All +was in absolute darkness. He stumbled his way +over the debris which covered the floor, and finally +reached the shattered remains of the doorway. +</P> + +<P> +Now he was no longer in darkness. The milling +floor was all too brilliantly lit by the leaping flames +down at the "shoot" end of the No. 1 rollers. He +waited for nothing, but ran toward the fire. Beyond, +dimly outlined in the lurid glow, he could +see the men. He saw Dawson and others struggling +up the shoot with nozzle and hose, and he put +his hands to his mouth and bellowed encouragement. +</P> + +<P> +"Five hundred dollars if you get her under!" he +cried. +</P> + +<P> +If any spur were needed, that voice was sufficient. +it was the voice of the master the lumber-jacks +knew. +</P> + +<P> +Dawson on the lead struggled up, and as he +came Dave shouted again. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, boy! Sling it hard! And pass the +word to pump like hell!" +</P> + +<P> +He reached out over the shoot. Dawson threw +the nozzle. And as Dave caught it a stream of +water belched from the spout. +</P> + +<P> +None knew better than he the narrowness of the +margin between saving and losing the mills. Another +minute and all would have been lost. The +whole structure was built of resinous pine, than +which there is nothing more inflammable. The +fire had got an alarming hold even in those few +minutes, and for nearly an hour victory and disaster +hung in the balance. Nor did Dave relinquish his +post while any doubt remained. It was not until +the flames were fully under control that he left the +lumber-jacks to complete the work. +</P> + +<P> +He was weary—more weary than he knew. It +seemed to him that in that brief hour he had gone +through a lifetime of struggle, both mental and +physical. He was sore in body and soul. This +disaster had come at the worst possible time, and, +as a result, he saw in it something like a week's +delay. The thought was maddening, and his ill +humor found vent in the shortness of his manner +when Dawson attempted to draw him aside. +</P> + +<P> +"Out with it, man," he exclaimed peevishly. +</P> + +<P> +Dawson hesitated. He noticed for the first time +the torn condition of his chief's clothes, and the +blood stains on the breast of his shirt. Then he +blurted out his thankfulness in a tone that made +Dave regret his impatience. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm a'mighty thankful you're safe, boss," he said +fervently. Then, after a pause, "But you—you got +the racket? You're wise to it?" +</P> + +<P> +Dave shrugged. Reaction had set in. Nothing +seemed to matter, the cause or anything. The mill +was safe. He cared for nothing else. +</P> + +<P> +"Something broke, I s'pose," he said almost indifferently. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure. Suthin' bust. It bust on purpose. Get +it?" +</P> + +<P> +The foreman's face lit furiously as he made his +announcement. +</P> + +<P> +Dave turned on him. All his indifference vanished +in a twinkling. +</P> + +<P> +"Eh? Not—not an accident?" +</P> + +<P> +In an access of loyal rage Dawson seized him by +the arm in a nervous clutch, and tried to drag him +forward. +</P> + +<P> +"Come on," he cried. "Let's find him. It's +Mansell!" +</P> + +<P> +With a sudden movement Dave flung him off, +and the force he used nearly threw the foreman off +his feet. His eyes were burning like two live coals. +</P> + +<P> +"Come on!" he cried harshly, and Dawson was +left to follow as he pleased. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap17"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE LAST OF THE SAWYER +</H4> + +<P> +Dave's lead took the foreman in the direction of +the wrecked office. Now, in calmer moments, the +full extent of the damage became apparent. The +first three sets of rollers were hopelessly wrecked, +and the saws were twisted and their settings broken +and contorted out of all recognition. Then the fire +had practically destroyed the whole of the adjacent +northwest corner of the mill. The office was a +mere skeleton, a shattered shell, and the walls and +flooring adjoining had been torn and battered into +a complete ruin. In the midst of all this, half a +dozen heavy logs, in various stages of trimming, +lay scattered about where the machinery happened +to have thrown them. +</P> + +<P> +It was a sickening sight to the master of the +mills, but in his present mood he put the feeling +from him, lost in a furious desire to discover the +author of the dastardly outrage. +</P> + +<P> +He paused for a moment as one great log lying +across half a dozen of the roller beds barred his +way. He glanced swiftly over the wreckage. Then +he turned to the man following him. +</P> + +<P> +"Any of the boys cut up?" he inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"Some o' them is pretty mean damaged," Dawson +replied. "But it ain't too bad, I guess. I 'lows +it was sheer luck. But ther's Mansell. We ain't +located him." +</P> + +<P> +Mansell was uppermost in his mind. He could +think of nothing, and no one, else. He wanted to +get his hands about the fellow's throat. In his rage +he felt that the only thing to give him satisfaction +at the moment would be to squeeze the fellow's +life slowly out of him. Dawson was a savage when +roused, nor did he make pretense of being otherwise. +If he came across the sawyer—well, perhaps +it was a good thing that Dave was with him—that +is, a good thing for Mansell. +</P> + +<P> +Dave scrambled over the log and the two men +hurried on to the saw that had been Mansell's. +Neither spoke until this was reached. Then Dave +turned. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, go you right on over by the crane and +rake around there. Maybe he jumped the boom +and got out that way. I'll be along directly." +</P> + +<P> +It was a mere excuse. He wanted to investigate +alone. The foreman obeyed, although reluctantly. +</P> + +<P> +The moment he was gone, Dave jumped up on +the rollers to examine the machinery that had held +the saw. The light of the dying fire was insufficient, +and he was forced to procure a lantern. His +first anger had passed now, and he was thoroughly +alert. His practiced eye lost no detail that could +afford the least possible clue to the cause of the +smash. Dawson had said it was Mansell, and that +it was no accident. But then he knew well enough +that Dawson had a bad enough opinion of the sawyer, +and since the smash had apparently originated on +No. 1, he had probably been only too glad to jump +to the conclusion. For himself, he was personally +determined to avoid any prejudice. +</P> + +<P> +He quickly discovered that the saw in question +had been broken off short. The settings were desperately +twisted, and he knew that the force capable +of doing this could have only been supplied by +the gigantic log that had been trimming at the +moment. Therefore the indication must come from +the saw itself. He searched carefully, and found +much of the broken blade. The upper portions +were broken clean. There was neither dinge nor +bend in them. But the lower portions were less +clean. One piece particularly looked as though a +sharp instrument had been at work upon it. Then +the memory of that faint rasping sound, which had +been the first thing to attract his attention before +the smash, came back to him. He grew hot with +rising anger, and stuffed the piece of saw-blade inside +his shirt. +</P> + +<P> +"The cur!" he muttered. "Why? Why? +Guess Dawson was right, after all. The liquor <i>was</i> +in him. But why should he try to smash us?" +</P> + +<P> +He jumped down to the alleyway, intending to +join his foreman, when a fresh thought occurred to +him. He looked over at the remains of the office, +then he glanced up and down at the broken rollers +of No. 1. And his lips shut tight. +</P> + +<P> +"I was in there," he said to himself, with his +eyes on the wrecked office, "and—he knew it." +</P> + +<P> +At that moment Dawson's excited voice interrupted +him. "Say, boss, come right along here. +Guess I've got him." +</P> + +<P> +Dave joined him hurriedly. He found the foreman +bending over a baulk of timber, one that had +evidently been hurled there in the smash. It was +lying across the sill of the opening over the boom, +projecting a long way out. Beneath it, just where +it rested on the sill, but saved from its full weight +by the cant at which it was resting, a human figure +was stretched out face downward. +</P> + +<P> +Dawson was examining the man's face when +Dave reached him, and started to explain hurriedly. +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't rightly rec'nize him," he said. "Y'see +he's got out of his workin' kit. Might ha' bin goin' +to the Meetin'. He was sure lightin' out of here +for keeps." +</P> + +<P> +To Dave the prostrate figure suggested all that +the foreman said. The man had calculated that +smash—manufactured it. No more evidence was +needed. He had got himself ready for a bolt for +safety, preferring the boom as offering the best +means of escape and the least chance of detection. +Once outside there would be no difficulty in getting +away. As Dawson said, his clothes suggested +a hurried journey. They were the thick frieze the +lumber-jack wears in winter, and would be ample +protection for summer nights out in the open. +Yes, it had been carefully thought out. But the +reason of this attack on himself puzzled him, and he +repeatedly asked himself "Why?" +</P> + +<P> +There could not be much question as to the +man's condition. If he were not yet dead, he +must be very near it, for the small of his back was +directly under the angle of the beam and crushed +against the sill. Dave stood up from his examination. +</P> + +<P> +"Get one of the boys, quick," he said. "Start +him out at once for Doc Symons, over at High +River. It's only fifteen miles. He'll be along before +morning anyhow. I'll carry—this down to +the office. Don't say a word around the mill. We've +just had an—accident. See? And say, Dawson, +you're looking for a raise, and you're going to get +it, that is if this mill's in full work this day week. +We're short of logs—well, this'll serve as an excuse +for saws being idle. 'It's an ill wind,' eh? Meantime, +get what saws you can going. Now cut +along." +</P> + +<P> +The foreman's gratitude shone in his eyes. Had +Dave given him the least encouragement he would +undoubtedly have made him what he considered an +elegant speech of thanks, but his employer turned +from him at once and set about releasing the imprisoned +man. As soon as he had prized the beam +clear he gathered him up in his arms and bore him +down the spiral staircase to the floor below. Then +he hurried on to his office with his burden. +</P> + +<P> +And as he went he wondered. The sawyer +might dislike Dawson. But he had no cause for +grudge against him, Dave. Then why had he +waited until he was alone in the tally room? The +whole thing looked so like a direct attack upon +himself, rather than on the mills, that he was more +than ever puzzled. He went back over the time +since he had employed Mansell, and he could not +remember a single incident that could serve him as +an excuse for such an attack. It might have been +simply the madness of drink, and yet it seemed too +carefully planned. Yes, that was another thing. +Mansell had been on the drink for a week, "fighting-drunk," +Dawson had said. In the circumstances +it was not reasonable for him to plan the +thing so carefully. Then a sudden thought occurred +to him. Were there others in it? Was Mansell +only the tool? +</P> + +<P> +He was suddenly startled by a distinct sound +from the injured man. It was the sawyer's voice, +harsh but inarticulate, and it brought with it a suggestion +that he might yet learn the truth. He increased +his pace and reached the office a few +moments later. +</P> + +<P> +Here he prepared a pile of fur rugs upon the +floor and laid the sawyer upon it. Then he waited +for some minutes, but, as nothing approaching consciousness +resulted, he finally left him, intending to +return again when the doctor arrived. There was +so much to be done in the mill that he could delay +his return to it no longer. +</P> + +<P> +It was nearly four hours later when he went back +to his office. He had seen the work of salvage in +order, and at last had a moment to spare to attend +to himself. He needed it. He was utterly weary, +and his lacerated chest was giving him exquisite +pain. +</P> + +<P> +He found Mansell precisely as he left him. Apparently +there had been no movement of any sort. +He bent over him and felt his heart. It was beating +faintly. He lifted the lids of his closed eyes, +and the eyeballs moved as the light fell upon them. +</P> + +<P> +He turned away and began to strip himself of his +upper garments. There was a gash in his chest +fully six inches long, from which the blood was +steadily, though sluggishly, flowing. His clothes +were saturated and caked with it. He bathed the +wound with the drinking water in the bucket, and +tearing his shirt into strips made himself a temporary +bandage. This done, he turned to his chair to +sit down, when, glancing over at the sick man, he +was startled to find his eyes open and staring in his +direction. +</P> + +<P> +He at once went over to him. +</P> + +<P> +"Feeling better, Mansell?" he inquired. +</P> + +<P> +The man gave no sign of recognition. His eyes +simply stared at him. For a moment he thought +he was dead, but a faint though steady breathing +reassured him. Suddenly an idea occurred to him, +and he went to a cupboard and produced a bottle of +brandy. Pouring some out into a tin cup, with +some difficulty he persuaded it into Mansell's +mouth. Then he waited. The staring eyes began +to move, and there was a decided fluttering of the +eyelids. A moment later the lips moved, and an +indistinct but definite sound came from them. +</P> + +<P> +"How are you now?" Dave asked. +</P> + +<P> +There was another long pause, during which the +man's eyes closed again. Then they reopened, and +he deliberately turned his head away. +</P> + +<P> +"You—didn't—get—hurt?" he asked, in faint, +spasmodic gasps. +</P> + +<P> +"No." Dave leaned over him. "Have some +more brandy?" +</P> + +<P> +The man turned his head back again. He didn't +answer, but the look in his eyes was sufficient. +This time Dave poured out more, and there was no +difficulty in administering it. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" he suggested, as the color slowly crept +over the man's face. +</P> + +<P> +"Good—goo——" +</P> + +<P> +The sound died away, and the eyes closed again. +But only to reopen quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"He—said—you'd—get—killed," he gasped. +</P> + +<P> +"He—who?" +</P> + +<P> +"Jim." +</P> + +<P> +The sawyer's eyelids drooped again. Without a +moment's hesitation Dave plied him with more of +the spirit. +</P> + +<P> +"You mean Truscott?" he asked sharply. He +was startled, but he gave no sign. He realized that +at any time the man might refuse to say more. +Then he added: "He's got it in for me." +</P> + +<P> +The sick man remained perfectly still for some +seconds. His brain seemed to move slowly. When +he did speak, his voice had grown fainter. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +Dave's face was hard and cold as he looked +down at him. He was just about to formulate +another question, when the door opened and Dr. +Symons hurried in. He was a brisk man, and +took the situation in at a glance. +</P> + +<P> +"A smash?" he inquired. Then, his eyes on +the bottle at Dave's side: "What's that—brandy?" +</P> + +<P> +"Brandy." The lumberman passed it across to +him. "Yes, a smash-up. This poor chap's badly +damaged, I'm afraid. Found him with a heavy +beam lying across the small of his back. You +were the nearest doctor, so I sent for you. Eh? +oh, yes," as the doctor pointed at the blood on his +clothes. "When you've finished with him you can +put a stitch in me—some of the boys too. I'll +leave you to it, Doc, they'll need me in the mill. I +gave him brandy, and it roused him to consciousness." +</P> + +<P> +"Right. You might get back in half an hour." +</P> + +<P> +Dr. Symons moved over to the sick man, and +Dave put on his coat and left the office. +</P> + +<P> +When he returned the doctor met him with a +grave face. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the night like?" he asked. "I've got +to ride back." +</P> + +<P> +He went to the door, and Dave followed him +out. +</P> + +<P> +"His back is broken," he said, when they were +out of ear-shot. "It's just a question of hours." +</P> + +<P> +"How many?" +</P> + +<P> +"Can't say with any certainty. It's badly +smashed, and no doubt other things besides. Paralysis +of the——" +</P> + +<P> +"Has he said anything? Has he shown any inclination +to talk?" +</P> + +<P> +"No. That is, he looked around the room a +good deal as though looking for some one. Maybe +you." +</P> + +<P> +"Can nothing be done for the poor chap?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing. Better get him a parson. I'll come +over to-morrow to see him, if he's alive. Anyway +I'll be needed to sign a certificate. I must get back +to home by daylight. I've got fever patients. +Now just come inside, and I'll fix you up. Then +I'll go and see to the boys. After that, home." +</P> + +<P> +"You're sure nothing——" +</P> + +<P> +"Plumb sure! Sure as I am you're going to +have a mighty bad chest if you don't come inside +and let me stop that oozing blood I see coming +through your clothes." +</P> + +<P> +Without further protest Dave followed the doctor +into the office, and submitted to the operation. +</P> + +<P> +"That's a rotten bad place," he assured him, in +his brisk way. "You'll have to lie up. You ought +to be dead beat from loss of blood. Gad, man, you +must go home, or I won't answer——" +</P> + +<P> +But Dave broke in testily. +</P> + +<P> +"Right ho, Doc, you go and see to the boys. +Send your bill in to me for the lot." +</P> + +<P> +As soon as he had gone, Dave sat thoughtfully +gazing at the doomed sawyer. Presently he +glanced round at the brandy bottle. The doctor +had positively said the poor fellow was doomed. +He rose from his seat and poured out a stiff drink. +Then he knelt down, and supporting the man's +head, held it to his lips. He drank it eagerly. +Dave knew it had been his one pleasure in life. +Then he went back to his chair. +</P> + +<P> +"Feeling comfortable?" he inquired gently. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, boss," came the man's answer promptly. +Then, "Wot did the Doc say?" +</P> + +<P> +"Guess you're handing in your checks," Dave replied, +after a moment's deliberation. +</P> + +<P> +The sawyer's eyes were on the brandy bottle. +</P> + +<P> +"How long?" he asked presently. +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe hours. He couldn't say." +</P> + +<P> +"'E's wrong, boss. 'Tain't hours. I'm mighty +cold, an'—it's creepin' up quick." +</P> + +<P> +Dave looked at his watch. It was already past +two o'clock. +</P> + +<P> +"He said he'd come and see you in the morning." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll be stiff by then," the dying man persisted, +with his eyes still on the bottle. "Say, boss," he +went on, "that stuff's a heap warming—an' I'm +cold." +</P> + +<P> +Dave poured him out more brandy. Then he +took off his own coat and laid it over the man's +legs. His fur coat and another fur robe were in the +cupboard, and these he added. And the man's +thanks came awkwardly. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't send for a parson," Dave said regretfully, +after a few moments' silence. "I'd like to, +but Parson Tom's away up in the hills. It's only +right——" +</P> + +<P> +"He's gone up to the hills?" the sick man interrupted +him, as though struck by a sudden thought. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. It's fever." +</P> + +<P> +Mansell lay staring straight up at the roof. And +as the other watched him he felt that some sort of +struggle was going on in his slowly moving mind. +Twice his lips moved as though about to speak, but +for a long time no sound came from them. The +lumberman felt extreme pity for him. He had forgotten +that this man had so nearly ruined him, so +nearly caused his death. He only saw before him +a dimly flickering life, a life every moment threatening +to die out. He knew how warped had been +that life, how worthless from a purely human point +of view, but he felt that it was as precious in the +sight of One as that of the veriest saint. He racked +his thoughts for some way to comfort those last +dread moments. +</P> + +<P> +Presently the dying man's head turned slightly +toward him. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm goin', boss," he said with a gasp. "It's +gettin' up—the cold." +</P> + +<P> +"Will you have—brandy?" +</P> + +<P> +The lighting of the man's eyes made a verbal answer +unnecessary. Dave gave him nearly half a +tumbler, and his ebbing life flickered up again like +a dying candle flame. +</P> + +<P> +"The Doc said you wus hurt bad, boss. I heard +him. I'm sorry—real miser'ble sorry—now." +</P> + +<P> +"Now?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yep—y' see I'm—goin'." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm kind o' glad ther' ain't no passon around. +Guess ther's a heap I wouldn't 'a' said to him." +</P> + +<P> +The dying man's eyes closed for a moment. +Dave didn't want to break in on his train of +thought, so he kept silent. +</P> + +<P> +"Y' see," Mansell went on again almost at once, +"he kind o' drove me to it. That an' the drink. +He give me the drink too. Jim's cur'us mean by +you." +</P> + +<P> +"But Jim's gone east days ago." +</P> + +<P> +"No, he ain't. He's lyin' low. He ain't east +now." +</P> + +<P> +"You're sure?" Dave's astonishment crept into +his tone. +</P> + +<P> +Mansell made a movement which implied his +certainty. +</P> + +<P> +"He was to give me a heap o' money. The +money you give fer his mill. He wants you +smashed. He wants the mill smashed. An' I did +it. Say, I bust that saw o' mine, an' she was a +beaut'," he added, with pride and regret. "I got a +rasp on to it. But it's all come back on me. Guess +I'll be goin' to hell fer that job—that an' others. +Say, boss——" +</P> + +<P> +He broke off, looking at the brandy bottle. Dave +made no pretense at demur. The man was rapidly +dying, and he felt that the spirit gave him a certain +ease of mind. The ethics of his action did not +trouble him. If he could give a dying man comfort, +he would. +</P> + +<P> +"There's no hell for those who are real sorry," +he said, when the fellow had finished his drink. +"The good God is so thankful for a man's real sorrow +for doing wrong that He forgives him right +out. He forgives a sight easier than men do. +You've nothing to worry over, lad. You're sorry—that's +the real thing." +</P> + +<P> +"Sure, boss?" +</P> + +<P> +"Dead sure." +</P> + +<P> +"Say, boss, I'd 'a' hate to done you up. But ther' +was the money, an'—I wanted it bad." +</P> + +<P> +"Sure you did. You see we all want a heap the +good God don't reckon good for us——" +</P> + +<P> +The man's eyes suddenly closed while Dave was +speaking. Then they opened again, and this time +they were staring wildly. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm—goin'," he gasped. +</P> + +<P> +Dave was on his knees in a second, supporting +his head. He poured some brandy into the gasping +mouth, and for a brief moment the man rallied. +Then his breathing suddenly became violent. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm—done!" he gasped in a final effort, and a +moment later the supporting hand felt the lead-like +weight of the lolling head. The man was dead. +</P> + +<P> +The lumberman reverently laid the head back +upon the rugs, and for some minutes remained +where he was kneeling. His rough, plain face was +buried in his hands. Then he rose to his feet and +stood looking down upon the lifeless form. A +great pity welled up in his heart. Poor Mansell +was beyond the reach of a hard fate, beyond the +reach of earthly temptation and the hard knocks of +men. And he felt it were better so. He covered +the body carefully over with the fur robe, and sat +down at his desk. +</P> + +<P> +He sat there for some minutes listening to the +sounds of the workers at the mills. He was weary—so +weary. But at last he could resist the call no +longer, and he went out to join in the labor that was +his very life. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap18"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +FACE TO FACE +</H4> + +<P> +For the few remaining hours of night Dave took +no leisure. He pressed forward the work of repairing +the damage, with a zest that set Joel Dawson +herding his men on to almost superhuman feats. +There was no rest taken, no rest asked. And it +said something for the devotion of these lumber-jacks +to their employer that no "grouse" or murmur +was heard. +</P> + +<P> +The rest which the doctor had ordered Dave to +take did not come until long after his breakfast +hour, and then only it came through sheer physical +inability to return to his work. His breakfast was +brought to the office, and he made a weak pretense +of eating. Then, as he rose from his seat, for the +first time in his life he nearly fainted. He saved +himself, however, by promptly sitting down again, +and in a few seconds his head fell forward on his +chest and he was sound asleep, lost in the dreamless +slumber of exhaustion. +</P> + +<P> +Two hours later Dawson put his head in through +the office doorway. He saw the sleeping man and +retreated at once. He understood. For himself, +he had not yet come to the end of his tether. Besides, +Simon Odd would relieve him presently. +Then, too, there were others upon whom he could +depend for help. +</P> + +<P> +It was noon when a quiet tap came at the office +door. Dave's old mother peeped in. She had +heard of the smash and was fearful for her boy. +Seeing him asleep she tiptoed across the room to +him. She had met the postmaster on her way, and +brought the mail with her. Now she deposited it +on his desk and stood looking down at the great +recumbent figure with eyes of the deepest love and +anxiety. All signs of his lacerated chest were concealed +and she was spared what would have been +to her a heartbreaking sight. Her gentle heart +only took in the unutterably weary attitude of the +sleeper. That was sufficient to set her shaking her +gray head and sighing heavily. The work, she told +herself sadly, was killing him. Nor did she know +at the moment how near to the truth she was. +</P> + +<P> +For a moment she bent over him, and her aged +lips lightly touched his mass of wiry hair. To the +world he might be unsightly, he might be ungainly, +he might be—well, all he believed himself to be; to +her he possessed every beauty, every virtue a doting +mother can bestow upon her offspring. +</P> + +<P> +She passed out of the office as silently as she +came, and the man's stertorous breathing rose and +fell steadily, the only sound in that room of death. +</P> + +<P> +Two hours later he awoke with a start. A serving +girl blundered into the room with a basket of +food. His mother had sent over his dinner. +</P> + +<P> +The girl's apologies were profuse. +</P> + +<P> +"I jest didn't know, Mr. Dave. I'm sure sorry. +Your ma sent me over with these things, an' she +said as I was to set 'em right out for you. Y' see +she didn't just say you was sleepin', she——" +</P> + +<P> +"All right, Maggie," Dave said kindly. Then +he looked at his watch, and to his horror found it +was two o'clock. He had slept the entire morning +through. +</P> + +<P> +He swiftly rose from his seat and stretched +himself. He was stiff and sore, and that stretch +reminded him painfully of his wounded chest. +Then his eyes fell upon the ominous pile of furs in +the corner. Ah, there was that to see to. +</P> + +<P> +He watched the girl set out his dinner and remembered +he was hungry. And the moment she +left the room he fell upon the food with avidity. +Yes, he felt better—much better, and he was glad. +He could return to his work, and see that everything +possible was done, and then there was—that +other matter. +</P> + +<P> +He had just finished his food when Dr. Symons +came in with an apology on his lips. +</P> + +<P> +"A bit late," he exclaimed. "Sorry I couldn't +make it before. Ah," his quick eyes fell upon the +pile of furs. "Dead?" he inquired. +</P> + +<P> +Dave nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure," the other rattled on. "Had to be. +Knew it. Well, there are more good sawyers to be +had. Let's look at your chest." +</P> + +<P> +Dave submitted, and then the doctor, at the lumberman's +request, went off with a rush to see about +the arrangements for the sawyer's burial. +</P> + +<P> +He had hardly left the place, and Dave was just +thinking of going across to the mill again, when +there was another call. He was standing at the +window. He wanted to return at once to his work, +but for some, to him, unaccountable reason he was +a prey to a curious reluctance; it was a form of inertia +he had never before experienced, and it half +annoyed him, yet was irresistibly fascinating. He +stood there more or less dreamily, watching the +buzzing flies as they hurled themselves against the +dirty glass panes. He idly tried to count them. +He was not in the least interested, but at that moment, +as a result of his wound and his weariness, +his brain felt that it needed the rest of such trivialities. +</P> + +<P> +It was while occupied in this way that he saw +Jim Truscott approaching, and the sight startled +him into a mental activity that just then his best +interests in the mills failed to stir him to. +</P> + +<P> +Then Mansell had told the truth. Jim had not +gone east as he had assured Tom Chepstow it was +his intention to do. Why was he coming to him +now? A grim thought passed through his mind. +Was it the fascination which the scene of a crime +always has for the criminal? He sat down at his +desk, and, when his visitor's knock came, appeared +to be busy with his mail. +</P> + +<P> +Truscott came in. Dave did not look up, but +the tail of his eye warned him of a peculiarly furtive +manner in his visitor. +</P> + +<P> +"Half a minute," he said, in a preoccupied tone. +"Just sit down." +</P> + +<P> +The other silently obeyed, while Dave tore open +a telegram at haphazard, and immediately became +really absorbed in its contents. +</P> + +<P> +It was a wire from his agent in Winnipeg, and +announced that the railroad strike had been settled, +and the news would be public property in twenty-four +hours. It further told him that he hoped in +future he would have no further hitch to report in +the transportation of the Malkern timber, and that +now he could cope with practically any quantity +Dave might ship down. The news was very satisfactory, +except for the reminder it gave him of the +disquieting knowledge that his mills were temporarily +wrecked, and he could not produce the quantities +the agent hoped to ship. At least he could +not produce them for some days, and—yes, there +was that shortage from the hills to cope with, too. +</P> + +<P> +This brought him to the recollection that the +author of half his trouble was in the office, and +awaiting his pleasure. He turned at once to his +visitor, and surveyed him closely from head to foot. +</P> + +<P> +Truscott was sitting with his back to the pile of +rugs concealing the dead sawyer. Presently their +eyes met, and in the space of that glance the lumberman's +thought flowed swiftly. Nor, when he +spoke, did his tone suggest either anger or resentment, +merely a cool inquiry. +</P> + +<P> +"You—changed your mind?" he said. +</P> + +<P> +"What about?" Truscott was on the defensive +at once. +</P> + +<P> +"You didn't go east, then?" +</P> + +<P> +The other's gaze shifted at once, and his manner +suggested annoyance with himself for his display. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes. I went as far as Winnipeg. Guess I +got hung up by the strike, so—so I came back +again. Who told you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Tom Chepstow." +</P> + +<P> +Truscott nodded. It was some moments before +either spoke again. There was an awkwardness +between them which seemed to increase every +second. Truscott was thinking of their last meeting, +and—something else. Dave was estimating +the purpose of this visit. He understood that the +man had a purpose, and probably a very definite +one. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly the lumberman rose from his seat as +though about to terminate the interview, and his +movement promptly had the effect he desired. +Truscott detained him at once. +</P> + +<P> +"You had a bad smash, last night. That's why I +came over." +</P> + +<P> +Dave smiled. It was just the glimmer of a smile, +and frigid as a polar sunbeam. As he made no answer, +the other was forced to go on. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sorry, Dave," he continued, with a wonderful +display of sincerity. Then he hesitated, but +finally plunged into a labored apology. "I dare +say Parson Tom has told you something of what I +said to him the night he went away. He went up +to clear out the fever for you, didn't he? He's a +good chap. I hoped he'd tell you anyway. I +just—hadn't the face to come to you myself after +what had happened between us. Look here, Dave, +you've treated me 'white' since then—I mean +about that mill of mine. You see—well, I can't +just forget old days and old friendships. They're +on my conscience bad. I want to straighten up. +I want to tell you how sorry I am for what I've +done and said in the past. You'd have done right +if you'd broken my neck for me. I went east as I +said, and all these things hung on my conscience +like—like cobwebs, and I'm determined to clear +'em away. Dave, I want to shake hands before I +go for good. I want you to try and forget. The +strike's over now, and I'm going away to-day. +I——" +</P> + +<P> +He broke off. It seemed as though he had suddenly +realized the frigidity of Dave's silence and +the hollow ring of his own professions. It is doubtful +if he were shamed into silence. It was simply +that there was no encouragement to go on, and, in +spite of his effrontery, he was left confused. +</P> + +<P> +"You're going to-day?" Dave's calmness gave +no indication of his feelings. Nor did he offer to +shake hands. +</P> + +<P> +Truscott nodded. Then— +</P> + +<P> +"The smash—was it a very bad one?" +</P> + +<P> +"Pretty bad." +</P> + +<P> +"It—it won't interfere with your work—I +hope?" +</P> + +<P> +"Some." +</P> + +<P> +Dave's eyes were fixed steadily upon his visitor, +who let his gaze wander. There was something +painfully disconcerting in the lumberman's cold regard, +and in the brevity of his replies. +</P> + +<P> +"Doc Symons told me about it," the other went +on presently. "He was fetched here in the night. +He said you were hurt. But you seem all right." +</P> + +<P> +Dave made it very hard for him. There were +thoughts in the back of his head, questions that +must be answered. For an instant a doubt swept +over him, and his restless eyes came to a standstill +on the rugged face of the master of the mills. But +he saw nothing there to reassure him, or to give +him cause for alarm. It was the same as he had +always known it, only perhaps the honest gray +eyes lacked their kindly twinkle. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I'm all right. Doc talks a heap." +</P> + +<P> +"Did he lie?" +</P> + +<P> +Dave shrugged. +</P> + +<P> +"It depends what he calls hurt. Some of the +boys were hurt." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah. He didn't mention them." +</P> + +<P> +Again the conversation languished. +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't hear how the smash happened," Truscott +went on presently. +</P> + +<P> +Dave's eyes suddenly became steely. +</P> + +<P> +"It was Mansell's saw. Something broke. Then +we got afire. I just got out—a miracle. I was in +the tally room." +</P> + +<P> +The lumberman's brevity had in it the clip of +snapping teeth. If Truscott noticed it, it suited +him to ignore it. He went on quickly. His interest +was rising and sweeping him on. +</P> + +<P> +"On Mansell's saw!" he said. "When I heard +you'd got him working I wondered. He's bad for +drink. Was he drunk?" +</P> + +<P> +Dave's frigidity was no less for the smile that accompanied +his next words. +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe he'd been drinking." +</P> + +<P> +But Truscott was not listening. He was thinking +ahead, and his next question came with almost +painful sharpness. +</P> + +<P> +"Did he get—smashed?" +</P> + +<P> +"A bit." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah. Was he able to account for the—accident?" +</P> + +<P> +The man was leaning forward in his anxiety, and +his question was literally hurled at the other. +There was a look, too, in his bleared eyes which +was a mixture of devilishness and fear. All these +things Dave saw. But he displayed no feeling of +any sort. +</P> + +<P> +"Accidents don't need explaining," he said +slowly. "But I didn't say this was an accident. +Here, get your eye on that." +</P> + +<P> +He drew a piece of saw-blade from his pocket. +It was the piece he had picked up in the mill. +</P> + +<P> +"Guess it's the bit where it's 'collared' by the +driving arm." +</P> + +<P> +Truscott examined the steel closely. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" +</P> + +<P> +"It's—just smashed?" Truscott replied questioningly. +</P> + +<P> +Dave shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +"You can see where it's been filed." +</P> + +<P> +Truscott reexamined it and nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"I see now. God!" +</P> + +<P> +The exclamation was involuntary. It came at +the sudden realization of how well his work had +been carried out, and what that work meant. +Dave, watching, grasped something of its meaning. +There was that within him which guided him +surely in the mental workings of his fellow man. +He was looking into the very heart of this man +who had so desperately tried to injure him. And +what he saw, though he was angered, stirred him to +a strange pity. +</P> + +<P> +"It's pretty mean when you think of it," he said +slowly. "Makes you think some, doesn't it? +Makes you wonder what folks are made of. If you +hated, could you have done it? Could you have +deliberately set out to ruin a fellow—to take his +life? The man that did this thing figured on just +that." +</P> + +<P> +"Did he say so?" +</P> + +<P> +Truscott's face had paled, and a haunting fear +looked out of his eyes. It was the thought of discovery +that troubled him. +</P> + +<P> +Dave ignored the interruption, and went on with +his half-stern, half-pitying regard fixed upon the +other. +</P> + +<P> +"Had things gone right with him, and had the +fire got a fair hold, nothing could have saved us." +He shook his head. "That's a mean hate for a +man I've never harmed. For a man I've always +helped. You couldn't hate like that, Truscott? +You couldn't turn on the man that had so helped +you? It's a mean spirit; so mean that I can't hate +him for it. I'm sorry—that's all." +</P> + +<P> +"He must be a devil." +</P> + +<P> +The fear had gone out of Truscott's eyes. All +his cool assurance had returned. Dave was blaming +the sawyer, and he was satisfied. +</P> + +<P> +The lumberman shrugged his great shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe he is. I don't know. Maybe he's only +a poor weak foolish fellow whose wits are all +mussed up with brandy, and so he just doesn't +know what he's doing." +</P> + +<P> +"The man who filed that steel knew what he was +doing," cried Truscott. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't blame him," replied Dave—his deep +voice full and resonant like an organ note. +</P> + +<P> +But Truscott had achieved his object, and he felt +like expanding. Dave knew nothing. Suspected +nothing. Mansell had played the game for him—or +perhaps—— +</P> + +<P> +"I tell you it was a diabolical piece of villainy +on the part of a cur who——" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't raise your voice, lad," said Dave, with a +sudden solemnity that promptly silenced the other. +"Reach round behind you and lift that fur robe." +</P> + +<P> +He had risen from his seat and stood pointing +one knotty finger at the corner where the dead +man was lying. His great figure was full of +dignity, his manner had a command in it that was +irresistible to the weaker man. +</P> + +<P> +Truscott turned, not knowing what to expect. +For a second a shudder passed over him. It spent +itself as he beheld nothing but the pile of furs. +But he made no attempt to reach the robe until +Dave's voice, sternly commanding, urged him +again. +</P> + +<P> +"Lift it," he cried. +</P> + +<P> +And the other obeyed even against his will. He +reached out, while a great unaccountable fear took +hold of him and shook him. His hand touched +the robe. He paused. Then his fingers closed +upon its furry edge. He lifted it, and lifting it, beheld +the face of the dead sawyer. Strangely enough, +the glazed eyes were open, and the head was +turned, so that they looked straight into the eyes of +the living. +</P> + +<P> +The hand that held the robe shook. The nerveless +fingers relinquished their hold, and it fell back +to its place and shut out the sight. But it was some +moments before the man recovered himself. When +he did so he rose from his chair and moved as far +from the dead man as possible. This brought him +near the door, and Dave followed him up. +</P> + +<P> +"He's dead!" +</P> + +<P> +Truscott whispered the words half unconsciously, +and the tone of his voice was almost unrecognizable. +It sounded like inquiry, yet he had no need to +ask the question. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, he's dead—poor fellow," said Dave +solemnly. +</P> + +<P> +Then, after a long pause, the other dragged his +courage together. He looked up into the face +above him. +</P> + +<P> +"Did—did he say why he did it—or was he——" +</P> + +<P> +It was a stumbling question, which Dave did not +let him complete. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, he told me all—the whole story of it. +That's the door, lad. You won't need to shake +hands—now." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap19"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIX +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +IN THE MOUNTAINS +</H4> + +<P> +It was Sunday evening. Inside a capacious +"dugout" a small group of two men and a girl sat +round the stove which had just been lit. +</P> + +<P> +In the mountains, even though the heat of +August was still at its height, sundown was the +signal for the lighting of fires. Dave's lumber +camps were high up in the hills, tapping, as they +did, the upper forest belts, where grew the vast +primordial timbers. In the extreme heat of summer +the air was bracing, crisp, and suggested the +process of breathing diamonds, but with the setting +of the sun a cold shiver from the ancient glaciers +above whistled down through the trees and bit into +the bones. +</P> + +<P> +The daylight still lingered outside, and the cotton-covered +windows of the dugout let in just sufficient +of it to leave the remoter corners of the hut bathed +in rapidly growing shadow. There was a good deal +of comfort in the room, though no luxury. The +mud cemented walls were whitewashed and adorned +with illustrations from the <i>Police Gazette</i>, and other +kindred papers. For the most part the furniture +was of "home" manufacture. The chairs, and they +were all armchairs of sorts, were mere frames with +seats of strung rawhide. The table was of the +roughest but most solid make, strong enough to be +used as a chopping-block, and large enough for an +extra bed to be made down upon it. There was +a large cupboard serving the dual purpose of larder +and pantry, and, in addition to the square cook-stove, +the room was heated by a giant wood stove. +The only really orthodox piece of furniture was the +small writing-desk. +</P> + +<P> +For a dugout it was capacious, and, unlike the +usual dugout, it possessed three inner rooms backing +into the hill against which it was built. One of +these was a storeroom for dynamite and other +camp equipment, one was a bedroom, and the other +was an armory. The necessity for the latter +might be questioned, but Bob Mason, the camp +"boss," the sole authority over a great number of +lumber-jacks, more than a hundred and fifty miles +from the faintest semblance of civilization, was content +that it should be there. +</P> + +<P> +The three faces were serious enough as they +gazed down in silence at the glowing, red-hot patch +in the iron roof of the stove, and watched it spread, +wider and wider, under the forced draught of the +open damper. They had been silent for some moments, +and before that one of them had practically +monopolized the talk. It was Betty who had done +most of the talking. Bronzed with the mountain +air and sun, her cheeks flushed with interest and excitement, +her sweet brown eyes aglow, she had +finished recounting to her uncle and Bob Mason a +significant incident that had occurred to her that +afternoon on her way from the sick camp to the +dugout. +</P> + +<P> +Walking through a patch of forest which cut the +sick quarters off from the main, No. 1, camp, she +had encountered two lumber-jacks, whom she had +no recollection of having seen before. +</P> + +<P> +"They weren't like lumber-jacks," she explained, +"except for their clothes. You can't mistake a +lumber-jack's manner and speech, particularly when +he is talking to a girl. He's so self-conscious and—and +shy. Well, these men were neither. Their +speech was the same as ours might be, and their +faces, well, they were good-looking fellows, and +might never have been out of a city. I never saw +anybody look so out of place, as they did, in their +clothes. There was no beating about the bush +with them. They simply greeted me politely, +asked me if I was Miss Somers, and, when I told +them I was, calmly warned me to leave the hills +without delay—not later than to-morrow night. I +asked them for an explanation, but they only +laughed, not rudely, and repeated their warning, +adding that you, uncle, had better go too, or they +would not be answerable for the consequences. I +reminded them of the sick folk, but they only +laughed at that too. One of them cynically reminded +me they were all 'jacks' and were of no +sort of consequence whatever, in fact, if a few of +them happened to die off no one would care. He +made me angry, and I told them we should certainly +care. He promptly retorted, very sharply, +that they had not come there to hold any sort of +debate on the matter, but to give me warning. He +said that his reason in doing so was simply that I +was a girl, and that you, uncle, were a much-respected +parson, and they had no desire that any +harm should come to either of us. That was all. +After that they turned away and went off into the +forest, taking an opposite direction to the camp." +</P> + +<P> +Mason was the first to break the silence that followed +the girl's story. +</P> + +<P> +"It's serious," he said, speaking with his chin in +his hands and his elbows resting on his parted knees. +</P> + +<P> +"The warning?" inquired Chepstow, with a +quick glance at the other's thoughtful face. +</P> + +<P> +Mason nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"I've been watching this thing for weeks past," +he said, "and the worst of it is I can't make up my +mind as to the meaning of it. There's something +afoot, but—— Do you know I've sent six letters +down the river to Dave, and none of them have +been answered? My monthly budget of orders is +a week overdue. That's not like Dave. How long +have you been up here? Seven weeks, ain't it? +I've only had three letters from Dave in that time." +</P> + +<P> +The foreman flung himself back in his chair with +a look of perplexity on his broad, open face. +</P> + +<P> +"What can be afoot?" asked Chepstow, after a +pause. "The men are working well." +</P> + +<P> +"They're working as well as 'scabs' generally +do," Mason complained. "And thirty per cent, +are 'scabs,' now. They're all slackers. They're +none of them lumber-jacks. They haven't the spirit +of a 'jack.' I have to drive 'em from morning till +night. Oh, by the way, parson, that reminds me, +I've got a note for you. It's from the sutler. I +know what's in it, that is, I can guess." He drew +it from his pocket, handed it across to him. "It's +to tell you you can't have the store for service to-night. +The boys want it. They're going to have +a singsong there, or something of the sort." +</P> + +<P> +The churchman's eyes lit. +</P> + +<P> +"But he promised me. I've made arrangements. +The place is fixed up for it. They can have it +afterward, but——" +</P> + +<P> +"Hadn't you better read the note, uncle?" Betty +said gently. She detected the rising storm in his +vehemence. +</P> + +<P> +He turned at once to the note. It was short, and +its tone, though apologetic, was decided beyond +all question. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"You can't have the store to-night. I'm sorry, +but the boys insist on having it themselves. You +will understand I am quite powerless when you remember +they are my customers." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Tom Chepstow read the message from Jules +Lieberstein twice over. Then he passed it across +to Mason. Only the brightness of his eyes told of +his feelings. He was annoyed, and his fighting +spirit was stirring. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, what are you going to do?" Mason inquired, +as he passed the paper on to Betty in response +to her silent request. +</P> + +<P> +"Do? Do?" Chepstow cried, his keen eyes +shining angrily. "Why, I'll hold service there, of +course. Jules can't give a thing, and, at the last +minute, take it away like that. I've had the room +prepared and everything. I shall go and see him. +I——" +</P> + +<P> +"The trouble—whatever it is—is in that note, +too," Betty interrupted, returning him the paper +with the deliberate intention of checking his outburst. +</P> + +<P> +Mason gave her a quick glance of approval. +Though he did not approve of women in a lumber +camp, Betty's quiet capacity, her gentle womanliness, +with her great strength of character and keenness +of perception underlying it, pleased him immensely. +He admired her, and curiously enough frequently +found himself discussing affairs of the camp with +her as though she were there for the purpose of +sharing the burden of his responsibilities. In the +ordinary course this would not have happened, but +she had come at a moment when his difficulties +were many and trying. And at such a time her +ready understanding had become decided moral +support which was none the less welcome for the +fact that he failed to realize it. +</P> + +<P> +"You're right," he nodded. "There's something +doing. What's that?" +</P> + +<P> +All three glanced at the door. And there was a +look of uneasiness in each which they could not +have explained. Mason hurried across the room +with Chepstow at his heels. +</P> + +<P> +Outside, night was closing in rapidly. A gray, +misty twilight held the mountain world in a gloomy +shroud. The vast hills, and the dark woodland +belts, loomed hazily through the mist. But the +deathly stillness was broken by the rattle of wheels +and the beating of hoofs upon the hard trail. The +vehicle, whatever it was, had passed the dugout, +and the sounds of it were already dying away in +the direction of the distant camp. +</P> + +<P> +"There's a fog coming down," observed Mason, +as they returned to the stove. +</P> + +<P> +"That was a buckboard," remarked the parson. +</P> + +<P> +"And it was traveling fast and light," added +Betty. +</P> + +<P> +And each remark indicated the point of view of +the speaker. +</P> + +<P> +Mason thought less of the vehicle than he did of +the fog. Any uneasiness he felt was for his work +rather than the trouble he felt to be brewing. A +heavy fog was always a deterrent, and, at this time +of year, fogs were not unfrequent in the hills. +Chepstow was bent on the identity of the arrival, +while Betty sought the object of it. +</P> + +<P> +Mason did not return to his seat. He stood by +the stove for a moment thinking. Then he moved +across to his pea-jacket hanging on the wall and +put it on, at the same time slipping a revolver into +his pocket. Then he pulled a cloth cap well down +over his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll get a good look around the camp," he said +quietly. +</P> + +<P> +"Going to investigate?" Chepstow inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. There have been too many arrivals lately—one +way and another. I'm sick of 'em." +</P> + +<P> +Betty looked up into his face with round smiling +eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"You need a revolver—to make investigations?" +she asked lightly. +</P> + +<P> +The lumberman looked her squarely in the eyes +for a moment, and there he read something of the +thought which had prompted her question. He +smiled back at her as he replied. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a handy thing to have about you when +dealing with the scum of the earth. Lumbermen +on this continent are not the beau ideal of gentlefolk, +but when you are dealing with the class of +loafer such as I have been forced to engage lately, +well, the real lumber-jack becomes an angel of +gentleness by contrast. A gun doesn't take up +much room in your pocket, and it gives an added +feeling of security. You see, if there's any sort of +trouble brewing the man in authority is not likely +to have a healthy time. By the way, parson, I'd +suggest you give up this service to-night. Of +course it's up to you, I don't want to interfere. +You see, if the boys want that store, and you've +got it—why——" +</P> + +<P> +He broke off with a suggestive shake of the head. +Betty watched her uncle's face. +</P> + +<P> +She saw him suddenly bend down and fling the +damper wider open, and in response the stove +roared fiercely. He sat with his keen eyes fixed on +the glowing aperture, watching the rapidly brightening +light that shone through. The suggestion of +fiery rage suited his mood at the moment. +</P> + +<P> +But his anger was not of long duration. His was +an impetuous disposition generally controlled in +the end by a kindly, Christian spirit, and, a few +moments later, when he spoke, there was the mildness +of resignation in his words. +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe you're right, Mason," he said calmly. +"You understand these boys up here better than I +do. Besides, I don't want to cause you any unnecessary +trouble, and I see by your manner you're +expecting something serious." Then he added +regretfully: "But I should have liked to hold that +service. And I would have done it, in spite of our +Hebrew friend's sordid excuse. However—— By +the way, can I be of any service to you?" He +pointed at the lumberman's bulging pocket. "If +it's necessary to carry that, two are always better +than one." +</P> + +<P> +Betty sighed contentedly. She was glad that her +uncle had been advised to give up the service. Her +woman's quick wit had taken alarm for him, and—well, +she regarded her simple-minded uncle as her +care, she felt she was responsible to her aunt for him. +It was the strong maternal instinct in her which +made her yearn to protect and care for those whom +she loved. Now she waited anxiously for the foreman's +reply. To her astonishment it came with an +alacrity and ready acceptance which further stirred +her alarm. +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks," he said. "As you say two—— +Here, slip this other gun into your coat pocket." +And he reached the fellow revolver to his own from +its holster upon the wall. "Now let's get on." +</P> + +<P> +He moved toward the door. Chepstow was in +the act of following when Betty's voice stopped +him. +</P> + +<P> +"What time will you get back?" she inquired. +"How shall I know that——" +</P> + +<P> +She broke off. Her brown eyes were fixed +questioningly upon the lumberman's face. +</P> + +<P> +"We'll be around in an hour," said Mason confidently +"Meanwhile, Miss Betty, after we're +gone, just set those bars across the door. And +don't let anybody in till you hear either mine or +your uncle's voice." +</P> + +<P> +The girl understood him, she always understood +without asking a lot of questions. She was outwardly +quite calm, without the faintest trace of the +alarm she really felt. She had no fear for herself. +At that moment she was thinking of her uncle. +</P> + +<P> +After the men had gone she closed the heavy +log door but did not bar it as she had been advised; +then, returning to the stove, she sat down and +took up some sewing, prepared to await their return +with absolute faith and confidence in the lumberman's +assurance. +</P> + +<P> +She stitched on in the silence, and soon her +thoughts drifted back to the man who had so +strangely become the lodestone of her life. The +trouble suggested by Mason must be his trouble. +She wondered what could possibly happen on top +of the fever, which she and her uncle had been +fighting for the past weeks, that could further +jeopardize his contract. She could see only one +thing, and her quickness of perception in all matters +relating to the world she knew drove her straight to +the reality. She knew it was a general strike +Mason feared. She knew it by the warning she +had received, by the foreman's manner when he +prepared to leave the hut. +</P> + +<P> +She was troubled. In imagination she saw the +great edifice Dave had so ardently labored upon +toppling about his ears. In her picture she saw +him great, calm, resolute, standing amidst the +wreck, with eyes looking out straight ahead full of +that great fighting strength which was his, his heart +sore and bruised but his lips silent, his great courage +and purpose groping for the shattered foundations +that the rebuilding might not be delayed an +instant. It was her delight and pride to think of +him thus, whilst, with every heart-beat, a nervous +dread for him shook her whole body. She tried to +think wherein she could help this man who was +more to her than her own life. She bitterly hated +her own womanhood as she thought of those two +men bearing arms at that instant in his interests. +Why could not she? But she knew that privilege +was denied her. She threw her sewing aside as +though the effeminacy of it sickened her, and rose +from her seat and paced the room. "Oh, Dave, +Dave, why can't I help you?" It was the cry that +rang through her troubled brain with every moment +that the little metal clock on the desk ticked +away, while she waited for the men-folk's return. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap20"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XX +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE CHURCH MILITANT +</H4> + +<P> +Outside the hut Mason led the way. The mist +had deepened into a white fog which seemed to +deaden all sound, so quiet was everything, so silent +the grim woods all around. It had settled so heavily +that it was almost impossible to see anything beyond +the edge of the trail. There was just a hazy +shadow, like a sudden depth of mist, to mark the +woodland borders; beyond this all was gray and +desolate. +</P> + +<P> +The dugout was built at the trail-side, a trail +which had originally been made for travoying logs, +but had now become the main trail linking up the +camp with the eastern world. The camp itself—No. 1, +the main camp—was further in the woods to +the west, a distance of nearly a mile and a half by +trail, but not more than half a mile through the +woods. It was this short cut the two men took +now. They talked as they went, but in hushed +tones. It was as though the gray of the fog, and +the knowledge of their mission weighed heavily, +inspiring them with a profound feeling of caution. +</P> + +<P> +"You've not had any real trouble before?" +Chepstow asked. "I mean trouble such as would +serve you with a key to what is going on now?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, we've had occasional 'rackets,'" said Mason +easily. "But nothing serious—nothing to guide us +in this. No, we've got to find this out. You see +there's no earthly reason for trouble that I know. +The boys are paid jolly well, a sight better than I +would pay them if this was my outfit. The hours +are exacting, I admit. This huge contract has +caused that. It's affected us in most every way, +but Dave is no niggard, and the inducement has +been made more than proportionate, so there's no +kick coming on that head. Where before axemen's +work was merely a full eight hours, it now takes +'em something like nine and ten, and work like the +devil to get through even in that time. But their +wages are simply out of sight. Do you know, +there are men in this camp drawing from four to +five dollars a day clear of food and shelter? Why, +the income of some of them is positively princely." +</P> + +<P> +"What is it you think is on foot?" Chepstow +demanded, as he buttoned his coat close about his +neck to keep out the saturating mist. Then, as his +companion didn't answer at once, he added half to +himself, "It's no wonder there's fever with these +mists around." +</P> + +<P> +Bob Mason paid no heed to the last remark. +The fever had lost interest for him in the storm-clouds +he now saw ahead. Hitherto he had not +put his thoughts on the matter into concrete form. +He had not given actual expression to his fears. +There had been so little to guide him. Besides, he +had had no sound reason to fear anything, that is +no definite reason. It was his work to feel and understand +the pulse of the men under him, and it +largely depended on the accuracy of his reading +whether or not the work under his charge ran +smoothly. He had felt for some time that something +was wrong, and Betty's story had confirmed +his feeling. He was some moments before he answered, +but when he did it was with calm decision. +</P> + +<P> +"Organized strike," he said at last. +</P> + +<P> +Tom Chepstow was startled. The words "organized +strike" had an unpleasant sound. He +suddenly realized the isolation of these hill camps, +the lawless nature of the lumber-jacks. He felt that +a strike up here in the mountains would be a very +different thing from a strike in the heart of civilization, +and that was bad enough. The fact that the +tone of Mason's pronouncement had suggested no +alarm made him curious to hear his views upon the +position. +</P> + +<P> +"The reason?" he demanded. +</P> + +<P> +The lumberman shrugged. +</P> + +<P> +"Haven't a notion." +</P> + +<P> +They tramped on in silence for some time, the +sound of their footsteps muffled in the fog. The +gray was deepening, and, with oncoming night, +their surroundings were rapidly becoming more +and more obscure. Presently the path opened out +into the wide clearing occupied by No. 1 camp. +Here shadowy lights were visible in the fog, but +beyond that nothing could be seen. Mason paused +and glanced carefully about him. +</P> + +<P> +"This fog is useful," he said, with a short laugh. +"As we don't want to advertise our presence we'll +take to the woods opposite, and work our way +round to the far side of the camp." +</P> + +<P> +"Why the far side?" +</P> + +<P> +"The store is that way. And—yes, I think the +store is our best plan. Jules Lieberstein is a time-serving +ruffian, and will doubtless lend himself to +any wildcat scheme of his customers. Besides, +this singsong of the boys sounds suggestive to +me." +</P> + +<P> +"I see." Chepstow was quick to grasp the +other's reasoning. The singsong had suggested +nothing to him before. +</P> + +<P> +Now they turned from the open and hastened +across to the wood-belt. As they entered its +gloomy aisles, the fog merged into a pitchy blackness +that demanded all the lumberman's woodcraft +to negotiate. The parson hung close to his heels, +and frequently had to assure himself of his immediate +presence by reaching out and touching +him. A quarter of an hour's tramp brought them +to a halt. +</P> + +<P> +"We must get out of this now," whispered +Mason. "We are about opposite the store. I've +no doubt that buckboard will be somewhere around. +I've a great fancy to see it." +</P> + +<P> +They moved on, this time with greater caution +than before. Leaving the forest they found the fog +had become denser. The glow of the camp lights +was no longer visible, just a blank gray wall +obscured everything. However, this was no deterrent +to Mason. He moved along with extreme +caution, stepping as lightly and quietly as possible. +He wished to avoid observation, and though the fog +helped him in this it equally afforded the possibility +of his inadvertently running into some one. Once +this nearly happened. His straining ears caught +the faint sound of footsteps approaching, and he +checked his companion only just in the nick of time +to let two heavy-footed lumber-jacks cross their +course directly in front of them. They were talking +quite unguardedly as they went, and seemed +absorbed in the subject of their conversation. +</P> + +<P> +"Y're a fool, a measly-headed fool, Tyke," one of +them was saying, with a heat that held the two men +listening. "Y'ain't got nuthin' to lose. We ain't +got no kick comin' from us; I'll allow that, sure. But +if by kickin' we ken drain a few more dollars out of +him I say kick, an' kick good an' hard. Them as is +fixin' this racket knows, they'll do the fancy work. +We'll jest set around an'—an' take the boodle as it +comes." +</P> + +<P> +The man laughed harshly. The shrewdness of +his argument pleased him mightily. +</P> + +<P> +"But what's it for, though?" asked the other, the +man addressed as "Tyke." "Is it a raise in wages?" +</P> + +<P> +"Say, ain't you smart?" retorted the first speaker. +"Sure, it's wages. A raise. What else does folks +strike for?" +</P> + +<P> +"But——" +</P> + +<P> +"Cut it. You ain't no sort o' savee. You ain't +got nuthin' but to set around——" +</P> + +<P> +The voice died away in the distance, and Mason +turned to his companion. +</P> + +<P> +"Not much doubt about that. The man objecting +is 'Tyke' Bacon, one of our oldest hands. A +thoroughly reliable axeman of the real sort. The +other fellow's voice I didn't recognize. I'd say he's +likely one of the scallywags I've picked up lately. +This trouble seems to have been brewing ever since +I was forced to pick up chance loafers who floated +into camp." +</P> + +<P> +Chepstow had no comment to make, yet the +matter was fraught with the keenest interest for +him. Mason's coolness did not deceive him, and, +even with his limited experience of the men of these +camps, the thing was more than significant. Caution +became more than ever necessary now as they +neared their destination, and in a few moments a +ruddy glow of light on the screen of fog told them +they had reached the sutler's store. They came to +a halt in rear of the building, and it was difficult to +estimate their exact position. However, the sound +of a powerful, clarion-like voice reached them +through the thickness of the log walls, and the +lumberman at once proceeded to grope his way +along in the hope of finding a window or some +opening through which it would be possible to distinguish +the words of the speaker. At last his +desire was fulfilled. A small break in the heavy +wall of lateral logs proved to be a cotton-covered +pivot-window. It was closed, but the light shone +through it, and the speaker's words were plainly +audible. Chepstow closed up behind him, and both +men craned forward listening. +</P> + +<P> +Some one was addressing what was apparently a +meeting of lumber-jacks. The words and voice were +not without refinement, and, obviously, were not +belonging to a lumberman. Moreover, it struck +the listeners that this man, whoever he be, was not +addressing a meeting for the first time. In fact +Mason had no difficulty in placing him in the calling +to which he actually belonged. He was discoursing +with all the delectable speciousness of a +regular strike organizer. He was one of those products +of trade unionism who are always ready to +create dissatisfaction where labour's contentment is +most nourishing to capital—that is, at a price. He +is not necessarily a part of trade unionism, but +exists because trade unionism has created a market +for his wares, and made him possible. +</P> + +<P> +Just now he was lending all his powers of eloquence +and argument to the threadbare quackery +of his kind; the iniquity of the possession of wealth +acquired by the sweat of a thousand moderately +honest brows. It was the old, old dish garnished +and hashed up afresh, whose poisonous odors he +was wafting into the nostrils of his ignorant audience. +</P> + +<P> +He was dealing with men as ignorant and hard +as the timber it was their life to cut, and he painted +the picture in all the crude, lurid colors most effective +to their dull senses. The blessings of liberal +employment, of ample wages, the kindly efforts +made to add to their happiness and improve their +lives were ignored, even rigorously shut out of his +argument, or so twisted as to appear definite sins +against the legions of labor. For such is the +method of those who live upon the hard-earned +wages of the unthinking worker. +</P> + +<P> +For some minutes the two men listened to the +burden of the man's unctuous periods, but at last +an exclamation of disgust broke from the lumberman. +</P> + +<P> +"Makes you sick!" he whispered in his companion's +ear. "And they'll believe it all. Here!" +He drew a penknife from his pocket and passed the +blade gently through the cotton of the window. +The aperture was small, he dared not make it bigger +for fear of detection, but, by pressing one eye close +up against it, it was sufficient for him to obtain a +full view of the room. +</P> + +<P> +The place was packed with lumber-jacks, all with +their keenest attention upon the speaker, who was +addressing them from the reading-desk Tom Chepstow +had set up for the purposes of his Sunday +evening service. The desecration drew a smothered +curse from the lumberman. He was not a religious +man, but that an agitator such as this should stand +at the parson's desk was too much for him. He +scrutinized the fellow closely, nor did he recognize +him. He was a stranger to the camp, and his +round fat face set his blood surging. Besides this +man there were three others sitting behind him on +the table the parson had set there for the purposes +of administering Holy Communion, and the sight +maddened him still more. Two of these he recognized +as laborers he had recently taken on his +"time sheet," but the other was a stranger to him. +</P> + +<P> +At last he drew back and made way for his companion. +</P> + +<P> +"Get a good look, parson," he said. Then he +added with an angry laugh, "I've thought most +of what you'll feel like saying. I'd—I'd like to +riddle the hide of that son-of-a-dog's-wife. We did +well to get around. We're in for a heap bad time, +I guess." +</P> + +<P> +Chepstow took his place. Mason heard him +mutter something under his breath, and knew at +once that the use of his reading-desk and Communion +table had struck home. +</P> + +<P> +But the sacrilege was promptly swept from the +parson's mind. The speaker was forgotten, the +matter of the coming strike, even, was almost forgotten. +He had recognized the third man on the +table, the man who was a stranger to Mason, and +he swung round on the lumberman. +</P> + +<P> +"What's Jim Truscott doing there?" he demanded +in a sharp whisper. +</P> + +<P> +"Who? Jim Truscott?" +</P> + +<P> +For a second a puzzled expression set Mason +frowning. Then his face cleared. "Say, isn't that +the fellow who ran that mill—he's a friend of—Dave's?" +</P> + +<P> +But the other had turned back to the window. +And, at that moment, Mason's attention was also +caught by the sudden turn the agitator's talk had +taken. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, my friends," he was saying, "this is the +point I would impress on you. Hitherto we have +cut off all communication of a damaging nature to +ourselves with the tyrant at Malkern, but the time +has come when even more stringent measures must +be taken. We wish to conduct our negotiations +with the mill-owner himself, direct. We must put +before him our proposals. We want no go-betweens. +As things stand we cannot reach him, +and the reason is the authority of his representative +up here. Such obstacles as he can put in our way +will be damaging to our cause, and we will not +tolerate them. He must be promptly set aside, +and, by an absolute stoppage of work, we can force +the man from Malkern to come here so that we +can talk to him, and insist upon our demands. +We must talk to him as from worker to fellow +worker. He must be forced to listen to reason. +Experience has long since taught me that such is +the only way to deal with affairs of this sort. +Now, what we propose," and the man turned with a +bow to the three men behind him, thus including +them with himself, "is that without violence we +take possession of these camps and strike all work, +and, securing the person of Mr. Mason, and any +others likely to interfere with us, we hold them safe +until all our plans are fully put through. During +the period necessary for the cessation of work, each +man will draw an allowance equal to two-thirds of +his wages, and he will receive a guarantee of employment +when the strike is ended. The sutler, +Mr. Lieberstein here, will be the treasurer of the +strike funds, and pay each man his daily wage. +There is but one thing more I have to say. We +intend to take the necessary precautions against +interference to-night. The cessation of work will +date from this hour. And in the meantime we will +put to the vote——" +</P> + +<P> +Chepstow, his keen eyes blazing, turned and +faced the lumberman. +</P> + +<P> +"The scoundrels!" he said, with more force +than discretion. "Did you hear? It means——" +</P> + +<P> +The lumberman chuckled, but held up a warning +hand. +</P> + +<P> +"They're going to take me prisoner," he said. +Then he added grimly, "There's going to be a +warm time to-night." +</P> + +<P> +But the churchman was not listening. Again +his thought had reverted to the presence of Jim +Truscott at that meeting. +</P> + +<P> +"What on earth is young Truscott doing in +there?" he asked. "He went away east the night +I set out for these hills. What's he got to do with +that—that rascally agitator? Why—he must be +one of the—leaders of this thing. It's—it's most +puzzling!" +</P> + +<P> +Chepstow's puzzlement did not communicate +itself to Mason. The camp "boss" was less interested +in the identity of these people than in the +strike itself. It was his work to see that so much +lumber was sent down the river every day. That +was his responsibility. Dave looked to him. And +he was face to face with a situation which threatened +the complete annihilation of all his employer's +schemes. A strike effectually carried out might be +prolonged indefinitely, and then— +</P> + +<P> +"Look here, parson," he said coolly, "I want +you to stay right here for a minute or so. They +aren't likely to be finished for a while inside there. +I want to 'prospect.' I want to find that buckboard. +That damned agitator—'scuse the language—must +have come up in it, so I guess it's near +handy. The fog's good and thick, so there's not a +heap of chance of anybody locating us, still——" +he paused and glanced into the churchman's alert +eyes. "Have a look to your gun," he went on +with a quiet smile, "and—well, you are a parson, +but if anybody comes along and attempts to molest +you I'd use it if I were in your place." +</P> + +<P> +Chepstow made no reply, but there was something +in his look that satisfied the other. +</P> + +<P> +Mason hurried away and the parson, left alone, +leant against the wall, prepared to wait for his return. +In spite of the plot he had listened to, the +presence of Jim Truscott in that room occupied +most of his thoughts. It was most perplexing. +He tried every channel of supposition and argument, +but none gave him any satisfactory explanation. +One thing alone impressed its importance on his +mind. That was the necessity of conveying a +warning to Dave. But he remembered they—these +conspirators—had cut communications. Mason +and probably he were to be made prisoners. +</P> + +<P> +His ire roused. He blazed into a sudden fury. +These rascals were to make them prisoners. Almost +unconsciously he drew his gun from his +pocket and turned to the window. As he did so +the sound of approaching footsteps set him alert +and defensive. He swung his back to the wall +again, and, gun in hand, stood ready. The next +moment he hurriedly returned the weapon to his +pocket, but not before Mason had seen the attitude +and the fighting expression of his face, and it set +him smiling. +</P> + +<P> +"I've found the buckboard," he said in a whisper. +Then he paused and looked straight into the +churchman's eyes. "We're up against it," he +went on. "Maybe you as well as myself. You +can't tell where these fellows'll draw the line. +And there's Miss Betty to think of, too. Are you +ready to buck? Are you game? You're a parson, +I know, and these things——" +</P> + +<P> +"Get to it, boy," Chepstow interrupted him +sharply. "I am of necessity a man of peace, but +there are things that become a man's duty. And +it seems to me to hit hard will better serve God and +man just now than to preach peace. What's your +plan?" +</P> + +<P> +Mason smiled. He knew he had read the parson +aright. He knew he had in him a staunch and +loyal support. He liked, too, the phrase by which +he excused his weakness for combat. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I mean to do this sponge-faced crawler +down, or break my neck in the attempt. I don't +intend to be made a prisoner by any damned +strikers. This thing means ruin to Dave, and it's +up to me to help him out. I'm going to get word +through to him. I understand now how our letters +have been intercepted, and no doubt his have been +stopped too. I'm going to have a flutter in this +game. It's a big one, and makes me feel good. +What say? Are you game?" +</P> + +<P> +"For anything!" exclaimed the parson with eyes +sparkling. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, there's not a heap of time to waste in +talk. I'll just get you to slip back to the dugout. +Gather some food and truck into a sack, and a +couple of guns or so, and some ammunition. Then +get Miss Betty and slip out. Hike on down the +trail a hundred yards or so and wait for me. Can +you make it?" +</P> + +<P> +Chepstow nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"And you?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to get possession of that buckboard, +and—come right along. The scheme's rotten, I +know. But it's the best I can think of at the moment. +It's our only chance of warning Dave. +There's not a second to spare now, so cut along. +You've got to prepare for a two days' journey." +</P> + +<P> +"Anything else?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing. Miss Betty's good grit—in +case——?" +</P> + +<P> +Chepstow nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"Game all through. How long can you give +me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe a half hour." +</P> + +<P> +"Good. I can make it in that." +</P> + +<P> +"Right. S'long." +</P> + +<P> +"S'long." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap21"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +AN ADVENTURE IN THE FOG +</H4> + +<P> +Tom Chepstow set out for the dugout. Churchman +as he was his blood was stirred to fighting +heat, his lean, hard muscles were tingling with a +nervous desire for action. Nor did he attempt to +check his feelings, or compose them into a condition +compatible with his holy calling. Possibly, +when the time had passed for action, and the mantle +of peace and good-will toward all men had once +more fallen upon him, he would bitterly regret his +outbreak, but, for the moment, he was a man, human, +passionate, unreasoning, thrilling with the joy +of life, and the delight of a moral truancy from all +his accepted principles. No schoolboy could have +broken the bonds of discipline with a greater joy, +and his own subconscious knowledge of wrong-doing +was no mar to his pleasure. +</P> + +<P> +The fog was thick, but it did not cause him great +inconvenience. He took to the woods for his +course, and, keeping close to the edge which encircled +the camp clearing, he had little difficulty in +striking the path to the dugout. This achieved he +had but to follow it carefully. The one possibility +that caused him any anxiety was lest he should +overshoot the hut in the fog. +</P> + +<P> +But he need have had no fear of this. Dense as +the fog was, the lights of the dugout were plainly +visible when he came to it. Betty, with careful +forethought, had set the oil lamps in the two windows. +She quite understood the difficulties of that +forest land, and she had no desire for the men-folk +to spend the night roaming the wilderness. +</P> + +<P> +The parson found her calmly alert. She did not +fly at him with a rush of questions. She was far +more composed than he, yet there was a sparkling +brilliancy in her brown eyes which told of feelings +strongly controlled; her eyelids were well parted, +and there was a shade of quickening in the dilation +of her nostrils as she breathed. She looked up into +his face as he turned after closing the door, and his +tongue answered the mute challenge. +</P> + +<P> +"There's to be a great game to-night," he said, +rubbing the palms of his hands together. The +tone, the action, both served to point the state of +his mind. +</P> + +<P> +Knowing him as she did Betty needed no words +to tell her that the "game" was to be no sort of +play. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a 'strike,'" he went on. "A strike, and +a bad one. They intend to make a prisoner of +Mason, and, maybe, of us. We've got to outwit +them. Now, help me get some things together, +and I'll tell you while we get ready. We've got to +quit to-night." +</P> + +<P> +He picked up a gunny sack while he was speaking +and gave it to Betty to hold open. Then he +immediately began to deplete the lumberman's +larder of any eatables that could be easily +carried. +</P> + +<P> +Ever since the men had left her this strike had +been in Betty's mind, so his announcement in no +way startled her. +</P> + +<P> +"What of Dave?" she asked composedly. +"Has he any—idea of it?" +</P> + +<P> +"That's just it. We've got to let him know. +He's quite in the dark. Communications cut. +Mason must get away at once to let him know. +He intends to 'jump' their buckboard and team—I +mean these strikers' buckboard." He laughed. +He felt ready to laugh at most things. It was not +that he did not care. His desire was inspired by +the thought that he was to play a part in the +"game." +</P> + +<P> +"The one that came in to-night?" Betty asked, +taking up a fresh sack to receive some pots and +blankets. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"And we are to bolt with him?" she went on in +a peculiar manner. +</P> + +<P> +Her uncle paused in the act of putting firearms +and ammunition into the sack. Her tone checked +his enthusiasm. Then he laughed. +</P> + +<P> +"We're not 'bolting' Betty, we're escaping so +that Dave may get the news. His fortune depends +on our success. Remember our communications +are cut." +</P> + +<P> +But his arguments fell upon deaf ears. Betty +smiled and shook her brown head. +</P> + +<P> +"We're bolting, uncle. Listen. There's no +need for us to go. In fact, we can't go. Think +for a moment. Things depend on the speed with +which Dave learns of the trouble. We should +make two more in the buckboard of which the +horses are already tired. Mason, by himself, will +travel light. Besides, a girl is a deterrent when it +comes to—fighting. No, wait." She held up a +warning finger as he was about to interrupt. +"Then there are the sick here. We cannot leave +them. They—are our duty. Besides, Dave's interests +would be ill served if we left the fever to +continue its ravages unchecked." +</P> + +<P> +In her last remark Betty displayed her woman's +practical instinct. Perhaps she was not fully aware +of her real motive. Perhaps she conscientiously +believed that it was their duty that claimed her. +Nevertheless her thought was for the man she +loved, and it guided her every word and action; it +inspired her. The threat of imprisonment up here +did not frighten her, did not even enter into her +considerations at all. Dave—her every nerve +vibrated with desire to help him, to save him. +</P> + +<P> +Chepstow suddenly reached out and laid a hand +on her shoulder. His enthusiasm had passed, and, +for the moment, the churchman in him was uppermost +again. +</P> + +<P> +"You're right, Betty," he said with decision. +"We stay here." +</P> + +<P> +The girl's eyes thanked him, but her words were +full of practical thought. +</P> + +<P> +"Will Mason come here? Because, if so, we'll +get these things outside ready." +</P> + +<P> +"No. We've got to carry them down the trail +and meet him there. There may be a rush. There +may be a scuffle. We don't know. I half think +you'd better stay here while I go and meet him." +</P> + +<P> +Betty shook her head. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to help," she exclaimed, with a flash +of battle in her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Then come on." Her uncle shouldered the +heavier of the two sacks, and was about to tuck the +other under his arm, but Betty took it from him, +and lifted it to her shoulder in a twinkling. +</P> + +<P> +"Halves," she cried, as she moved toward the +door. +</P> + +<P> +The man laughed light-heartedly and blew out +the lights. Then, as he reached the girl's side, a +distant report caused him to stop short. +</P> + +<P> +"What's that?" he demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"A pistol shot," cried Betty. "Come along!" +</P> + +<P> +They ran out of the hut and down the trail, and, +in a moment, were swallowed up in the fog. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Bob Mason intended to give Chepstow a fair +start. He knew, if he were to be successful, his +task would occupy far less time than the other's. +And a vital point in his scheme lay in meeting his +two friends at the appointed spot. +</P> + +<P> +He was fully alive to the rank audacity of his +plan. It was desperate, and the chances were +heavily against him. But he was not a man to +shrink from an undertaking on such a score. He +had to warn Dave, and this was the only means +that suggested itself. If he were not a genius of +invention, he was at least full of courage and determination. +</P> + +<P> +On his previous reconnoitre he had located the +buckboard at the tying-posts in front of the store. +Quite why it had been left there he could not understand, +unless the strike-leader intended leaving +camp that night. However, the point of interest +lay in the fact of the vehicle and horses being there +ready for his use if he could only safely possess +himself of them, so speculation as to the reason of +its being there was only of secondary interest. +</P> + +<P> +When he made his first move Tom Chepstow had +been gone some ten minutes. He groped his way +carefully along the wall until the front angle of the +building was reached, and here he paused to ascertain +the position of things. The meeting was still +in progress inside, and, as yet, there seemed to be +no sign of its breaking up. The steady hum of +voices that reached him told him this. +</P> + +<P> +About twenty yards directly in front of him was +the buckboard; while to the right, perhaps half +that distance away, was the open door of the store, +and adjacent to it a large glass window. Both were +lit up, and the glow from the oil lamps shone dully +on the fog bank. He was half inclined to reconnoitre +these latter to ascertain if any one were +about, but finally decided to go straight for his goal +and chance everything. With this intention he +moved straight out from the building and vanished +in the fog. +</P> + +<P> +He walked quickly. Fortune favored him until he +was within a few yards of the tying-post, when suddenly +the clanging of an iron-handled bucket being +set roughly upon the ground brought him to a dead +standstill. Some one was tending the horses—probably +watering them. Evidently they were +being got ready for a journey. Almost unconsciously +his hand went to the pocket in which he +carried his revolver. +</P> + +<P> +At that moment a roar of applause came from +the store, and he knew the meeting was drawing to +a close. Then came a prolonged cheering, followed +by the raucous singing of "He's a jolly good +fellow." It <i>was</i> the end. +</P> + +<P> +He could delay no longer. Taking his bearings +as well as the fog would permit, he struck out for +the tail end of the buckboard. He intended reaching +the "near-side" of the horses, where he felt +that the reins would be looped up upon the harness, +and as the best means of avoiding the man with the +bucket. +</P> + +<P> +In this he had little difficulty, and when he +reached the vehicle he bent low, and, passing clear +of the wheels, drew up toward the horses' heads. +By this time the man with the bucket was moving +away, and he breathed more freely. +</P> + +<P> +But his relief was short-lived. The men were already +pouring out of the store, and the fog-laden +air was filled with the muffled tones of many voices. +To add to his discomfiture he further became aware +of footsteps approaching. He could delay no +longer. He dared not wait to let them pass. +Then, they might be the owners of the buckboard. +His movements became charged with almost electrical +activity. +</P> + +<P> +He reached out and assured himself that the bits +were in the horses' mouths. Then he groped for +the reins; as he expected, they were looped in the +harness. Possessing himself of them, he reached +for the collar-chain securing the horses to the posts. +He pressed the swivel open, and, releasing it, +lowered the chain noiselessly. And a moment +later two men loomed up out of the fog on the "off-side." +They were talking, and he listened. +</P> + +<P> +"It's bad med'cine you leaving to-night," he +heard the voice of the strike-leader say in a grumbling +tone. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't help that," came the response. It was +a voice he did not recognize. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, we've got to secure this man Mason to-night. +You can't trust these fellows a heap. Give +'em time, and some one will blow the game. Then +he'll be off like a rabbit." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, it's up to you to get him," the strange +voice retorted sharply. "I'm paying you heavily. +You've undertaken the job. Besides, there's that +cursed parson and his niece up here. I daren't take +a chance of their seeing me. I oughtn't to have +come up here at all. If Lieberstein hadn't been +such a grasping pig of a Jew there would have been +no need for my coming. You've just got to put +everything through on your own, Walford. I'm +off." +</P> + +<P> +Mason waited for no more. The buckboard belonged +to the stranger, and he was about to use it. +He laughed inwardly, and his spirits rose. Everything +was ready. He dropped back to the full extent +of the reins as stealthily and as swiftly as possible. +This cleared him of the buckboard and hid +him from the view of the men. Then with a rein +in each hand he slapped them as sharply as he +could on the quarters of the cold and restless +horses. They jumped at the neck-yoke, and with +a "yank" he swung them clear of the tying-posts. +He shouted at them and slapped the reins again, +and the only too willing beasts plunged into a +gallop. +</P> + +<P> +He heard an exclamation from one of the men as +the buckboard shot past them, and the other made +a futile grab for the off-side rein. For himself he +seized the rail of the carryall with one hand and +gave a wild leap. He dropped into the vehicle +safely but with some force, and his legs were left +hanging over the back. +</P> + +<P> +But he had not cleared the danger yet. He was +in the act of drawing in his legs when they were +seized in an arm embrace, and the whole weight of +a man hung upon him in an effort to drag him off +the vehicle. There was no time to consider. He +felt himself sliding over the rail, which only checked +his progress for an instant. But that instant gave +him a winning chance. He drew his revolver, and +leveling it, aimed point-blank at where he thought +the man's shoulder must be. There was a loud report, +and the grip on his legs relaxed. The man +dropped to the ground, and he was left to scramble +to his feet and climb over into the driving-seat. +</P> + +<P> +A blind, wild drive was that race from the store. +He drove like a fury in the fog, trusting to the instinct +of the horses and the luck of the reckless to +guide him into the comparative safety of the eastward +trail. +</P> + +<P> +As the horses flew over the ground the cries of +the strikers filled the air. They seemed to come +from every direction, even ahead. The noise, the +rattle of the speeding wheels, fired his excitement. +The fog—the dense gray pall that hung over the +whole camp—was his salvation, and he shouted +back defiance. +</P> + +<P> +It was a useless and dangerous thing to do, and +he realized his folly at once. A great cry instantly +went up from the strikers. He was recognized, and +his name was shouted in execration. He only +laughed. There was joy in the feel of the reins, +in the pulling of the mettlesome horses. They +were running strong and well within themselves. +</P> + +<P> +It was only a matter of seconds from the time of +his start to the moment when he felt the vehicle +bump heavily over a series of ruts. He promptly +threw his weight on the near-side rein, and the +horses swung round. It was the trail he was looking +for. And as the horses settled down to it he +breathed more freely. It was only after this point +had been gained and passed that he realized the +extent of his previous risk. He knew that the +entrance to the trail on its far side was lined by +log shanties, and he had been driving straight for +them. +</P> + +<P> +In the midst of his freshly-acquired ease of +mind came a sudden and unpleasant recollection. +He remembered the path through the woods to the +dugout; it was shorter than the trail he was on by +nearly a mile. While he had over a mile and a +half to go, those in pursuit, if they took to the path, +had barely half. +</P> + +<P> +He listened. But he knew beforehand that his +fears were only too well founded. Yes, he could +hear them. The voices of the pursuers sounded +away to the left. They were abreast of him. +They had taken to the woods. He snatched the +whip from its socket and laid it heavily across the +horses' backs, and the animals stretched out into +a race. The buckboard jumped, it rattled and +shrieked. The pace was terrific. But he was ready +to take every chance now, so long as he could +gain sufficient time to take up those he knew to +be waiting for him ahead. +</P> + +<P> +In another few minutes he would know the +worst—or the best. Again and again he urged +his horses. But already they were straining at the +top of their speed. They galloped as though the +spirit of the race had entered their willing souls. +They could do no more than they were doing; it +was only cruelty to flog them. If their present +speed was insufficient then he could not hope to +outstrip the strikers. If he only could hear their +voices dropping behind. +</P> + +<P> +The minutes slipped by. The fog worried him. +He was watching for the dugout, and he feared lest +he should pass it unseen. Nor could he estimate +the distance he had come. Hark! the shouts of +the pursuers were drawing nearer, and—they were +still abreast of him! He must be close on the dugout. +He peered into the fog, and suddenly a dark +shadow at the trail-side loomed up. There was +no mistaking it. It was the hut; and it was in +darkness. His friends must be on ahead. How +far! that was the question. On that depended +everything. +</P> + +<P> +What was that? The hammering of heavy feet +on the hard trail sounded directly behind him. He +had gained nothing. Then he thought of that halt +that yet remained in front of him, and something like +panic seized him. He slashed viciously at his horses. +</P> + +<P> +He felt like a man obsessed with the thought +of trailing bloodhounds. He must keep on, on. +There must be no pause, no rest, or the ravening +pack would fall on him and rend him. Yet he +knew that halt must come. He was gaining +rapidly enough now. Without that halt they could +never come up with him. But—his ears were +straining for Chepstow's summons. Every second +it was withheld was something gained. He possessed +a frantic hope that some guiding spirit +might have induced the churchman to take up a +position very much further on than he had suggested. +</P> + +<P> +"Hallo!" +</P> + +<P> +The call had come. Chepstow was at the edge +of the trail. Mason's hopes dropped to zero. He +abandoned himself to the inevitable, flung his +weight on the reins, and brought his horses to a +stand with a jolt. +</P> + +<P> +"Where's Miss Betty?" he demanded. But his +ears caught the sound of the men behind him, and +he hurried on without waiting for a reply. "Quick, +parson! The bags! fling 'em in, and jump for it! +They're close behind!" +</P> + +<P> +"Betty's gone back," cried Chepstow, flinging +the sacks into the carryall. "I'm going back too. +You go on alone. We've got the sick to see to. +Tell Dave we're all right. So long! Drive on! +Good luck! Eh?" +</P> + +<P> +A horrified cry from Mason had caused the final +ejaculation. +</P> + +<P> +He was pointing at the off-side horse standing +out at right angles to the pole. +</P> + +<P> +"For God's sake, fix that trace," he cried. +"Quick, man! It's unhooked! Gee! What +infern——" +</P> + +<P> +Chepstow sprang to secure the loosened trace. +He, too, could hear the pursuers close behind. He +fumbled the iron links in his anxiety, and it took +some moments to adjust. +</P> + +<P> +"Right," he cried at last, after what seemed an +interminable time. Mason whipped up his horses, +and they sprang to their traces. But as they did +so there was a sudden rush from behind, and a +figure leapt on to the carryall. The buckboard +rocked and the driver, in the act of shouting at his +horses, felt himself seized by the throat from behind. +</P> + +<P> +Fortunately the churchman saw it all. His +blood rushed to his brain. As the buckboard was +sweeping past him he caught the iron rail and +leapt. In an instant he was on his feet and had +closed with Mason's assailant. He, too, went for +the throat, with all the ferocity of a bulldog. The +mantle of the church was cast to the winds. He +was panting with the lust for fight, and he crushed +his fingers deep into the man's windpipe. They +dropped together on the sacks. +</P> + +<P> +Mason, released, dared not turn. He plied his +whip furiously. He had the legs of his pursuers +and he meant to add to his distance. He heard +the struggle going on behind him. He heard +the gasp of a choking man. And, listening, he +reveled in it as men of his stamp will revel in such +things. +</P> + +<P> +"Choke him, parson! Choke the swine!" he +hurled viciously over his shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +He got no answer. The struggle went on in +silence, and presently Mason began to fear for the +result. He slackened his horses down and glanced +back. Tom Chepstow's working features looked up +into his. +</P> + +<P> +"I've got him," he said: then of a sudden he +looked anxiously down at the man he was kneeling +on. "He's—he's unconscious. I hope—— +You'd better pull up." +</P> + +<P> +"I wish you'd choke the life out of him," cried +Mason furiously. +</P> + +<P> +"I did my best, I'm afraid," the parson replied +ruefully. "You'd better pull up." +</P> + +<P> +But the lumberman kept on. +</P> + +<P> +"Half a minute. Get these matches, and have a +look at him. I'll slow down." +</P> + +<P> +The churchman seized the matches, and, in his +anxiety at what he had done, struck several before +he got one burning long enough to see the unconscious +man's face. Finally he succeeded, and an +ejaculation of surprise broke from him. +</P> + +<P> +"Heavens! It's Jim Truscott!" he cried. +</P> + +<P> +He pressed his hand over the man's heart. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank God! he's alive," he added. +</P> + +<P> +Mason drew up sharply. A sudden change had +come over his whole manner. He sprang to the +ground. +</P> + +<P> +"Here, help me secure him," he said almost +fiercely. "I'll take him down to Dave." +</P> + +<P> +They lashed their prisoner by his hands and feet. +Then Mason seized the churchman excitedly by the +arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Get back, parson!" he cried. "Get back to +the dugout quick as hell'll let you! There's Miss +Betty!" +</P> + +<P> +"God! I'd forgotten! And there's those—strikers!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap22"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +TERROR IN THE MOUNTAINS +</H4> + +<P> +Fear drove Chepstow headlong for the dugout. +Mason's words, his tone and manner, had served to +excite him to a pitch closely bordering upon absolute +terror. What of Betty? Over and over again +he asked himself what might not happen to her, +left alone at the mercy of these savages? What if, +baulked of their prey, they turned to loot and +wreck his hut? It was more than possible. To +his fear-stricken imagination it was inevitable. His +gorge rose and he sickened at the thought, and he +raced through the fog to the girl's help. +</P> + +<P> +The self-torture he suffered in those weary minutes +was exquisite. He railed at his own criminal +folly in letting her leave his side. He reviled +Mason and his wild schemes. Dave and his interests +were banished from his mind. The well-being +of Malkern, of the mills, of anybody in the world +but the helpless girl, mattered not at all to him. It +was Betty—of Betty alone he thought. +</P> + +<P> +An innocent girl in the hands of such ruthless +brutes as these strikers—what could she do? It +was a maddening thought. He prayed to Heaven +as he went, that he might be in time, and his +prayers rang with a fervor such as they never +possessed in his vocation as a churchman. And +this mood alternated with another, which was its +direct antithesis. The vicious thoughts of a man +roused to battle ran through his brain in a fiery +torrent. His whole outlook upon life underwent a +change. All the kindly impulses of his heart, all +the teachings of his church, all his best Christian +beliefs, fell from him, and left him the naked, passionate +man. Churchman, good Christian he +undoubtedly was, but, before all things, he was a +man; and just now a man in fighting mood. +</P> + +<P> +It probably took him less than twenty minutes +to make the return journey, yet it seemed to him +hours—he certainly endured hours of mental anguish. +But at last it ended with almost ludicrous +abruptness. In the obscurity of the fog he was +brought to a halt by impact with the walls of the +dugout. +</P> + +<P> +He recovered himself and stood for a moment +listening. There was no sound of any one within, +nor was there any sign of the strikers. He moved +round to the door; a beam of light shone beneath +it. He breathed more freely. Then, to his dismay, +at his first touch, the door swung open. His fears +leapt again, he dreaded what that open door might +disclose. Then, in the midst of his fears, a cry of +relief and joy broke from him. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank God, you're safe!" he exclaimed, as he +rushed into the room. +</P> + +<P> +Betty looked up from the work in her lap. She +was seated beside the box-stove sewing. Her calmness +was in flat contrast to her uncle's excited state. +She smiled gently, and her soft eyes had in them a +questioning humor that had a steadying effect upon +the man. +</P> + +<P> +"Safe? Why, dear, of course I'm safe," she +said. "But—I was a little anxious about you. +You were so long getting back. Did Bob Mason +get safely away?" +</P> + +<P> +Chepstow laughed. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, oh yes. <i>He</i> got away safely." +</P> + +<P> +"He?" +</P> + +<P> +The work lay in Betty's lap, and her fingers had +become idle. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. But we captured one of the strikers." +</P> + +<P> +The parson suddenly turned to the door and +barred it securely. Then, as he went on, he crossed +to the windows, and began to barricade them. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, we had a busy time. They were hard on +his heels when he pulled up for me. We nailed the +foremost. He jumped on the buckboard and almost +strangled Mason. I jumped on it too, and—and +almost strangled him." +</P> + +<P> +He laughed harshly. His blood was still up. +Betty bent over her work and her expressive face +was hidden. +</P> + +<P> +"Who was he? I mean your prisoner. Did you +recognize him, or was he a new hand?" +</P> + +<P> +Chepstow's laugh abruptly died out. He had +suddenly remembered who his prisoner was; and +he tried to ignore the question. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes, we recognized him. But," he went on +hurriedly, "we must get some supper. I think we +are in for a busy time." +</P> + +<P> +But Betty was not so easily put off. Besides, her +curiosity was roused by her uncle's evident desire to +avoid the subject. +</P> + +<P> +"Who was he?" she demanded again. +</P> + +<P> +There was no escape, and the man knew it. +Betty could be very persistent. +</P> + +<P> +"Eh? Oh, I'm afraid it was Jim—Jim Truscott," +he said reluctantly. +</P> + +<P> +Betty rose from her chair without a word. She +stirred the fire in the cook-stove, and began to prepare +a supper of bacon and potatoes and tea, while +her uncle went on with his task of securing the windows. +It was the latter who finally broke the silence. +</P> + +<P> +"Has any one—has anybody been here?" he +asked awkwardly. +</P> + +<P> +Betty did not look up from her work. +</P> + +<P> +"Two men paid me a visit," she said easily. +"One asked for you. He seemed angry. I—I +told him you had gone over to the sick camp—that +you were coming back to supper. He laughed—fiercely. +He said if you didn't come back I'd find +myself up against it. Then he hurried off—and I +was glad." +</P> + +<P> +"And the other?" +</P> + +<P> +Chepstow's work was finished. He had crossed +over and was standing beside the cook-stove. His +question came with an undercurrent of fierceness +that Betty was unused to, but she smiled up into +his face. +</P> + +<P> +"The other? I think he had been drinking. +He was one of those two I met in the woods. He +asked me why I hadn't taken his warning. I told +him I was considering it. He leered at me and +said it was too late, and assured me I must take the +consequences. Then he—tried to kiss me. It was +rather funny." +</P> + +<P> +"Funny? Great Heavens! And you——" +</P> + +<P> +Betty's smile broadened as she pointed to a heavy +revolver lying in the chair she had just vacated. +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't have any trouble. I told him there +were five barrels in that, all loaded, and each +barrel said he'd better get out." +</P> + +<P> +"Did—did he go?" +</P> + +<P> +Chepstow could scarcely control his fury. But +Betty answered him in a quiet determined manner. +</P> + +<P> +"Not until I had emptied one of them," she said. +Then with a rueful smile she added, "But it went +very wide of its mark." +</P> + +<P> +Her uncle tried to laugh, but the result was little +better than a furious snort. +</P> + +<P> +"Why did you leave the door open?" he inquired +a moment later. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you were out. You might have returned +in—in a hurry and—— But sit down, uncle dear, +food's ready." +</P> + +<P> +The man sat down and Betty stood by to supply +him with all he needed. Then he noticed she had +only prepared food for one. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, child, what about you?" he demanded +kindly. +</P> + +<P> +"I've had some biscuits and tea, before you +came in. I'm not hungry. Now don't bother +about it, dear. Yes, I am quite well." She shook +her head and smiled at him as he attempted to interrupt +her, but the smile was a mere cloak to her +real feelings. She had eaten before he came in, as +she said. But if she hadn't she could have eaten +nothing now. Her mind was swept with a hot tide +of anxious thought. She had a thousand and one +questions unanswered, and she knew it would be useless +putting any one of them to her kindly, impetuous +uncle. He was to her the gentlest of guardians, +but quite impossible as a confidant for her woman's +fears, her woman's passionate desire to help the +man she loved. He was staunch and brave, and in +what might lay before them she could have no better +companion, no better champion, but where the +subtleties of her woman's feelings were concerned +there could be no confidence in him. +</P> + +<P> +She watched him eat in silence, and, presently, +when he looked up at her, her soft brown eyes were +lit by an almost maternal regard for him. He had +no understanding of that look, and Betty knew it, +otherwise it would not have been there. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't understand it all," he said. "Jim is a +worse—a worse rascal than I thought. I believe +he's not only in this strike, but one of the organizers. +Why? That's what I can't make out. Is +it mischief—wanton mischief? Is it jealousy of +Dave's success? It's a puzzle I can't solve anyhow. +After all his protestations to me the thing's inconceivable. +It's enough to destroy all one's belief in +human nature." +</P> + +<P> +"Or strengthen it." +</P> + +<P> +"Eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"It is only natural for people to err," Betty said +seriously. "And having erred it is human nature, +whatever our motives, however good our intentions, +to find that the mire into which we have fallen sucks +hard. It is more often than not the floundering to +save ourselves that drives us deeper into it. Poor +Jim. He needs our pity and help, just as we so +often need help." +</P> + +<P> +Her uncle stared into the grave young face. His +astonishment kept him silent for a moment. He +pushed impatiently away from the table. But it +was not until Betty had moved back to her chair at +the stove that he found words to express himself. +He was angry, quite angry with her. It was not +that he was really unchristian, but when he thought +of all that this strike meant, he felt that sympathy +for the man who was possibly the cause of it was +entirely out of place. +</P> + +<P> +"Truscott needs none of your pity, Betty," he +said sharply. "If pity be needed it is surely for +those whom one man's mischief will harm. Do you +know what this strike means, child? Before it +reaches the outside of these camps it will turn a +tide of vice loose upon the men themselves. They +will drink, gamble. They will quarrel and fight. +And when such men fight it more often than not +results in some terrible tragedy. Then, like some +malignant cuttlefish, this strike will grope its crushing +feelers out from here, its lair, seeking prey on +which to fix its sucking tentacles. They will reach +Malkern, and work will be paralyzed. That means +ruin to more than half the villagers who depend +upon their weekly wage. It goes further than that. +The mills will shut down. And if the mills shut, +good-bye to all trade in Malkern. It means ruin +for everybody. It means the wrecking of all +Dave's hopes—hopes which have for their object +the welfare of the people of our valley. It is a +piece of rascality that nothing can justify. Jim +Truscott does not need our pity. It is the penitentiary +he needs. Betty, I'm—I'm——" +</P> + +<P> +But Betty looked up with passionate, glowing +eyes from the work she had resumed. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think I don't know what it means, uncle?" +she demanded, with a depth of feeling that +silenced him instantly. "Do you think because I +pity poor Jim that I do not understand the enormity +of his wickedness in this matter? Have I +spent the best part of my life in our valley carrying +on the work that has fallen to my share—work that +has been my joy and happiness to do—without understanding +the cruelty which this strike means to +our people, those who are powerless to help themselves +against it? Do you think I don't understand +what it means to Dave? Oh, uncle, if you +but knew," she went on reproachfully. "I know it +means practically the end of all things for Dave if +his contract fails. I know that he is all out for the +result. That his resources are even now taxed to +their uttermost limit, and that only the smooth running +of the work can save him from a disaster that +will involve us all. If I had a man's strength there +is nothing I would not do to serve him. If my +two hands, if my brain could assist him in the +smallest degree, he would not need to ask for them. +They are his—his!" she cried, with a passion that +thrilled the listening man. "You are angry with +me because I feel sorry for an erring man. I <i>am</i> +sorry for him. Yet should evil come to our valley—to +Dave—through his work, no wildcat would +show him less mercy than I. Oh, why am I not a +man with two strong hands?" she cried despairingly. +"Why am I condemned to be a useless +burden to those I love? Oh, Dave, Dave," she +cried with a sudden self-abandonment, so passionate, +so overwhelming that it alarmed her uncle, +"why can't I help you? Why can't I stand beside +you and share in your battles with these two +hands?" She held out her arms, in a gesture of appeal. +Then they dropped to her side. In a moment +she turned almost fiercely upon her uncle, +swept on by a tide of feeling long pent up behind +the barrier of her woman's reserve, but now no +longer possible of restraint. "I love him! I love +him! I know! You are ashamed for me! I can +see it in your face! You think me unwomanly! +You think I have outraged the conventions which +hem our sex in! And what if I have? I don't +care! I care for nothing and no one but him! +He is the world to me—the whole, wide world. I +love him so I would give my life for him. Oh, uncle, +I love him, and I am powerless to help him." +</P> + +<P> +She sank into her chair, and buried her face in +her hands. Blame, displeasure, contempt, nothing +mattered. The woman was stirred, let loose; the +calm strength which was so great a part of her +character, had been swept aside by her passion, +which saw only the hopelessness with which this +strike confronted the man she loved. +</P> + +<P> +Chepstow watched her for some moments. He +was no longer alarmed. His heart ached for her, +and he wanted to comfort her. But it was not easy +for him. At last he moved close to her side, and +laid a hand upon her bowed head. The action was +full of a tender, even reverential sympathy. And +it was that, more than his words, which helped to +comfort the woman's stricken heart. +</P> + +<P> +"You're a good child, Betty," he said awkwardly. +"And—and I'm glad you love him. Dave will +win out. Don't you fear. It is the difficulties he +has had to face that have made him the man he is. +Remember Mason has got away, and—— What's +that?" +</P> + +<P> +Something crashed against the door and dropped +to the ground outside. Though the exclamation +had broken from the man he needed no answer. It +was a stone. A stone hurled with vicious force. +</P> + +<P> +Betty sat up. Her face had suddenly returned to +its usual calm. She looked up into her uncle's +eyes, and saw that the light of battle had been rekindled +there. Her own eyes brightened. She, +too, realized that battle was imminent. They were +two against hundreds. Her spirit warmed. Her +recent hopelessness passed and she sprang to her +feet. +</P> + +<P> +"The cowards!" she cried. +</P> + +<P> +The man only laughed. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap23"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE RED TIDE OF ANARCHY +</H4> + +<P> +Betty and her uncle spent the next few hours in +preparing for eventualities. They explored the +storeroom and armory, and in the latter they +found ample provision for a stout defense. There +were firearms in plenty, and such a supply of ammunition +as should be sufficient to withstand a +siege. The store of dynamite gave them some +anxiety. It was dangerous where it was, in case of +open warfare, but it would be still more dangerous +in the hands of the strikers. Eventually they concealed +it well under a pile of other stores in the +hopes, in case of accident, it might remain undiscovered. +</P> + +<P> +During their preparations several more stones +crashed against the walls and the door of the building. +They were hurled at longish intervals, and +seemed to be the work of one person. Then, +finally no more were thrown, and futile as the attack +had been, its cessation brought a certain relief +and ease of mind. To the man it suggested the +work of some drunken lumber-jack—perhaps the +man who had been so forcibly rebuffed by Betty +earlier in the evening. +</P> + +<P> +It was one o'clock when Chepstow took a final +look round his barricades. Betty was sitting at the +table with a fine array of firearms spread out before +her. She had just finished loading the last one +when her uncle came to her side. She looked up +at him with quiet amusement in her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"I was wondering," she said, with just a suspicion +of satire in her manner, "whether we are in a +state of siege, or—panic?" +</P> + +<P> +But her uncle's sense of humor was lacking at +the moment. He saw only the gravity of his responsibility. +</P> + +<P> +"You'd best get to bed," he said a little severely. +"I shall sit up. You must get all the rest you can. +We do not know what may be in store for us." +</P> + +<P> +Betty promptly fell in with his mood. +</P> + +<P> +"But the sick?" she said. "We must visit them +to-morrow. We cannot let them suffer." +</P> + +<P> +"No. We must wait and see what to-morrow +brings forth. In the meantime——" +</P> + +<P> +He broke off, listening. Betty too had suddenly +turned her eyes upon the barred door. There was +a long pause, during which the murmur of many +voices reached them, and the faint but distinct +sound of tramping feet. The man's eyes grew anxious, +his lean face was set and hard. It was easy +enough to read his thoughts. He was weighing +the possibilities of collision with these strikers, +and calculating the chances in his favor. Betty +seemed less disturbed. Her eyes were steady and +interested rather than alarmed. +</P> + +<P> +"There's a crowd of them," said her uncle in a +hushed voice. +</P> + +<P> +The girl listened for something which perhaps +her uncle had forgotten. Sober, she did not expect +much trouble from these people. If they had +been drinking it would be different. +</P> + +<P> +The voices grew louder. The shuffling, clumping +footsteps grew louder. They drew near. They +were within a few yards of the building. Finally +they stopped just outside the door. Instantly there +was a loud hammering upon it, and a harsh demand +for admittance. +</P> + +<P> +Neither stirred. +</P> + +<P> +"Open the door!" roared the voice, and the cry +was taken up by others until it grew into a perfect +babel of shouting and cursing. +</P> + +<P> +Betty moved to her uncle's side and laid a hand +upon his arm. She looked up into his face and +saw the storm-clouds of his anger gathering there. +</P> + +<P> +"We shall have to open it, uncle," she said. +"That's—that's Tim Canfield's voice." +</P> + +<P> +He looked down into her eager young face. He +saw no fear there. He feared, but not for himself: +it was of her he was thinking. He wanted to open +the door. He wanted to vent his anger in scathing +defiance, but he was thinking of the girl in his +charge. He was her sole protection. He knew, +only too well, what "strike" meant to these men. +It meant the turning of their savage passions loose +upon brains all too untutored to afford them a semblance +of control. Then there was the drink, and +drink meant— +</P> + +<P> +The clamor at the door was becoming terrific. +He stirred, and, walking swiftly across the room, +put his mouth to the jamb. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you want?" he shouted angrily. +"What right have you to come here disturbing us +at such an hour?" +</P> + +<P> +Instantly the noise dropped. Then he heard +Tim's voice repeating his words to the crowd, and +they were greeted with a laugh that had in it a +note of rebellion. +</P> + +<P> +The laugh died out as the spokesman turned +again to the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Open this gorl-durned door, or we'll bust it +in!" he shouted. And a chorus of "Break it in!" +was taken up by the crowd. +</P> + +<P> +The parson's anger leapt. His keen nerves +were on edge in a moment. Even Betty's gentle +eyes kindled. He turned to her, his eyes blazing. +</P> + +<P> +"Hand me a couple of guns!" he cried, in a +voice that reached the men outside. "Get hold of +a couple yourself! If there's to be trouble we'll +take a hand!" Then he turned to the door, and his +voice was thrilling with "fight." "I'll open the door +to no one till I know what you want!" he shouted +furiously. "Beat the door in! I warn you those +who step inside will get it good and plenty! Beat +away!" +</P> + +<P> +His words had instant effect. For several seconds +there was not a sound on the other side of the +door. Then some one muttered something, and instantly +the crowd took up a fierce cry, urging their +leaders on. +</P> + +<P> +But the men in front were not to be rushed into a +reckless assault, and a fierce altercation ensued. +Finally silence was restored, and Tim Canfield spoke +again, but there was a conciliatory note in his voice +this time. +</P> + +<P> +"You ken open it, passon," he said. "We're +talkin' fair. We ain't nuthin' up agin you. We're +astin' you to help us out some. Ef you open that +door, me an' Mike Duggan'll step in, an' no one +else. We'll tell you what's doin'. Ther' don't need +be no shootin' to this racket." +</P> + +<P> +The churchman considered. The position was +awkward. His anger was melting, but he knew +that, for the moment, he had the whip hand. However, +he also knew if he didn't open the door, ultimately +force would certainly be used. These were +not the men to be scared easily. But Betty was in +his thoughts, and finally it was Betty who decided +for him. +</P> + +<P> +"Open it," she whispered. "It's our best course. +I don't think they mean any harm—yet." +</P> + +<P> +The man reluctantly obeyed, but only after some +moments' hesitation. He withdrew the bars, and +as the girl moved away beyond the stove, and sat +down to her sewing, he stepped aside, covering the +doorway with his two revolvers. +</P> + +<P> +"Only two of you!" he cried, as the door +swung open. +</P> + +<P> +The two men came in and, turning quickly, +shut the rest of the crowd out and rebarred the door. +</P> + +<P> +Then they confronted the churchman's two guns. +There was something tremendously compelling in +Chepstow's attitude and the light of battle that +shone in his eyes. He meant business, and they +knew it. Their respect for him rose, and they +watched him warily until presently he lowered the +guns to his side. +</P> + +<P> +He eyed them severely. They were men he +knew, men who were real lumber-jacks, matured in +the long service of Dave's mills, men who should +have known better. They were powerfully built +and grizzled, with faces and eyes as hard as their +tremendous muscles. He knew the type well. It +was the type he had always admired, and a type, +once they were on the wrong path, he knew could +be very, very dangerous. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, boys," he demanded, in a more moderate +tone, yet holding them with the severity of his expression. +"What's all this bother about? What +do you mean by this intolerable—bulldozing?" +</P> + +<P> +The men suddenly discovered Betty at the far +side of the stove. Her attitude was one of preoccupation +in her sewing. It was pretense, but it +looked natural. They abruptly pulled off their +caps, and for the moment, seemed half abashed. +But it was only for the moment. The next, Canfield +turned on the churchman coldly. +</P> + +<P> +"You're actin' kind o' foolish, passon," he said. +"It ain't no use talkin' gun-play when ther' ain't no +need whatever. It's like to make things ridic'lous +awkward, an' set the boys sore. We come along +here peaceful to talk you fair——" +</P> + +<P> +"So you bring an army," broke in Chepstow, impatiently, +"after holding a meeting at the store, and +considering the advisability of making prisoners of +my niece and me." +</P> + +<P> +"Who said?" demanded Tim fiercely. +</P> + +<P> +"I did," retorted Chepstow militantly. +</P> + +<P> +The promptness of his retort silenced the lumberman. +He grinned, and leered round at his companion. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" The parson's voice was getting +sharper. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, it's like this, passon. Ther' ain't goin' to +be no prisoner-makin' if you'll act reas'nable. +Ther' ain't nuthin' up to you nor the leddy but +wot's good an' clean. You've see to our boys +who's sick, an' just done right by us—we can't say +the same fer others. We just want you to come +right along down to the camp. Ther's a feller bin +shot by that all-fired skunk Mason, an' I guess +he's jest busy bleedin' plumb to death. Will you +come?" +</P> + +<P> +"Who is it?" +</P> + +<P> +The shortness of Chepstow's tone was uncompromising. +</P> + +<P> +The lumber-jack stirred uneasily. He glanced +round at his companion. The churchman saw the +look and understood. +</P> + +<P> +"Come on, Mike Duggan, out with it. I'm not +going to be played with," he said. "Your mate +doesn't seem easy about it. I suppose it's one of +the ringleaders of your strike, and you want me to +patch him up so he can go on with his dirty work. +Well? I'm waiting." +</P> + +<P> +Duggan's eyes flashed. +</P> + +<P> +"Easy, passon," he said sharply. "The feller's +name is Walford. You ain't like to know him fer +sure. He's kind o' runnin' things fer us. He's hit +in the shoulder bad." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, it's that fellow who was speaking at your +meeting. So he's got his medicine. Good. Well, +you want me to fix him up?" +</P> + +<P> +The lumber-jacks nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"That's it," said Duggan cheerfully. +</P> + +<P> +Chepstow considered for a moment. Then he +glanced over at Betty. Their eyes met, and his had +a smile of encouragement in them. He turned +back at once to the waiting men. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll help you, but on one or two conditions. I +demand my own conditions absolutely. They're +easy, but I won't change them or moderate them +by a single detail." +</P> + +<P> +"Get to it, passon," said Canfield, as he paused. +"Make 'em easy, an' ther' won't be no kick +comin'." +</P> + +<P> +"You must bring the fellow here, and leave him +with us until he is sufficiently recovered. Any of +you can come and see him, if he's not too sick. +Then you must give me a guarantee that my niece +and I can visit the sick camp to tend the boys up +there without any sort of molestation. You understand? +You must guarantee this. You must +guarantee that we are in no way interfered with, +and if at any time we are out of this hut, no one +will enter it without our permission. We are here +for peace. We are here to help your sick comrades. +Your affairs with your employers have nothing +to do with us. Is it a deal?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why sure, passon," replied Duggan. And Tim +nodded his approval. +</P> + +<P> +"It's folks like you makes things easy fer us," +added the latter, with hearty good-will. "Guess +we'll shake on it." +</P> + +<P> +He held out his hand, and Chepstow promptly +gripped it. He also shook the other by the hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, boys," he said genially, "how about those +others outside? How will you guarantee them?" +</P> + +<P> +"We'll fix that quick. Say, Mike, just open that +door." Canfield turned again to Chepstow, while +Mike obeyed orders. "I'll give 'em a few words," +he went on, "an' we'll send right off for Walford. +He's mighty bad, passon. He's——" +</P> + +<P> +The door was open by this time, and the two +men hurried out. Chepstow secured it behind +them, and stood listening for what was to happen. +He heard Canfield haranguing the crowd, and his +words seemed to have the desired effect, for presently +the whole lot began to move off, and in two +minutes the last sound of voices and receding footsteps +had died out. Betty drew a sigh of relief. +</P> + +<P> +"Uncle," she said, smiling affectionately across at +him as he left the door and came toward the stove, +"you are a genius of diplomacy." +</P> + +<P> +The man laughed self-consciously. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, we have gained a point," he said doubtfully. +</P> + +<P> +Betty let her eyes fall upon her sewing again. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, we have gained a point. I wonder how +long that point will hold good, when—when the +drink begins to flow." +</P> + +<P> +"That's what I'm wondering." +</P> + +<P> +And their question was answered in less than +twenty-four hours. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Half an hour later the wounded strike-leader was +brought to the hut. He was in a semi-conscious +state, and a swift examination showed him to be in +a pretty bad way. The bullet had ploughed its +way through the shoulder, smashing both the collar-bone +and the shoulder-blade. Then, though no +vital spot had been touched, the loss of blood had +been terrific. He had been left lying at the store +ever since he was shot by Mason, with just a rough +bandage of his own shirt, which had been quite +powerless to stop the flow of blood. +</P> + +<P> +It took Chepstow nearly two hours to dress the +wound and set the bones, and by that time the +man's weakness had plunged him into absolute unconsciousness. +Still, this was due solely to loss of +blood, and with careful nursing there was no real +reason why he should not make a satisfactory recovery. +</P> + +<P> +The rest of the night was spent at the sick man's +bedside. Betty and her uncle shared the vigil in +reliefs, and, weary work as it was, they never +hesitated. A life was at stake, and though the +man was the cause of all the trouble, or instrumental +in it, they were yet ready to spare no effort +on his behalf. With the parson it was sheer love +of his duty toward all men that gave him inspiration. +With Betty there may have been a less +Christian spirit in her motives. All this man's +efforts had been directed against the man she +loved, and she hated him for it; but a life was at +stake, and a life, to her, was a very sacred thing. +</P> + +<P> +The next day was spent between care for the +sick at the fever camp and the wounded man in their +own quarters, and the guarantee of the strikers was +literally carried out. There were one or two visits +to their sick leader, but no interference or molestation +occurred. Then at sundown came the first +warning of storm. +</P> + +<P> +Betty was returning to the dugout. She was +tired and sick at heart with her labors. For both +it had been a strenuous day, but it had found her +strength out a good deal more than it had her +uncle's. Ahead of her she knew there yet lay a +long night of nursing the wounded man. +</P> + +<P> +It was a gorgeous evening. The fog had quite +passed away. A splendid sunset lit the glittering +peaks towering about her with a cloak of iridescent +fire. The snow caps shone with a ruddy glow, +while the ancient glaciers suggested molten streams +pouring from the heart of them to the darkling +wood-belts below. The girl paused and for a moment +the wonder of the scene lifted her out of her +weariness. But it was only momentary. The +whole picture was so transient. It changed and +varied with kaleidoscopic suddenness, and vanished +altogether in less than five minutes. Again the +mountains assumed the gray cold of their unlit +beauties. The sun had gone, and day merged +into night with almost staggering abruptness. She +turned with a sigh to resume her journey. +</P> + +<P> +It was then that her attention was drawn elsewhere. +In the direction of the lumber camp, in the +very heart of it, it seemed, a heavy smoke was rising +and drifting westward on the light evening +breeze. It was not the haze of smoke from campfires +just lit, but a cloud augmented by great belches +from below. And in the growing dusk she fancied +there was even a ruddy reflection lighting it. She +stared with wide-open, wondering eyes. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly a great shaft of flame shot up into its +midst, and, as it lit the scene, she heard the shouting +of men mingling with the crash of falling +timber. She stood spellbound, a strange terror +gripping her heart. It was fear of the unknown. +There was a fire—burning what? She turned and +ran for the dugout. +</P> + +<P> +Bursting into the hut, she poured out her tidings +to her uncle, who was preparing supper. The man +listening to her hasty words understood the terror +that beset her. Fire in those forest regions might +well strike terror into the heart. He held a great +check upon himself. +</P> + +<P> +"Sit down, child," he said gently, at the conclusion +of her story. "Sit down and have some food. +Afterward, while you see to Walford, I'll cut +through the woods and see what's doing." +</P> + +<P> +He accomplished his object. Betty calmed at +once, and obediently sat down to the food he set before +her. She even forced herself to eat, and presently +realized she was hungry. The churchman +said nothing until they had finished eating. Then +he lit his pipe. +</P> + +<P> +"It's drink, I expect," he said, as though he had +been striving to solve the matter during supper. +"Likely they're burning the camp. We know +what they are." +</P> + +<P> +Betty took a deep breath. +</P> + +<P> +"And if they're doing that here, what about the +outlying camps?" +</P> + +<P> +She knew that such an event would mean absolute +ruin to Dave, and again her terror rose. This +time it was for Dave, and the feeling sickened her. +</P> + +<P> +Her uncle put on his hat. He had no answer for +her. He understood what was in her mind. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't leave this place, Betty," he said calmly. +"Redress Walford's wound the way I showed you. +Keep this door barred, and don't let any one in. +I'll be back soon." +</P> + +<P> +He was gone. And the manner of his going +suggested anything but the calmness with which +he spoke. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Once outside, the terror he had refused to display +in Betty's presence lent wings to his feet. Night +had closed in by the time he took to the woods. +Now the air was full of the burning reek, and he +tried to calculate the possibilities. He snuffed at +the air to test the smell, fearful lest it should be the +forest that was burning. He could not tell. He +was too inexperienced in woodcraft to judge accurately. +In their sober senses these lumber-jacks +dreaded fire as much as a sailor dreads it at sea, +then there could be little doubt as to the cause of it +now. The inevitable had happened. Drink was +flowing, scorching out the none too acute senses of +these savages. Where would their orgy lead them? +Was there any limit that could hold them? He +thought not. If he were inexperienced in the +woodsman's craft, he knew these woodsmen, and he +shuddered at the pictures his thoughts painted. +</P> + +<P> +As he drew nearer the camp the smoke got into +his lungs. The fire must be a big one. A sudden +thought came to him, and with it his fears receded. +He wondered why it had not occurred to him before. +Of course. His eyes brightened almost to a +smile. If what he suspected had happened, perhaps +it was the hand of Providence working in +Dave's interest. Working in Dave's, and—— +Perhaps it was the cleansing fires of the Almighty +sent to wipe out the evil inspired by the erring +mind of man. +</P> + +<P> +He reached the fringe of woods which surrounded +the clearing of the camp, and in another +few seconds he stood in the open. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank God," he exclaimed. Then, in a moment, +the horror of a pitying Christian mind shone +in his eyes. His lips were tight shut, and his +hands clenched at his sides. Every muscle strung +tense with the force of his emotions. +</P> + +<P> +In the centre of the clearing the sutler's store was +a blazing pile. But it was literally in the centre, +with such a distance between it and the surrounding +woods as to reduce the danger of setting fire to +them to a minimum. It was this, and the fact that +it was the store where the spirits were kept, that +had inspired his heartfelt exclamation. But his +horror was for that which he saw besides. +</P> + +<P> +The running figures of the strikers about the fire +were the figures of men mad with drink. Their +shoutings, their laughter, their antics told him this. +But they were not so drunk but what they had +sacked the store before setting it ablaze. Ah, he +understood now, and he wondered what had happened +to the Jew trader. +</P> + +<P> +He drew nearer. He felt safe in doing so. +These demented savages were so fully occupied +that they were scarcely likely to observe him. +And if they did, he doubted if he were running +much personal risk. They had no particular animosity +for him. +</P> + +<P> +And as he came near, the sights he beheld sickened +him. There were several fights in progress. +Not individual battles, but drunken brawls in +groups; mauling, savaging masses of men whose +instinct, when roused, it is to hurt, hurt anyhow, and +if possible to kill. These men fought as beasts +fight, tearing each other with teeth and hands, +gouging, hacking, clawing. It was a merciless display +of brute savagery inspired by a bestial instinct, +stirred to fever pitch by the filthy spirit +served in a lumber camp. +</P> + +<P> +At another point, well away from the burning +building, the merchandise was piled, tossed together +in the reckless fashion only to be expected +in men so inspired. Around this were the more +sober, helping themselves greedily, snatching at +clothing, at blankets, at the tools of their craft. +Some were loaded with tin boxes of fancy biscuits +and canned meats, others had possessed themselves +of the cheap jewelry such as traders love to dazzle +the eyes of their simple customers with. Each took +as his stomach guided him, but with a gluttony for +things which can be had for nothing always to be +found in people of unbridled passions. It was a +sight little less revolting than the other, for it spoke +of another form of unchecked savagery. +</P> + +<P> +Not far from this, shown in strong relief by the +lurid fires, was gathered a shouting, turbulent crowd +round a pile of barrels and cases. Three barrels +were standing on end, apart from the rest, and their +heads had been removed, and round these struggled +a maddened crew with tin pannikins. They +were dipping the fiery spirit out of the casks, and +draining each draught as hurriedly as the scorching +stuff could pass down their throats, so as to secure +as much as possible before it was all gone. The +watching man shuddered. Truly a more terrible +display was inconceivable. The men were not +human in their orgy. They were wild beasts. +What, he asked himself, what would be the result +when the liquor had saturated the brains of every +one of them? It was too terrible to contemplate. +</P> + +<P> +The roar of the blazing building, the babel of +shouting, the darkly lurid light shining amidst the +shadows of surrounding woods, the starlit heavens +above, the stillness of mountain gloom and solitude; +these things created a picture so awful of +contemplation as to be unforgettable. Every detail +drove into the watching man's heart as though +graven there with chisel and hammer. It was a +hellish picture, lit with hellish light, and set in the +midst of gloom profound. The men might have +been demons silhouetted against the ruddy fire; +their doings, their antics, had in them so little that +was human. It was awful, and at last, in despair, +the man on the outskirts of the clearing turned and +fled. Anything rather than this degrading sight; +he could bear it no longer. He sickened, yet his +heart yearned for them. There was nothing he +could do to help them or check them. He could +only pray for their demented souls, and—see to the +safeguarding of Betty. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Betty heard her uncle's voice calling, and flung +down the bars of the door. She looked into his +ghastly face as he hurried in. She asked no question, +and watched him as with nervous hands he +closed and secured the door behind him. Her eyes +followed his movements as he crossed to the stove +and flung himself into a chair. She saw his head +droop forward, and his hands cover his eyes in +a gesture of despair. Still she waited, her breath +coming more quickly as the moments passed. +</P> + +<P> +She moved a step toward him, and slowly he +raised a drawn haggard face, and his horrified eyes +looked into hers. +</P> + +<P> +"You must not leave this hut on any pretense, +Betty," he said slowly. Then he raised his eyes to +the roof. "God have pity on them! They are +mad! Mad with drink, and ready for any debauchery. +I could kill the men," he went on, shaking +his two clenched fists in the air, "who have driven +them——" +</P> + +<P> +"Hush, uncle!" the girl broke in, laying a restraining +hand upon his upraised arms. "One of +them lies over there, and—and he is wounded. We +must do what we can to help." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap24"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT +</H4> + +<P> +It was sundown in the Red Sand Valley. The +hush of evening had settled upon Malkern, and its +calm was only broken by the droning machinery of +the mills. The sky was lit by that chilly, yellow +afterglow of sunset which, eastward, merges into +the gray and purple of twilight. Already the long-drawn +shadows had expanded into the dusk so +rapidly obscuring the remoter distance. Straight +and solemn rose spires of smoke from hidden chimneys, +lolling in the still air, as though loath to leave +the scented atmosphere of the valley below. It +was the moment of delicious calm when Nature is +preparing to seek repose. +</P> + +<P> +Two women were standing at the door of Dave's +house, and the patch of garden surrounding them, +so simple, so plain, was a perfect setting for their +elderly, plainly clad figures. Dave's mother, very +old, but full of quiet energy, was listening to the +gentle complaint of Mrs. Chepstow. She was listening, +but her gaze was fixed on the distant mills, +an attitude which had practically become her +settled habit. The mill, to her, was the end of the +earth; there was nothing beyond. +</P> + +<P> +"I am dreadfully worried," Mrs. Tom was saying, +the anxious wrinkles of her forehead lifting her +brows perplexedly. "It's more than six weeks +since I heard from Tom and Betty. It's not like +him, he's so regular with letters usually. It was +madness letting Betty go up there. I can't think +what we were doing. If anything has happened to +them I shall never forgive myself. I think I shall +go down and talk to Dave about it. He may +know something. He's sure to know if they are +well." +</P> + +<P> +The other slowly withdrew her gaze from the +mills. It was as though the effort required to do so +were a great one, and one she reluctantly undertook. +The pivot of her life was her boy. A pivot upon +which it revolved without flagging or interruption. +She had watched him grow to a magnificent manhood, +and with all a pure woman's love and wonderful +instinct she had watched and tended him as she +might some great oak tree raised from the frailest +sapling. Then, when his struggles came, she had +shared them with him with a supreme loyalty, helping +him with a quiet, strong sympathy which found +expression in little touches which probably even he +never realized. All his successes and disasters had +been hers; all his joys, all his sorrows. And now, +in her old age, she clung to this love with the pathetic +tenacity of one who realizes that the final +parting is not far distant. +</P> + +<P> +Her furrowed face lit with a wonderful smile. +</P> + +<P> +"I cannot say for sure," she said. "There are +times when Dave will not admit me to the thoughts +which disturb him. At such times I know that +things are not running smoothly. There are other +times when he talks quite freely of his hopes, his +fears. Then I know that all is well. When he +complains I know he is questioning his own judgment, +and distrusts himself. And when he laughs +at things I know that the trouble is a sore one, and +I prepare for disaster. All his moods have meaning +for me. Just now I am reading from his silence, +and it tells me that much is wrong, and I am wondering. +But I do not think it concerns Betty—and, +consequently, not your husband; if anything were +wrong with her I think I should know." She +smiled with all the wisdom of old age. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Tom's anxiety was slightly allayed, but her +curiosity was proportionately roused. +</P> + +<P> +"Why would you know—about Betty?" she +asked. +</P> + +<P> +The older woman's eyes were again turned in the +direction of the mill. +</P> + +<P> +"Why—why?" She smiled and turned to the +churchman's wife. "It would produce a fresh mood +in my boy, one I'm not familiar with." Then she +became suddenly grave. "I think I should dread +that mood more than any other. You see, deep +down in his heart there are passionate depths that +no one has yet stirred. Were they let loose I fear +to think how they might drive him. Dave's head +only rules just as far as his heart chooses." +</P> + +<P> +"But Betty?" demanded Mrs. Tom. "How is +she——" +</P> + +<P> +"Betty?" interrupted the other, humorously eyeing +the eager face. "The one great passion of +Dave's life is Betty. I know. And he thinks it is +hopeless. I am betraying no confidence. Dave +hugs his secret to himself, but he can't hide it from +me. I'm glad he loves her. You don't know how +glad. You see, I am in love with her myself, and—and +I am getting very old." +</P> + +<P> +"And—does Betty know?" +</P> + +<P> +Dave's mother shook her head and smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"Betty loves him, but neither understands the +other's feelings. But that is nothing. Love belongs +to Heaven, and Heaven will straighten this +out. Listen!" +</P> + +<P> +The old woman's eyes turned abruptly in the +direction of the mill. There was a curious, anxious +look in them, and a perplexed frown drew her +brows together. One hand was raised to hold the +other woman's attention. It was as though something +vital had shocked her, as though some sudden +spasm of physical pain had seized her. Her +face slowly grew gray. +</P> + +<P> +Three people passing along the trail in front of +the house had also stopped. Their eyes were also +turned in the direction of the mill. Further along +a child at play had suddenly paused in its game to +turn toward the mill. There were others, too, all +over the village who gave up their pursuits to listen. +</P> + +<P> +"The mills have stopped work!" cried Mrs. +Torn breathlessly. +</P> + +<P> +But Dave's mother had no response for her. She +had even forgotten the other's presence at her side. +The drone of the machinery was silent. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Dawson was interviewing his employer in the +latter's office. Both men looked desperately +worried. Dave's eyes were lit with a brooding +light. It was as though a cloud of storm had +settled upon his rugged features. Dawson had +desperation in every line of his hard face. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you sent up the river?" demanded Dave, +eyeing his head man as though he alone were +responsible for the trouble which was upon them. +</P> + +<P> +"I've sent, boss. We've had jams on the river +before, an' I guessed it was that. I didn't worrit +any for four-an'-twenty hours. It's different now. +Ther' ain't bin a log come down for nigh thirty-six +hours." +</P> + +<P> +"How many men did you send up?" +</P> + +<P> +"Six. Two teams, an' all the gear needed for +breakin' the jam." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. You're sure it is a jam?" +</P> + +<P> +"Ther' ain't nothin' else, boss. Leastways, I +can't see nothin' else." +</P> + +<P> +"No. And the boom? You've worked out the +'reserve'?" +</P> + +<P> +"Clean right out. Ther' ain't a log in it fit to +cut." +</P> + +<P> +Dave sat down at his desk. He idled clumsily +for some moments with the pen in his fingers. His +eyes were staring blankly out of the grimy window. +The din of the saws rose and fell, and the music for +once struck bitterly into his soul. It jarred his +nerves, and he stirred restlessly. What was this +new trouble that had come upon him? No logs! +No logs! Why? He could not understand. A +jam? Dawson said it must be a jam on the river. +He was a practical lumberman, and to him it was +the only explanation. He had sent up men to find +out and free it. But why should there be a jam? +The river was wide and swift, and the logs were +never sent down in such crowds as to make a thing +of that nature possible at this time of year. Later, +yes, when the water was low and the stream slack, +but now, after the recent rains, it was still a torrent. +No logs! The thought was always his nightmare, +and now—it was a reality. +</P> + +<P> +"It must be a jam, I s'pose," said Dave presently, +but his tone carried no conviction. +</P> + +<P> +"What else can it be, boss?" asked the foreman +anxiously. +</P> + +<P> +His employer's manner, his tone of uncertainty, +worried Dawson. He had never seen Dave like +this before. +</P> + +<P> +"That's so." +</P> + +<P> +Then a look of eager interest came into his eyes. +He pointed at the window. +</P> + +<P> +"Here's Odd," he said. "And he's in a hurry." +</P> + +<P> +Dawson threw open the door, and Simon Odd +lumbered hurriedly into the room. He seemed to +fill up the place with his vast proportions. His +face was anxious and doubtful. +</P> + +<P> +"I've had to shut down at the other mill, boss," +he explained abruptly. "Ther' ain't no logs. +Ther've been none for——" +</P> + +<P> +"Thirty-six hours," broke in Dave, with an impatient +nod. "I know." +</P> + +<P> +"You know, boss?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +The master of the mills turned again to the +window, and the two men watched him in silence. +What would he do? This man to whom they +looked in difficulty; this man who had never yet +failed in resource, in courage, to meet and overcome +every obstacle, every emergency that harassed +a lumberman's life. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly he turned to them again. In his eyes +there was a peculiar, angry light. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" he demanded, in a fierce way that was +utterly foreign to him. "Well?" he reiterated, +"what are you standing there for? Get you out, +both of you. Shut this mill down, too!" +</P> + +<P> +Simon Odd moved to the door, but Dawson remained +where he was. It almost seemed as if he +had not understood. The mill was to be shut down +for the first time within his knowledge. What did +it mean? In all his years of association with Dave +he had seen such wonders of lumbering done by +him that he looked upon him as almost infallible. +And now—now he was tacitly acknowledging defeat +without making a single effort. The realization, +the shock of it, held him still. He made no +move to obey the roughly-spoken command. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly Dave turned on him. His face was +flushed. +</P> + +<P> +"Get out!" he roared. "Shut down the mill!" +</P> + +<P> +It was the cry of a man driven to a momentary +frenzy. For the time despair—black, terrible despair—drove +the lumberman. He felt he wanted to +hit out and hurt some one. +</P> + +<P> +Dawson silently followed Odd to the door, and +in five minutes the saws were still. +</P> + +<P> +Dave sat on at his desk waiting. The moment +the shriek of the machinery ceased he sprang to his +feet and began pacing the floor in nervous, hurried +strides. What that cessation meant to him only +those may know who have suddenly seen their +life's ambitions, their hopes, crushed out at one +single blow. Let the saws continue their song, let +the droning machinery but keep its dead level of +tone, and failure in any other form, however disastrous, +could not hurt in such degree as the sudden +silencing of his lumberman's world. +</P> + +<P> +For some minutes he was like a madman. He +could not think, his nerves shivered from his feet to +the crown of his great ugly head. His hands were +clenched as he strode, until the nails of his fingers +cut the flesh of the palms into which they were +crushed. For some minutes he saw nothing but +the black ruin that rose like a wall before him and +shut out every thought from his mind. The cessation +of machinery was like a pall suddenly burying +his whole strength and manhood beneath its paralyzing +weight. +</P> + +<P> +But gradually the awful tension eased. It could +not hold and its victim remain sane. So narrow +was his focus during those first passionate moments +that he could not see beyond his own personal loss. +But with the passing minutes his view widened, +and into the picture grew those things which had +always been the inspiration of his ambitions. He +flung himself heavily into his chair, and his eyes +stared through the dirty window at the silent mill +beyond. And for an hour he sat thus, thinking, +thinking. His nervous tension had passed, his +mind became clear, and though the nature of his +thoughts lashed his heart, and a hundred times +drove him to the verge of that first passion of +despair again, there was an impersonal note in +them which allowed the use of his usually clear +reasoning, and so helped him to rise above himself +once more. +</P> + +<P> +His castles had been set a-tumbling, and he saw +in their fall the crushing of Malkern, the village +which was almost as a child to him. And with the +crushing of the village must come disaster to all his +friends. For one weak moment he felt that this +responsibility should not be his—it was not fair to +fix it on him. What had he done to deserve so +hard a treatment? He thought of Tom Chepstow, +loyal, kindly, always caring and thinking for those +who needed his help. He thought of the traders +of the village who hoped and prayed for his success, +that meant prosperity for themselves and +happiness for their wives and children. And these +things began to rekindle the fighting flame within +him; the flame which hitherto had always burned +so fiercely. He could not let them go under. +</P> + +<P> +Then with a rush a picture rose before his mind, +flooding it, shutting out all those others, every +thought of self or anybody else. It was Betty, +with her gentle face, her soft brown hair and tender +smiling eyes. Their steady courageous light shone +deep down into his heart, and seemed to smite him +for his weakness. His pulses began to throb, the +weakened tide of his blood was sent coursing +through his veins and mounted, mounted steadily +to his brain. God! He must not go under. Even +now the loyal child was up in the hills fighting his +battles for him with—— +</P> + +<P> +He broke off, and sprang to his feet. A terrible +fear had suddenly leapt at his heart and clutched +him. Betty was up there in the hills. He had not +heard from the hill camps for weeks. And now +the supply of logs had ceased. What had happened? +What was happening up there? +</P> + +<P> +The lethargy of despair lifted like a cloud. He +was alert, thrilling with all the virility of his manhood +set pulsing through his veins. Once more +he was the man Dawson had failed to recognize +when he ordered the mills to be closed down. +Once more he was the man whose personal force +had lifted him to his position as the master of +Malkern mills. He was the Dave whom all the +people of the village knew, ready to fight to the +last ounce of his power, to the last drop of his blood. +</P> + +<P> +"They shan't beat us!" he muttered, as he +strode out into the yard. Nor could he have said +of whom he was speaking, if anybody at all. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +It was nearly midnight. Again Dawson and +Simon Odd were in their employer's office. But +this time a very different note prevailed. Dawson's +hard face was full of keen interest. His eyes were +eager. He was listening to the great man he had +always known. Simon Odd, burly and unassuming, +was waiting his turn when his chief had +finished with his principal foreman. +</P> + +<P> +"I've thought this thing out, Dawson," Dave +said pleasantly, in a tone calculated to inspire the +other with confidence, and in a manner suggesting +that the affair of the logs had not seriously alarmed +him, "and evolved a fresh plan of action. No +doubt, as you say, the thing's simply a jam on the +river. If this is so, it will be freed in a short time, +and we can go ahead. On the other hand, there +may be some other reason for the trouble. I can't +think of any explanation myself, but that is neither +here nor there. Now I intend going up the river +to-night. Maybe I shall go on to the camps. I +shall be entirely guided by circumstances. Anyway +I shall likely be away some days. Whatever is +wrong, I intend to see it straight. In the meantime +you will stand ready to begin work the +moment the logs come down. And when they +come down I intend they shall come down at a +pace that shall make up for all the time we have +lost. That's all I have for you. I simply say, be +ready. Good-night." +</P> + +<P> +The man went out with a grin of satisfaction on +his weather-beaten face. This was the Dave he +knew, and he was glad. +</P> + +<P> +Simon Odd received his orders. He too must +be ready. He must have his men ready. His mill +must be asked to do more than ever before when +the time came, and on his results would depend a +comfortable bonus the size of which quite dazzled +the simple giant. +</P> + +<P> +With his departure Dave began his own preparations. +There was much to see to in leaving everything +straight for his foremen. Dawson was more +than willing. This new responsibility appealed to +him as no other confidence his employer could +have reposed in him. They spent some time together, +and finally Dave returned to his office. +</P> + +<P> +During the evening inquirers from the village +flooded the place. But no official information on +the subject of the cessation of work was forthcoming, +nor would Dave see any of them. They were +driven to be content with gleanings of news from +the mill hands, and these, with the simple lumberman's +understanding of such things, explained that +there was a jam on the river which might take a +day, or even two days, to free. In this way a panic +in the village was averted. +</P> + +<P> +Dave required provisions from home. But he +could not spare the time to return there for them. +He intended to set out on his journey at midnight. +Besides, he had no wish to alarm his old mother. +And somehow he was afraid she would drag the +whole truth of his fears out of him. So he sent a +note by one of the men setting out his requirements. +</P> + +<P> +His answer came promptly. The man returned +with the kit bag only, and word that his mother +was bringing the food down herself, and he smiled +at the futility of his attempt to put her off. +</P> + +<P> +Ten minutes later she entered his office with her +burden of provisions. Her face was calmly smiling. +There was no trace of anxiety in it. So carefully +was the latter suppressed that the effort it entailed +became apparent to the man. +</P> + +<P> +"You shouldn't have bothered, ma," he protested. +"I sent the man up specially to bring those things +down." +</P> + +<P> +His mother's eyes had a shrewd look in them. +</P> + +<P> +"I know," she said. "There's a ham and some +bacon, biscuit, and a fresh roast of beef here. Then +I've put in a good supply of groceries." +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks, dear," he said gently. "You always +take care of my inner man. But I wish you hadn't +bothered this way." +</P> + +<P> +"It's no sort of trouble," she said, raising her +eyes to his. Then she let them drop again. +"Food don't need a lumberman's rough handling." +</P> + +<P> +The smile on Dave's face was good to see. He +nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"I'd better tell you," he said. "You know, +we've—stopped?" +</P> + +<P> +His eyes lingered fondly on the aged figure. +This woman was very precious to him. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I know." There was the very slightest +flash of anxiety in the old eyes. Then it was gone. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going up the river to find things out." +</P> + +<P> +"That's what I understood. Betty is up there—too." +</P> + +<P> +The quiet assurance of his mother's remark +brought a fresh light into the man's eyes, and the +blood surged to his cheeks. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, ma. That's it—chiefly." +</P> + +<P> +"I thought so. And—I'm glad. You'll bring +her back with you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, ma." +</P> + +<P> +"Good-bye, boy." His simple assurance satisfied +her. Her faith in him was the faith of a +mother. +</P> + +<P> +The man bent down and kissed the withered, upturned +face. +</P> + +<P> +She went out, and Dave turned to the things she +had brought him. She had thought of everything. +And the food—he smiled. She was his mother, +and the food had the amplitude such as is characteristic +of a mother when providing for a beloved +son. +</P> + +<P> +He must visit the barn to see about his horses. +He went to the door. Opening it, he paused. +Standing there he became aware of the sound of +approaching wheels. The absence of any noise +from the mills had made the night intensely silent, +so that the rattle of wheels upon the hard sand +trail, though distant, sounded acutely on the night +air. He stood listening, with one great hand +grasping the door casing. Yes, they were wheels. +And now, too, he could hear the sharp pattering of +horses' hoofs. The sound was uneven, yet regular, +and he recognized the gait. They were approaching +at a gallop. Nearer they came, and of a sudden +he understood they were practically racing for +the mill. +</P> + +<P> +He left the doorway and moved out into the +yard. He thought it might be the team which +Dawson had sent out returning, and perhaps bringing +good news of the jam on the river. He walked +toward the yard gates and stood listening intently. +The night was dark, but clear and still, and as he +listened he fancied in the rattle of the vehicle he +recognized the peculiar creak of a buckboard. +</P> + +<P> +Nearer and nearer it came, louder and louder the +clatter of hoofs and the rattle of wheels. The gallop +seemed labored, like the clumsy gait of weary +horses, and the waiting man straining could plainly +hear a voice urging them on. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly he thought of the gates, and promptly +opened them. He hardly knew why he did so. It +must have been the effect of the pace at which the +horses were being driven. It must have been that +the speed inspired him with an idea of emergency. +Now he stood out in the road, and stooping, +glanced along it till the faint light of the horizon +revealed a dark object on the trail. He drew back +and slowly returned to the office. +</P> + +<P> +The man's voice urging his horses on required +no effort to hear now. It was hoarse with shouting, +and the slashing of his whip told the waiting +man of the pace at which he had traveled. The +vehicle entered the yard gates. The urging voice +became silent, the weary horses clattered up to the +office door and came to a standstill. +</P> + +<P> +From the doorway Dave surveyed the outfit. +He did not recognize it, but something about the +man climbing out of the vehicle was familiar. +</P> + +<P> +"That you, Mason?" he asked sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—and another. Will you bear a hand to +get him out?" +</P> + +<P> +Dave went to his assistance, wondering. Mason +was busy undoing some ropes. Dave's wonder increased. +As he came up he saw that the ropes +held a man captive in the carryall. +</P> + +<P> +"Who is it?" he inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"Jim Truscott—whoever he may be," responded +Mason with a laugh, as he freed the last rope. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! Well, come right in—and bring him +along too." +</P> + +<P> +But Mason remembered the animals that had +served him so well. +</P> + +<P> +"What about the 'plugs'?" He was holding +his captive, who stood silent at his side. +</P> + +<P> +"You go inside. I'll see to them." +</P> + +<P> +Dave watched Mason conduct his prisoner into +the office, then he sprang into the buckboard and +drove it across to the barn. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap25"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +MASON'S PRISONER +</H4> + +<P> +In a few minutes Dave returned from the barn. +He had chosen to attend to the horses himself, for +his own reasons preferring not to rouse the man +who looked after his horses. +</P> + +<P> +His thoughts were busy while he was thus occupied. +As yet he had no idea of what had actually +occurred in the camps, but Mason's presence at +such a time, the identity of his prisoner, the horses' +condition of exhaustion; these things warned him +of the gravity of the situation, and something of +the possibilities. By the time he reëntered the office +he was prepared for anything his "camp-boss" +might have to tell him. +</P> + +<P> +He noted the faces of the two men carefully. In +Mason he saw the weariness of a long nervous +strain. His broad face was drawn, his eyes were +sunken and deeply shadowed. From head to foot +he was powdered with the red dust of the trail. +Dave was accustomed to being well served, but he +felt that this man had been serving him to something +very near the limits of his endurance. Jim +Truscott's face afforded him the keenest interest. +It was healthier looking than he had seen it since +his first return to Malkern. The bloated puffiness, +the hall-mark of his persistent debauches, had almost +entirely gone. The health produced by open-air +and spare feeding showed in the tan of his skin. +His eyes were clear, and though he, too, looked +worn out, there was less of exhaustion about him +than his captor. On the other hand there was none +of Mason's fearless honesty in his expression. +There was a truculent defiance in his eyes, a furious +scowl in the drawn brows. There was a nervousness +in the loose, weak mouth. His wrists were +lashed securely together by a rope which had been +applied with scant mercy. Dave's eyes took all +these things in, and he pointed to the latter as he +addressed himself to his overseer. +</P> + +<P> +"Better loose that," he said, in that even voice +which gave away so little of his real feelings. +"Guess you're both pretty near done in," he went +on, as Mason unfastened the knots. "Got down +here in a hurry?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; got any whiskey?" +</P> + +<P> +Mason had finished removing the prisoner's +bonds when he spoke. +</P> + +<P> +"Brandy." +</P> + +<P> +"That'll do." +</P> + +<P> +The overseer laughed as men will laugh when +they are least inclined to. Dave poured out long +drinks and handed them to the two men. Mason +drank his down at a gulp, but Truscott pushed his +aside without a word. +</P> + +<P> +"There's a deal to tell," said the overseer, as he +set his glass down. +</P> + +<P> +"There's some hours to daylight," Dave replied. +"Go right ahead, and take your own time." +</P> + +<P> +The other let his tired eyes rest on his prisoner +for some moments and remained silent. He was +considering how best to tell his story. Suddenly +he looked up. +</P> + +<P> +"The camp's on 'strike,'" he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah!" And it was Dave's eyes that fell upon +Jim Truscott now. +</P> + +<P> +There was a world of significance in that ejaculation +and the expression that leapt to the lumberman's +eyes. It was a desperate blow the overseer +had dealt him; but it was a blow that did not crush. +It carried with it a complete explanation. And +that explanation was of something he understood +and had power to deal with. +</P> + +<P> +"And—this?" Dave nodded in Jim's direction. +</P> + +<P> +"Is one of the leaders." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah!" +</P> + +<P> +Again came Dave's meaning ejaculation. Then +he settled himself in his chair and prepared to listen. +</P> + +<P> +"Get going," he said; but he felt that he required +little more explanation. +</P> + +<P> +Mason began his story by inquiries about his own +letters to his employer, and learned that none of +them had been received during the last few weeks, +and he gave a similar reply to Dave's inquiries as +to the fate of his letters to the camp. Then he +went on to the particulars of the strike movement, +from the first appearance of unrest to the final moment +when it became an accomplished fact. He +told him how the chance "hands" he had been +forced to take on had been the disturbing element, +and these, he was now convinced, had for some +reason been inspired. He told of that visit on the +Sunday night to the sutler's store, he told of his +narrow escape, and of his shooting down one of the +men, and the fortunate capture, made with the +timely assistance of Tom Chepstow, of his prisoner. +Dave listened attentively, but his eyes were always +on Truscott, and at the finish of the long story his +commendation was less hearty than one might have +expected. +</P> + +<P> +"You've made good, Mason, an' I'm obliged," +he said, after a prolonged silence. "Say," he went +on, glancing at his watch, "there's just four and a +half hours to the time we start back for the camp. +Go over to Dawson's shack and get a shake-down. +Get what sleep you can. I'll call you in time. +Meanwhile I'll see to this fellow," he added, indicating +the prisoner. "We'll have a heap of time +for talk on the way to the camps." +</P> + +<P> +The overseer's eyes lit. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you going up to the camps?" he inquired +eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, surely. We'll have to straighten this out." +Then a sudden thought flashed through his mind. +"There's the parson and——!" +</P> + +<P> +Mason nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. They've got my shack. There's plenty +of arms and ammunition. I left parson to hurry +back to——" +</P> + +<P> +"He wasn't with her when you left?" +</P> + +<P> +There was a sudden, fierce light in Dave's eyes. +Mason shook his head, and something of the other's +apprehension was in his voice as he replied— +</P> + +<P> +"He was going back there." +</P> + +<P> +Dave's eyes were fiercely riveted upon Truscott's +face. +</P> + +<P> +"We'll start earlier. Get an hour's sleep." +</P> + +<P> +There was no misunderstanding his employer's +tone. In fact, for the first time since he had left the +camp Mason realized the full danger of those two +he had left behind him. But he knew he had done +the only possible thing in the circumstances, and +besides, his presence there would have added to +their danger. Still, as he left the office to seek the +brief rest for which he was longing, he was not +without a qualm of conscience which his honest +judgment told him he was not entitled to. +</P> + +<P> +Dave closed the door carefully behind him. Then +he came back to his chair, and for some moments +surveyed his prisoner in silence. Truscott stirred +uneasily under the cold regard. Then he looked +up, and all his bitter hatred for his one-time friend +shone in the defiant stare he gave him. +</P> + +<P> +"I've tried to understand, but I can't," Dave said +at last, as though his words were the result of long +speculation. "It is so far beyond me that—— +This is your doing, all your doing. It's nothing to +do with those—those 'scabs.' You, and you alone +have brought about this strike. First you pay a +man to wreck my mills—you even try to kill me. +Now you do this. You have thought it all out +with devilish cunning. There is nothing that could +ruin me so surely as this strike. You mean to +wreck me; nor do you care who goes down in the +crash. You have already slain one man in your +villainy. For that you stand branded a—murderer. +God alone knows what death and destruction this +strike in the hills may bring about. And all of it is +aimed at me. Why? In God's name, why?" +</P> + +<P> +Dave's manner was that of cold argument. He +displayed none of the passion that really stirred +him. He longed to take this man in his two great +hands, and crush the mean life out of him. But +nothing of such feeling was allowed to show itself. +He began to fill his pipe. He did not want to +smoke, but it gave his hands something to do, and +just then his hands demanded something to do. +</P> + +<P> +His words elicited no reply. Truscott's eyes were +upon the hands fumbling at the bowl of the pipe. +He was not really observing them. He was wrapped +in his own thoughts, and his eyes simply fixed +themselves on the only moving thing in the room. +Dave put his pipe in his mouth and refolded his +pouch. Presently he went on speaking, and his +tone became warmer, and his words more rapid. +</P> + +<P> +"There was a time when you were a man, a +decent, honest, happy man; a youngster with all the +world before you. At that time I did all in my +power to help you. You remember? You ran +that mill. It was a matter of hanging on and waiting +till fortune turned your way for success and +prosperity to come. Then one day you came to +me; you and she. It was decided that you should +go away—to seek your fortune elsewhere. We +shook hands. Do you remember? You left her +in my care. All this seems like yesterday. I +promised you then that always, in the name of +friendship, you could command me. Your trust I +carried out to the letter, and all I promised I was +ready to fulfil. Need I remind you of what has +happened since? Need I draw a picture of the +drunkard, gambler who returned to Malkern, of the +insults you have put upon her, everybody? Of her +patience and loyalty? Of the manner in which +you finally made it impossible for her to marry +you? It is not necessary. You know it all—if you +are a sane man, which I am beginning to doubt. +And now—now why are you doing all this? I +intend to know. I mean to drag it out of you +before you leave this room!" +</P> + +<P> +He had risen from his seat and stood before his +captive with one hand outstretched in his direction, +grasping his pipe by the bowl. His calmness had +gone, a passion of angry protest surged through his +veins. He was no longer the cool, clear-headed +master of the mills, but a man swept by a fury of +resentment at the injustice, the wanton, devilish, +mischievous injustice of one whom he had always +befriended. Friendship was gone and in its place +there burned the human desire for retaliation. +</P> + +<P> +Truscott's introspective stare changed to a wicked +laugh. It was forced, and had for its object the +intention of goading the other. Dave calmed +immediately. He understood that laugh in time, +and so it failed in its purpose and died out. In its +place the man's face darkened. It was he who fell +a victim to his own intention. All his hatred for +his one-time friend rose within him suddenly, and +swept him on its burning tide. +</P> + +<P> +"You stand there preaching! You!" he cried +with a ferocity so sudden that it became appalling. +"You dare to preach to me of honesty, of friendship, +of promises fulfilled? You? God, it makes +me boil to hear you! If ever there was a traitor to +friendship in this world it is you. I came back to +marry Betty. Why else should I come back? +And I find—what? She is changed. You have +seen to that. For a time she kept up the pretense +of our engagement. Then she seized upon the first +excuse to break it. Why? For you! Oh, your +trust was well fulfilled. You lost no time in my +absence. Who was it I found her with on my +return? You! Who was present to give her +courage and support when she refused to marry +me? You! Do you think I haven't seen the way +it has all been worked? You have secured her +uncle's and aunt's support. You! You have +taken her from me! You! And you preach +friendship and honesty to me. God, but you're a +liar and a thief!" +</P> + +<P> +For a moment the lumberman's fury leapt and in +another he would have crushed the man's life out +of him, but, in a flash, his whole mood changed. +The accusations were so absurd even from his own +point of view. Could it be? For a moment he +believed that the loss of Betty had unhinged Truscott's +mind. But the thought passed, and he grew +as calm now as a moment before he had been +furious, and an icy sternness chilled him through +and through. There was no longer a vestige of +pity in him for his accuser. He sat down and lit +his pipe, his heavy face set with the iron that had +entered his soul. +</P> + +<P> +"You have lied to yourself until you have come +to believe it," he said sternly. "You have lied because +it is your nature to lie, because you have +not an honest thought in your mind. I'll not +answer your accusations, because they are so hopelessly +absurd; but I'll tell you what I intend +to do." +</P> + +<P> +"You won't answer them because you cannot +deny them!" Truscott broke in furiously. "They +are true, and you know it. You have stolen her +from me. You! Oh, God, I hate you!" +</P> + +<P> +His voice rose to a strident shout and Dave +raised a warning hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Keep quiet!" he commanded coldly. "I have +listened to you, and now you shall listen to +me." +</P> + +<P> +The fire in the other's eyes still shone luridly, +but he became silent under the coldly compelling +manner, while, like a savage beast, he crouched in +his chair ready to break out into passionate protest +at the least chance. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know yet how far things have gone in +the way you wish them to go up there in the hills, +but you have found the way to accomplish your +end in ruining me. If the strike continues I tell +you frankly you will have done what you set out to +do. My resources are taxed now to the limit. +That will rejoice you." +</P> + +<P> +Truscott grinned savagely as he sprang in with +his retort. +</P> + +<P> +"The strike is thoroughly established, and there +are those up there who'll see it through. Yes, yes, +my friend, it is my doing; all my doing, and it +cannot fail me now. The money I took from you +for the mill I laid out well. I laid out more than +that—practically all I had in the world. Oh, I +spared nothing; I had no intention of failing. I +would give even my life to ruin you!" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't be too sure you may not yet have to pay +that price," Dave said grimly. +</P> + +<P> +"Willingly." +</P> + +<P> +Truscott's whole manner carried conviction. +Dave read in the sudden clipping of his teeth, the +deadly light of his eyes, the clenching of his hands +that he meant it. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll ruin you even if I die for it, but I'll see +you ruined first," cried Truscott. +</P> + +<P> +"You have miscalculated one thing, Truscott," +Dave said slowly. "You have forgotten that you +are in my power and a captive. However, we'll let +that go for the moment. I promise you you shall +never live to see me suffer in the way you hope. +You shall not even be aware of it. I care nothing +for the ruin you hope for, so far as I am personally +concerned, but I do care for other reasons. In +dragging me down you will drag Malkern down, +too. You will ruin many others. You will even +involve Betty in the crash, for she, like the rest of +us, is bound up in Malkern. And in this you will +hurt me—hurt me as in your wildest dreams you +never expected to do." Then he leant forward in +his seat, and a subtle, deliberate intensity, more +deadly for the very frigidity of his tone was in his +whole attitude. His hands were outstretched +toward his captive, his fingers were extended and +bent at the joints like talons ready to clutch and +rend their prey. "Now, I tell you this," he went +on, "as surely as harm comes to Betty up in that +camp, through any doings of yours, as surely as +ruin through your agency descends upon this valley, +as Almighty God is my Judge I will tear the +life out of you with my own two hands." +</P> + +<P> +For a moment Truscott's eyes supported the +frigid glare of Dave's. For a moment he had it in +his mind to fling defiance at him. Then his eyes +shifted and he looked away, and defiance died out +of his mind. The stronger nature shook the weaker, +and an involuntary shudder of apprehension slowly +crept over him. Dave stirred to the pitch of threatening +deliberate slaughter had been beyond his imagination. +Now that he saw it the sight was not pleasant. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly the lumberman sprang to his feet +</P> + +<P> +"We'll start right away," he said, in his usual +voice. +</P> + +<P> +"We?" The monosyllabic question sprang from +Truscott's lips in a sudden access of fear. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. We. Mason, you, and me." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap26"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +TO THE LUMBER CAMP +</H4> + +<P> +The gray morning mist rolled slowly up the hillsides +from the bosom of the warming valley below. +Great billows mounted, swelling in volume till, +overweighted, they toppled, surging like the breaking +rollers of a wind-swept ocean. Here and there +the rosy sunlight brushed the swirling sea with a +tenderness of color no painter's brush could ever +hope to produce. A precocious sunbeam shot +athwart the leaden prospect. It bored its way +through the churning fog searching the depths of +some benighted wood-lined hollow, as though to +rouse its slumbering world. +</P> + +<P> +Dense spruce and hemlock forests grew out of the +mists. The spires of gigantic pines rose, piercing the +gray as though gasping for the warming radiance +above. A perching eagle, newly roused from its +slumbers, shrieked its morning song till the rebounding +cries, echoing from a thousand directions, +suggested the reveille of the entire feathered +world. The mournful whistle of a solitary marmot +swelled the song from many new directions, and the +raucous chorus had for its accompaniment the thundering +chords of hidden waters, seething and boiling +in the mighty canons below. +</P> + +<P> +The long-drawn, sibilant hush of night was gone; +the leaden mountain dawn had passed; day, glorious +in its waking splendor, had routed the grim shadows +from the mystic depths of cañon, from the +leaden-hued forest-laden valleys. The sunlight was +upon the dazzling mountain-tops, groping, searching +the very heart of the Rocky Mountains. +</P> + +<P> +Dave's buckboard, no more conspicuous than +some wandering ant in the vast mountain world, +crawled from the depths of a wide valley and +slowly mounted the shoulders of a forest-clad ridge. +It vanished into the twilight of giant woods, only +to be seen again, some hours later, at a greater +altitude, climbing, climbing the great slopes, or +descending to gaping hollows, but always attaining +the higher lands. +</P> + +<P> +But his speed was by no means a crawl in +reality, only did it appear so by reason of the vastness +of the world about him. His horses were +traveling as fresh, mettlesome beasts can travel +when urged by such a man as Dave, with his +nerves strung to a terrific tension by the emergency +of his journey. The willing beasts raced down the +hills over the uneven trail with all the sure-footed +carelessness of the prairie-bred broncho. They +took the inclines with scarcely perceptible slackening +of their gait. And only the sharp hills served +them for breathing space. +</P> + +<P> +Dave occupied the driving-seat while Mason sat +guard over Jim Truscott in the carryall behind. +Those two days on the trail had been unusually +silent, even for men such as they were, and even +taking into consideration the object of their journey. +Truscott and Mason were almost "dead beat" with +all that had gone before, and Dave—he was wrapped +in his own thoughts. +</P> + +<P> +His thoughts carried him far away from his companions +into a world where love and strife were +curiously blended. Every thread of such thought +sent him blundering into mires of trouble, the +possibilities of which set his nerves jangling with +apprehension. But their contemplation only stiffened +his stern resolve to fight the coming battle +with a courage and resource such as never yet had +he brought to bear in his bid for success. He +knew that before him lay the culminating battle of +his long and ardent sieging of Fortune's stronghold. +He knew that now, at last, he was face to +face with the great test of his fitness. He knew +that this battle had always been bound to come +before the goal of his success was reached; +although, perhaps, its method and its cause may +have taken a thousand other forms. It is not in +the nature of things that a man may march untested +straight to the golden pastures of his +ambitions. He must fight every foot of his way, +and the final battle must ever be the sternest, the +crudest. God help the man if he has not the +fitness, for Fate and Fortune are remorseless foes. +</P> + +<P> +But besides his native courage, Dave was stirred +to even greater efforts by man's strongest motive, +be his cause for good or evil. Love was the main-spring +of his inspiration. He had desired success +with a passionate longing all his life, and his +success was not all selfishness. But now, before all +things, he saw the sweetly gentle face of Betty +Somers gazing with a heartful appeal, beckoning +him, calling him to help her. Every moment of +that long journey the vision remained with him; +every moment he felt might be the moment of dire +tragedy for her. He dared not trust himself to +consider the nature of that tragedy, or he must +have turned and rended the man who was its cause. +Only he blessed each moment that passed, bringing +him nearer to her side. He loved her as he loved +nothing and no one else on earth, and somehow +there had crept into his mind the thought of a +possibility he had never yet dared to consider. It +was a vague ray of hope that the impossibility of +his love was not so great as he had always believed. +</P> + +<P> +How it had stolen in upon him he hardly knew. +Perhaps it was his mother's persistent references to +Betty. Perhaps it was the result of his talk with +the man who had brought her to the straits she was +now placed in. Perhaps it was one of these things, +or both, coupled with the memory of trifling +incidents in the past, which had seemed to mean +nothing at the time of their happening. +</P> + +<P> +Whatever it was, his love for the girl swept +through him now in a way that drove him headlong +to her rescue. His own affairs of the mills, +the fate of his friends in Malkern, of the village +itself; all these things were driven into the background +of his thoughts. Betty needed him. The +thought set his brain whirling with a wild thrilling +happiness, mazed, every alternate moment, with a +horrible fear that drove him to the depths of +despair. +</P> + +<P> +It was high noon when smoke ahead warned +him that the journey was nearly over. The buckboard +was on the ridge shouldering a wide valley, +and below it was the rushing torrent of the Red +Sand River. From his position Dave had a full +view of the dull green forest world rolling away, +east and west, in vast, undulating waves as far as +the eye could reach. Only to the south, beyond +the valley, was there a break in the dense, verdant +carpet. And here it was he beheld the telltale +smoke of the lumber camp. +</P> + +<P> +"That's the camp," he said, looking straight +ahead, watching the slowly rising haze with longing +eyes. "Guess we haven't to cross the river. +Good." +</P> + +<P> +Mason was looking out over his shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"No," he said after a moment's pause, while he +tried to read the signs he beheld. "We don't cross +the river. Keep to the trail. It takes us right past +my shack." +</P> + +<P> +"Where Parson Tom and——?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, where they're living." +</P> + +<P> +In another quarter of a mile they would be +descending the hollow of a small valley diverging +from the valley of the Red Sand River. As they +drew near the decline, Dave spoke again. +</P> + +<P> +"Can you make anything out, Mason?" he +asked. "Seems to me that smoke is thick for—for +stovepipes. There's two lots; one of 'em nearer +this way." +</P> + +<P> +Mason stared out for some moments, shielding +his eyes from the dazzling sun. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't be sure," he said at last. "The nearest +smoke should be my shack." +</P> + +<P> +A grave anxiety crept into Dave's eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"It isn't thick there," he said, as though trying +to reassure himself. "That's your stovepipe?" +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe." +</P> + +<P> +Mason's reply expressed doubt. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly Dave leant over and his whip fell +sharply across the horses' backs. They sprang at +their neck-yoke and raced down into the final dip. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap27"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +AT BAY +</H4> + +<P> +In the dugout Tom Chepstow was standing with +his ear pressed against the door-jamb. He was +listening, straining with every nerve alert to glean +the least indication of what was going on outside. +His face was pale and drawn, and his eyes shone +with anxiety. He was gripped by a fear he had +never known before, a fear that might well come to +the bravest. Personal, physical danger he understood, +it was almost pleasant to him, something +that gave life a new interest. But this—this was +different, this was horrible. +</P> + +<P> +Betty was standing just behind him. She was +leaning forward craning intently. Her hands were +clenched at her sides, and a similar dread was looking +out of her soft eyes. Her face was pale with a +marble coldness, her rich red lips were compressed +to a fine line, her whole body was tense with the +fear that lay behind her straining eyes. There was +desperation in the poise of her body, the desperation +of a brave woman who sees the last hope vanishing, +swallowed up in a tide of disaster she is +powerless to stem. +</P> + +<P> +For nearly a week these two had been penned +up in the hut. But for the last thirty-six hours +their stronghold had actually been in a state of +siege. From the time of her uncle's realization of +the conditions obtaining outside Betty had not ventured +without the building, while the man himself +had been forced to use the utmost caution in moving +abroad. It had been absolutely necessary for +him to make several expeditions, otherwise he, too, +would have remained in their fortress. They required +water and fire-wood, and these things had to +be procured. Then, too, there were the sick. +</P> + +<P> +But on the third day the climax was reached. +Returning from one of his expeditions Chepstow +encountered a drunken gang of lumber-jacks. Under +the influence of their recent orgy their spirit-soaked +brains had conceived the pretty idea of +"ilin' the passon's works"; in other words, forcing +drink upon him, and making him as drunk as themselves. +In their present condition the joke appealed +to them, and it was not without a violent struggle +that their intended victim escaped. +</P> + +<P> +He was carrying fire-wood at the time, and it +served him well as a weapon of defense. In a +few brief moments he had left one man stunned +upon the ground and another with a horribly +broken face, and was himself racing for the dugout. +He easily outstripped his drunken pursuers, but he +was quickly to learn how high a price he must pay +for the temporary victory. He had brought a veritable +hornets' nest about his ears. +</P> + +<P> +The mischief began. The attack upon himself +had only been a drunken practical joke. The subsequent +happenings were in deadly earnest. The +mob came in a blaze of savage fury. Their +first thought was for vengeance upon him. In all +probability, up to that time, Betty's presence in the +hut had been forgotten, but now, as they came to +the dugout, they remembered. In their present +condition it was but a short step from a desire to +revenge themselves upon him, to the suggestion of +how it could be accomplished through the girl. +They remembered her pretty face, her delicious +woman's figure, and instantly they became ravening +brutes, fired with a mad desire to possess themselves +of her. +</P> + +<P> +They were no longer strikers, they were not +even men. The spirit taken from the burning store +had done its work. A howling pack of demons had +been turned loose upon the camp, ready for any +fiendish prank, ready for slaughter, ready for anything. +These untutored creatures knew no better, +they were powerless to help themselves, their passions +alone guided them at all times, and now all +that was most evil in them was frothing to the surface. +Sober, they were as tame as caged wolves +kept under by the bludgeon of a stern discipline. +Drunk, they were madmen, driven by the untamed +passions of the brute creation. They were +animals without the restraining instincts of the animal, +they lusted for the exercise of their great muscles, +and the vital forces which swept through their +veins in a passionate torrent. +</P> + +<P> +Their first effort was a demand for the surrender +of those in the hut, and they were coldly refused. +They attempted a parley, and received no encouragement. +Now they were determined upon capture, +with loudly shouted threats of dire consequences +for the defenders' obstinacy. +</P> + +<P> +It was close upon noon of the second day of the +siege. The hut was barricaded at every point. +Door and windows were blocked up with every +available piece of furniture that could be spared, +and the repeating-rifles were loaded ready, and both +uncle and niece were armed with revolvers. They +were defending more than life and liberty, and they +knew it. They were defending all that is most +sacred in a woman's life. It was a ghastly thought, +a desperate thought, but a thought that roused in +them both a conviction that any defense brain +could conceive was justified. If necessary not +even life itself should stand in the way of their defense. +</P> + +<P> +The yellow lamplight threw gloomy shadows +about the barricaded room. Its depressing light +added to the sinister aspect of their extremity. The +silence was ominous, it was fraught with a portend +of disaster; disaster worse than death. How could +they hope to withstand the attack of the men outside? +They were waiting, waiting for what was to +happen. Every conceivable method had been +adopted by the besiegers to dislodge their intended +victims. They had tried to tear the roof off, but +the heavy logs were well dovetailed, and the process +would have taken too long, and exposed those +attempting it to the fire of the rifles in the capable +hands of the defenders. Chepstow had illustrated +his determination promptly by a half dozen shots +fired at the first moving of one of the logs. Then +had come an assault on the door, but, here again, +the ready play of the rifle from one of the windows +had driven these besiegers hurriedly to cover. +Some man, more blinded with drink than the rest +of his comrades, had suggested fire. But his suggestion +was promptly vetoed. Had it been the +parson only they would probably have had no +scruples, but Betty was there, and they wanted +Betty. +</P> + +<P> +For some time there had been no further assault. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish I knew how many there were," Chepstow +said, in a low voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Would that do any good?" +</P> + +<P> +The man moved his shoulders in something like +a despairing shrug. +</P> + +<P> +"Would anything do any good?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing I can think of," Betty murmured +bitterly. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought if there were say only a dozen I +might open this door. We have the repeating-rifles." +</P> + +<P> +The man's eyes as he spoke glittered with a fierce +light. Betty saw it, and somehow it made her shiver. +</P> + +<P> +It brought home to her their extremity even +more poignantly than all that had gone before. +When a brave churchman's thoughts concentrated in +such a direction she felt that their hopes were small +indeed. +</P> + +<P> +She shook her head. +</P> + +<P> +"No, uncle dear. We must wait for that until +they force an entrance." She was cool enough in +her desperation, cooler far than he. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," he nodded reluctantly, "perhaps you're +right, but the suspense is—killing. Hark! Listen, +they are coming at us again. I wonder what it is +to be this time." +</P> + +<P> +The harsh voices of the drunken mob could be +plainly heard. They were coming nearer. Brutal +laughter assailed the straining ears inside, and set +their nerves tingling afresh. Then came a hush. +It lasted some seconds. Then a single laugh just +outside the door broke upon the silence. +</P> + +<P> +"Try again," a voice said. "Say, here's some +more. 'Struth you're a heap of G—— d—— foolishness." +</P> + +<P> +Another voice broke in angrily. +</P> + +<P> +"God strike you!" it snarled, "do it your b—— +self." +</P> + +<P> +"Right ho!" +</P> + +<P> +Then there came a shuffling of feet, and, a moment +later, a scraping and scratching at the foot of the +door. Chepstow glanced down at it, and Betty's +eyes were irresistibly drawn in the same direction. +</P> + +<P> +"What are they doing now?" +</P> + +<P> +It was the voice of the wounded strike-leader on +his bunk at the far end of the room. He was staring +over at the door, his expression one of even +greater fear than that of the defenders themselves. +He felt that, in spite of the part he had played in +bringing the strike about, his position was no better +than these others. If anything happened to them +all help for him was gone. Besides, he, too, understood +that these men outside were no longer +strikers, but wolves, whiskey-soaked savages beyond +the control of any strike-leader. +</P> + +<P> +He received no reply. The scraping went on. +Something was being thrust into the gaping crack +which stood an inch wide beneath the door. Suddenly +the noise ceased, followed by a long pause. +Then, in the strong draught under the door, a puff +of oil smoke belched into the room, and its +nauseous reek set Chepstow coughing. His cough +brought an answering peal of brutal laughter from +beyond the door, and some one shouted to his +comrades— +</P> + +<P> +"Bully fer you, bo'! Draw 'em! Draw 'em like +badgers. Smoke 'em out like gophers." +</P> + +<P> +The pungent smoke belched into the room, and +the man darted from the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Quick!" he cried. "Wet rags! A blanket!" +</P> + +<P> +Betty sprang to his assistance. The room was +rapidly filling with smoke, which stung their eyes +and set them choking. A blanket was snatched +off the wounded strike-leader, but the process of +saturating it was slow. They had only one barrel +of water, and dared not waste it by plunging the +blanket into it. So they were forced to resort to +the use of a dipper. At last it was ready and the +man crushed it down at the foot of the door, and +stamped it tight with his foot. +</P> + +<P> +But it had taken too much time to set in place. +The room was dense with a fog of smoke that set +eyes streaming and throats gasping. In reckless +despair the man sprang at one of the windows and +began to tear down the carefully-built barricade. +</P> + +<P> +But now the cunning of the besiegers was displayed. +As the last of the barricade was removed +Chepstow discovered that the cotton covering of the +window was smouldering. He tore it out to let in +the fresh air, but only to release a pile of smouldering +oil rags, which had been placed on the thickness +of the wall, and set it tumbling into the room. The +window was barricaded on the outside! +</P> + +<P> +The smoke became unbearable now, and the two +prisoners set to work to trample the smouldering +rags out. It was while they were thus occupied +that a fresh disaster occurred. There was a terrific +clatter at the stove, and a cloud of smoke and +soot practically put the place in darkness. Nor +did it need the sound of scrambling feet on the +roof to tell those below what had happened. The +strikers, by removing the topmost joint of the pipe, +where it protruded through the roof, had been able, +by the aid of a long stick, to dislodge the rest of +the pipe and send it crashing to the floor. It +was a master-stroke of diabolical cunning, for now, +added to the smoke and soot, the sulphurous fumes +of the blazing stove rendered the conditions of the +room beyond further endurance. +</P> + +<P> +Half blinded and gasping Chepstow sprang at +the table and seized a rifle. Betty had dropped +into a chair choking. The strike-leader lay moaning, +trying to shut out the smoke with his one +remaining blanket. +</P> + +<P> +"Come on, Betty," shouted the man, in a frenzy +of rage. "You've got your revolver. I'm going +to open the door, and may God Almighty have +mercy on the soul of the man who tries to stop us!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap28"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +DAVE—THE MAN +</H4> + +<P> +Dave's buckboard swept up the slope of the last +valley. It reached the dead level of the old travoy +trail, which passed in front of Mason's dugout on +its way to the lumber camp. He was looking ahead +for signs which he feared to discover; he wanted +the reason of the smoke he had seen from afar off. +But now a perfect screen of towering pine forest +lined the way, and all that lay beyond was hidden +from his anxious eyes. +</P> + +<P> +He flogged his horses faster. The perfect mountain +calm was unbroken; even the speeding horses +and the rattle of his buckboard were powerless to +disturb that stupendous quiet. It was a mere circumstance +in a world too vast to take color from a +detail so insignificant. It was that wondrous peace, +that thrilling silence that aggravated his fears. His +apprehension grew with each passing moment, and, +though he made no display, his clutch upon the +reins, the sharpness with which he plied his whip, +the very immobility of his face, all told their tale of +feelings strung to a high pitch. +</P> + +<P> +Mason was standing directly behind him in the +carryall. He steadied himself with a grip upon +the back of the driving-seat. Beside him the +wretched Truscott was sitting on the jolting slats of +the body of the vehicle, mercilessly thrown about +by the bumping over the broken trail. Mason, too, +was staring out ahead. +</P> + +<P> +"Seems quiet enough," he murmured, half to +himself. +</P> + +<P> +Dave caught at his words. +</P> + +<P> +"That's how it seems," he said, in a tone of doubt. +</P> + +<P> +"It's less than half a mile now," Mason went on +a moment later. "We're coming to the big bend." +</P> + +<P> +Dave nodded. His whip fell across his horses' +quarters. "Best get ready," he said significantly. +Then he laughed mirthlessly and tried to excuse +himself. "I don't guess there'll be a heap of +trouble, though." +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +Mason's reply carried no conviction. Both men +were in doubt. Neither knew what to expect. +Neither knew in what way to prepare for the meeting +that was now so near. +</P> + +<P> +Now the trail began to swing out to the right. +It was the beginning of the big bend. The walls +of forest about them receded slightly, opening out +where logs had been felled beside the trail in years +past. The middle of the curve was a small clearing. +Then, further on, as it inclined again to the +left, it narrowed down to the bare breadth of the +trail. +</P> + +<P> +"Just beyond this——" +</P> + +<P> +Mason broke off. His words were cut short by a +loud shout just ahead of them. It was a shout of +triumph and gleeful enjoyment. Dave's whip fell +again, and the horses laid on to their traces. From +that moment to the moment when the horses were +almost flung upon their haunches by the sudden +jolt with which Dave pulled them up was a matter +of seconds only. He was out of the buckboard, +too, having flung the reins to Mason, and was +standing facing a small group of a dozen men whom +it was almost impossible to recognize as lumberjacks. +In truth, there were only three of them who +were, the others were some of those Mason had +been forced to engage in his extremity. +</P> + +<P> +At the sight of Dave's enormous figure a cry +broke from the crowd. Then they looked at the +buckboard with its panting horses, and Mason +standing in the carryall, one hand on the reins and +one resting on the revolver on his hip. Their cry +died out. But as it did so another broke from their +midst. It was Betty's voice, and her uncle's. +There was a scuffle and a rush. Gripping the girl +by the arm Tom Chepstow burst from their midst +and ran to Dave's side, dragging Betty with him. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank God!" he cried. +</P> + +<P> +But there was no answering joy from Dave. He +scarcely even seemed to see them. A livid, frozen +rage glared out of his eyes. His face was terrible +to behold. He moved forward. His gait was cat-like, +his head was thrust forward, it was almost as +if he tiptoed and was about to spring upon the +mob. As he came within a yard of the foremost +of the men he halted, and one great arm shot out +with its fist clenching. +</P> + +<P> +"Back!" he roared; "back to your camp, every +man of you! Back, you cowardly hounds!" +</P> + +<P> +There were twelve of them; fierce, savage, half-drunken +men. They cared for no one, they feared +no one. They were ready to follow whithersoever +their passions led them. There was not a +man among them that would not fight with the last +breath in his body. Yet they hesitated at the +sound of that voice. They almost shrank before +that passion-lit face. The man's enormous stature +was not without awe for them. And in that +moment of hesitation the battle was won for Dave. +Chepstow's repeating-rifle was at his shoulder, and +Mason's revolver had been whipped out of its holster +and was held covering them. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly there was a movement in the crowd, +somewhere behind. If Dave saw it he gave no +sign. But Mason saw it, and, sharply incisive, his +voice rang out— +</P> + +<P> +"The first man that moves this way I'll shoot +him like a dog!" +</P> + +<P> +Instantly every eye among the strikers was +turned upon the two men with their ready weapons, +and to a man they understood that the game +was up. +</P> + +<P> +"Get out! Get out—quick!" Dave's great +voice split the air with another deep roar. And +the retreat began on the instant with those in the +rear. Some one started to run, and in a moment +the rest had joined in a rush for the camp, vanishing +into the forest like a pack of timber wolves, +flinging back fierce, vengeful glances over their +shoulders at those who had so easily routed +them. +</P> + +<P> +No one stirred till the last man had disappeared. +Then Dave turned. +</P> + +<P> +"Quick!" he cried, in an utterly changed voice, +"get into the buckboard!" +</P> + +<P> +But Betty turned to him in a half-hysterical +condition. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Dave, Dave!" she cried helplessly. +</P> + +<P> +But Dave was just now a man whom none of +them had ever seen before. He had words for no +one—not even for Betty. He suddenly caught her +in his arms and lifted her bodily into the buckboard. +He scrambled in after her, while Chepstow +jumped up behind. In a moment, it seemed, they +were racing headlong for the camp. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +The camp was in a ruinous condition. The +destructive demon in men temporarily demented +was abroad and his ruthless hand had fallen +heavily. The whole atmosphere suggested the red +tide of anarchy. The charred remains of the +sutler's store was the centre of a net of ruin spread +out in every direction, and from this radiated the +wreckage of at least a dozen shanties, which had, +like the store, been burned to the ground. +</P> + +<P> +In the circumstances it would be impossible to +guess at the reasons for such destruction: maybe it +was the result of carelessness, maybe a mischievous +delight in sweeping away that which reminded +these men of their obligations to their employer, +maybe it was merely a consequence of the settlement +of their own drunken feuds. Whatever the +cause, the hideous effect of the strike was apparent +in every direction. +</P> + +<P> +In the centre of the clearing was a great gathering +of the lumbermen. Their seared faces expressed +every variety of mental attitude, from fierce +jocularity down to the blackest hatred of interference +from those whose authority had become +anathema to them. +</P> + +<P> +They were gathered at the call of those who had +fled from the dugout, spurred to a defense of what +they believed to be their rights by a hurried, +garbled account of the summary treatment just +meted out to them. They were ready for more +than the mere assertion of their demands. They +were ready to enforce them, they were ready for +any mischief which the circumstances prompted. +</P> + +<P> +It was a deadly array. Many were sober, many +were sobering, many were still drunk. The latter +were those whose cunning had prompted them, at +the outset of the strike, to secrete a sufficient +supply of liquor from their fellows. And the +majority of these were not the real lumber-jacks, +those great simple children of the forest, but the +riffraff that had drifted into the camp, or had been +sent thither by those who promoted the strike. +The real lumber-jacks were more or less incapable +of such foresight and cunning. They were slow-thinking +creatures of vast muscle, only swift and +keen as the axes they used when engaged in the +work which was theirs. +</P> + +<P> +Through the rank animal growth of their bodies +their minds had remained too stunted to display +the low cunning of the scallywags whose unscrupulous +wits alone must supply their idle bodies +with a livelihood. But simple as babes, simple and +silly as sheep, and as dependent upon their +shepherd, as these men were, they were at all times +dangerous, the more dangerous for their very +simplicity. Just now, with their unthinking brains +sick with the poison of labor's impossible +argument, and the execrable liquor of the camp, they +were a hundred times more deadly. +</P> + +<P> +Men had come in for the orgy from all the +outlying camps. They had been carefully shepherded +by those whose business it was to make the +strike successful. Discontent had been preached +into every ear, and the seed had fallen upon +fruitful, virgin soil. Thus it was that a great +concourse had foregathered now. +</P> + +<P> +There was an atmosphere of restrained excitement +abroad among them. For them the news of +Dave's arrival had tremendous possibilities. A +babel of harsh voices debated the situation in loud +tones, each man forcing home his argument with a +mighty power of lung, a never-failing method of +supporting doubtful argument. The general attitude +was threatening, yet it hardly seemed to be +unanimous. There was too much argument. There +seemed to be an undercurrent of uncertainty with +no single, capable voice to check or guide it. +</P> + +<P> +As the moments sped the crowd became more +and more threatening, but whether against the +master of the mills, or whether the result of hot +blood and hot words, it would have been difficult +to say. Then, just as the climax seemed to be +approaching, a magical change swept over the +throng. It was wrought by the sudden appearance +of Dave's buckboard, which seemed to leap upon +the scene from the depth of the forest. And as it +came into view a hoarse, fierce shout went up. +Then, in a moment, an expectant hush fell. +</P> + +<P> +Dave's eyes were fixed upon the crowd before +him. He gave no sign. His face, like a mask, +was cold, hard, unyielding. No word was spoken +by those in the buckboard. Every one, with nerves +straining and pulses throbbing, was waiting for +what was to happen; every one except the prisoner, +Truscott. +</P> + +<P> +The master of the mills read the meaning of +what he beheld with the sureness of a man bred to +the calling of these men. He knew. And knowing, +he had little blame for them. How could it be +otherwise with these unthinking souls? The blame +must lie elsewhere. But his sympathy left his determination +unaltered. He knew, no one better, +that here the iron heel alone could prevail, and for +the time his heel was shod for the purpose. +</P> + +<P> +He drew near. Some one shouted a furious +epithet at him, and the cry was taken up by others. +The horses shied. He swung them back with a +heavy hand, and forced them to face the crowd, his +whip falling viciously at the same time. But, for a +moment, his face relaxed its cold expression. His +quick ears had detected a lack of unanimity in the +execration. Suddenly he pulled the horses up. +He passed the reins to Mason and leaped to the +ground. +</P> + +<P> +It was a stirring moment. The mob advanced, +but the movement seemed almost reluctant. It +was not the rush of blind fury one might have +expected, but rather as though it were due to pressure +from behind by those under cover of their comrades +in front. +</P> + +<P> +Dave moved on to meet them, and those in the +buckboard remained deathly still. Mason was the +first to move. He had just become aware that +Dave had left his revolver on the seat of the vehicle. +Instantly he lifted the reins and walked the horses +closer to the crowd. +</P> + +<P> +"He's unarmed," he said, in explanation to the +parson. +</P> + +<P> +Chepstow nodded. He moved his repeating-rifle +to a handier position. Betty looked up. +</P> + +<P> +"He left that gun purposely," she said. "I saw +him." +</P> + +<P> +Her face was ghastly pale, but a light shone in +her eyes which nobody could have failed to interpret. +Mason saw it and no longer hesitated. +</P> + +<P> +"Will you take these reins?" he said. "And—give +me your revolver." +</P> + +<P> +The girl understood and obeyed in silence. +</P> + +<P> +"I think there'll be trouble," Mason went on +a moment later, as he saw Dave halt within a few +yards of the front rank of the strikers. +</P> + +<P> +He watched the men close about his chief in a +semicircle, but the buckboard in rear always held +open a road for retreat. Now the crowd pressed up +from behind. The semicircle became dense. +Those in the buckboard saw that many of the men +were carrying the tools of their calling, prominent +among them being the deadly peavey, than which, +in case of trouble, no weapon could be more dangerous +at close quarters. +</P> + +<P> +As he halted Dave surveyed the sea of rough, +hard faces glowering upon him. He heard the +mutterings. He saw the great bared arms and the +knotty hands grasping the hafts of their tools. He +saw all this and understood, but the sight in no way +disturbed him. His great body was erect, his cold +eyes unwavering. It was the unconscious pose of a +man who feels the power to control within him. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" he inquired, with an easy drawl. +</P> + +<P> +Instantly there was silence everywhere. It was +the critical moment. It was the moment when, +before all things, he must convince these lawless +creatures of his power, his reserve of commanding +force. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" he demanded again. "Where's your +leader? Where's the gopher running this layout? +I've come right along to talk to you boys to see if +we can't straighten this trouble out. Where's your +leader, the man who was hired to make you think I +wasn't treating you right; where is he? Speak up, +boys, I can't rightly hear all you're saying. I want +to parley with your leaders." +</P> + +<P> +Mason listening to the great voice of the lumberman +chuckled inaudibly. He realized something +of Dave's method, and the shrewdness of it. +</P> + +<P> +The mutterings had begun afresh. Some of the +front rank men drew nearer. Dave did not move. +He wanted an answer. He wanted an indication of +their actual mood. Somebody laughed in the +crowd. It was promptly shouted down. It was +the indication the master of the mills sought. They +wanted to hear what he had to say. He allowed +the ghost of a smile to play round the corners of +his stern mouth for a moment. But his attitude +remained uncompromising. His back stiffened, his +great shoulders squared, he stood out a giant +amongst those giants of the forest. +</P> + +<P> +"Where's your man?" he cried, in a voice that +could be heard by everybody. "Is he backing +down? That's not like a lumber-jack. P'r'aps he's +not a lumber-jack. P'r'aps he's got no clear argument +I can't answer. P'r'aps he hasn't got the grit +to get out in the open and talk straight as man to +man. Well, let it go at that. Guess you'd best set +one of you up as spokesman. I've got all the time +you need to listen." +</P> + +<P> +"Your blasted skunk of a foreman shot him +down!" cried a voice in the crowd, and it was supported +by ominous murmurs from the rest. +</P> + +<P> +"By God, and Mason was right!" cried Dave, in +a voice so fierce that it promptly silenced the murmurs. +His dilating eyes rested on several familiar +faces. The faces of men who had worked for him +for years, men whose hair was graying in the service +of the woods. He also flashed his lightning glance +upon faces unfamiliar, strangers to his craft. "By +God, he was right!" he repeated, as though to force +the violence of his opinion upon them. "I could +have done it myself. And why? Because he has +come here and told you you are badly treated. +He's told you the tale that the profits of this work +of yours belong to you. He's told you I am an +oppressor, who lives by the sweat of your labors. +He tells you this because he is paid to tell you. +Because he is paid by those who wish to ruin my +mills, and put me out of business, and so rob you +all of the living I have made it possible for you to +earn. You refuse to work at his bidding; what is +the result? My mill is closed down. I am ruined. +These forests are my right to cut. There is no +more cutting to be done. You starve. Yes, you +starve like wolves in winter. You'll say you can +get work elsewhere. Go and get it, and you'll +starve till you get it at half the wage I pay you. I +am telling you what is right. I am talking to you +with the knowledge of my own ruin staring me in +the face. You have been told you can squeeze me, +you can squeeze a fraction more of pay out of me. +But you can't, not one cent, any man of you; and +if you go to work again to keep our ship afloat +you'll have to work harder than ever before—for +the same pay. Now pass up your spokesman, and +I'll talk to him. I can't bellow for all the world to +hear." +</P> + +<P> +It was a daring beginning, so daring that those in +the buckboard gasped in amazement. But Dave +knew his men, or, at least, he knew the real lumber-jack. +Straight, biting talk must serve him, or +nothing would. +</P> + +<P> +Now followed a buzz of excited talk. There +were those among the crowd who from the beginning +had had doubts, and to these Dave's words +appealed. He had voiced something of what they +had hazily thought. Others there were who were +furious at his biting words. Others again, and +these were not real lumber-jacks, who were for +turning upon him the savage brutality of their +drink-soaked brains. +</P> + +<P> +An altercation arose. It was the dispute of factions +suddenly inflamed. It was somewhere in rear +of the crowd. Those in front turned to learn the +cause. Dave watched and listened. He understood. +It was the result of his demand for a +spokesman. Opinions were divided, and a dozen +different men were urged forward. He knew he +must check the dispute. Suddenly his voice rang +out above the din. +</P> + +<P> +"It's no use snarling about it like a lot of coyotes," +he roared. "Pass them all through, and +I'll listen to 'em all. Now, boys, pass 'em through +peaceably." +</P> + +<P> +One of the men in front of him supported him. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, aye," he shouted. "That's fair, boys, +bring 'em along. The boss'll talk 'em straight." +</P> + +<P> +The man beside him hit him sharply in the ribs, +and the broad-shouldered "jack" swung round. +</P> + +<P> +"Ther' ain't no 'boss' to this layout, Peter," objected +the man who had dealt the blow. "Yonder +feller ain't no better'n us." +</P> + +<P> +The man scowled threateningly as he spoke. He +was an enormous brute with a sallow, ill-tempered +face, and black hair. Dave heard the words and +his eyes surveyed him closely. He saw at a glance +there was nothing of the lumberman about him. +He set him down at once as a French Canadian +bully, probably one of the men instrumental in the +strike. +</P> + +<P> +However, his attention was now drawn to the +commotion caused by six of the lumbermen being +pushed to the front as spokesmen. They joined +the front rank, and stood sheepishly waiting for +their employer. Custom and habit were strong upon +them, and a certain awe of the master of the mills +affected them. +</P> + +<P> +"Now we'll get doing," Dave said, noting with +satisfaction that four of the six were old hands who +had worked beside him in his early days. "Well, +boys, let's have it. What's your trouble? Give us +the whole story." +</P> + +<P> +But as spokesmen these fellows were not brilliant. +They hesitated, and, finally, with something +approaching a shamefaced grin, one of them spoke up. +</P> + +<P> +"It's—it's jest wages, boss." +</P> + +<P> +"Leave it at 'wages,' Bob!" shouted a voice at +the back of the crowd. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," snarled the sallow-faced giant near by. +"We're jest man to man. Ther' ain't no 'bosses' +around." +</P> + +<P> +"Hah!" Dave breathed the ejaculation. Then +he turned his eyes, steely hard, upon the last +speaker, and his words came in an unmistakable +tone. "It seems there are men here who aren't +satisfied with their spokesmen. Maybe they'll +speak out good and plenty, instead of interrupting." +</P> + +<P> +His challenge seemed to appeal to the original +spokesman, for he laughed roughly. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, boss," he cried, "he don't cut no ice, anyways. +He's jest a bum roadmaker. He ain't bin +in camp more'n six weeks. We don't pay no 'tention +to him. Y'see, boss," he went on, emphasizing +the last word purposely, "it's jest wages. +We're workin' a sight longer hours than is right, +an' we ain't gettin' nuthin' extry 'cep' the rise you +give us three months back. Wal, we're wantin' +more. That's how." +</P> + +<P> +He finished up his clumsy speech with evident relief, +and mopped his forehead with his ham-like hand. +</P> + +<P> +"And since when, Bob Nicholson, have you +come to this conclusion?" demanded Dave, with +evident kindliness. +</P> + +<P> +His tone produced instant effect upon the man. +He became easier at once, and his manner changed +to one of distinct friendliness. +</P> + +<P> +"Wal, boss, I can't rightly say jest when, fer +sure. Guess it must ha' bin when that orator-feller +got around——" +</P> + +<P> +"Shut up!" roared some one in the crowd, and +the demand was followed up by distinct cursing in +several directions. The sallow-faced roadmaker +seized his opportunity. +</P> + +<P> +"It's wages we want an' wages we're goin' to +git!" he shouted so that the crowd could hear. +"You're sweatin' us. That's wot you're doin', +sweatin' us, to make your pile a sight bigger. +We're honest men up here; we ain't skunks what +wants wot isn't our lawful rights. Ef you're +yearnin' fer extry work you got to pay fer it. Wot +say, boys?" +</P> + +<P> +"Aye! That's it. Extry wages," cried a number +of voices in the background. But again the +chorus was not unanimous. There were those, too, +in the front whose scowling faces, turned on the +speaker, showed their resentment at this interference +by a man they did not recognize as a lumber-jack. +</P> + +<P> +Dave seized his opportunity. +</P> + +<P> +"You're wanting extra wages for overtime," he +cried, in a voice that carried like a steam siren. +"Well, why didn't you ask for them? Why did +you go out on strike first, and then ask? Why? +I'll tell you why. I'll tell you why you chose this +damned gopher racket instead of acting like the +honest men you boast yourselves to be. I can tell +you why you wanted to lock up your camp-boss, +and so prevent your wishes reaching me. I can +tell you why you had men on the road between +here and Malkern to stop letters going through. I +can tell you why you honest men set fire to the +store here, and stole all the liquor and goods in it. +I can tell you why you did these things. Because +you've just listened like silly sheep to the skunks +who've come along since the fever broke out. Because +you've listened to the men who've set out to +ruin us both, you and me. Because you've listened +to these scallywags, who aren't lumbermen, who've +come among you. They're not 'jacks' and they +don't understand the work, but they've been drawing +the same wages as you, and they're trying to +rob you of your living, they're trying to take your +jobs from you and leave you nothing. That's why +you've done these things, you boys who've worked +with me for years and years, and had all you +needed. Are you going to let 'em rob you? +They <i>are</i> robbing you, for, I swear before God, my +mills are closed down, and they'll remain closed, +and every one of you can get out and look for new +work unless you turn to at once." +</P> + +<P> +A murmur again arose as he finished speaking, +but this time there was a note of alarm in it, a note +of anger that was not against their employer. +Faces looked puzzled, and ended by frowning into +the faces of neighbors. Dave understood the effect +he had made. He was waiting for a bigger effect. +He was fighting for something that was dearer to +him than life, and all his courage and resource were +out to the limit. He glanced at the sallow-faced +giant. Their eyes met, and in his was a fierce challenge. +He drew the fellow as easily as any expert +swordsman. The man had been shrewd enough to +detect the change in his comrades, and he promptly +hurled himself into the fray to try and recover the +lost ground. He stepped forward, towering over +his fellows. He meant mischief. +</P> + +<P> +"See, mates," he shouted, trying to put a jeer in +his angry voice, "look at 'im! He's come here to +call us a pack o' skunks an' gophers. Him wot's +makin' thousands o' dollars a day out of us. He's +come here to kick us like a lot o' lousy curs. His +own man shot up our leader, him as was trying to +fit things right fer us. I tell you it was murder—bloody +murder! We're dirt to him. He can kick +us—shoot us up. We're dogs—lousy yeller dogs—we +are. You'll listen to his slobbery talk an' +you'll go to work—and he'll cut your wages lower, +so he can make thousan's more out o' you." Then +he suddenly swung round on Dave with a fierce +oath. "God blast you, it's wages we want—d'ye +hear—wages! An' we're goin' to have 'em! You +ain't goin' to grind us no longer, mister! You're +goin' to sign a 'greement fer a rise o' wages of a +quarter all round. That's wot you're goin' to +do!" +</P> + +<P> +Dave was watching, watching. His opportunity +was coming. +</P> + +<P> +"I came to talk to honest 'jacks,'" he said icily, +"not to blacklegs. I'll trouble you to get right +back into the crowd, and hide your ugly head, and +keep your foul tongue quiet. The boys have got +their spokesmen." +</P> + +<P> +His voice was sharp, but the man failed to apprehend +the danger that lay behind it. He was a +bigger man than Dave, and, maybe, he thought to +cow him. Perhaps he didn't realize that the master +of the mills was now fighting for his existence. +</P> + +<P> +There was an instant's pause, and Dave took a +step toward him. +</P> + +<P> +"Get back!" he roared. +</P> + +<P> +His furious demand precipitated things, as he +intended it should. Like lightning the giant +whipped out a gun. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll show you!" he cried. +</P> + +<P> +There was a sharp report. But before he could +pull the trigger a second time Dave's right fist shot +out, and a smashing blow on the chin felled him to +the ground like a pole-axed ox. +</P> + +<P> +As the man fell Dave turned again to the +strikers, and no one noticed that his left arm was +hanging helpless at his side. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap29"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIX +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE END OF THE STRIKE +</H4> + +<P> +When the master of the mills faced the men +again he hardly knew what to expect. He could +not be sure how they would view his action, or +what attitude they would adopt. He had considered +well before provoking the sallow-faced +giant, he had measured him up carefully; the thing +had been premeditated. He knew the influence of +physical force upon these men. The question was, +had he used it at the right moment? He thought +he had; he understood lumbermen, but there were +more than lumbermen here, and he knew that it +was this element of outsiders with whom he was +really contending. +</P> + +<P> +The fallen man's pistol was on the ground at his +feet. He put a foot upon it; then, glancing swiftly +at the faces before him, he became aware of a silence, +utter, complete, reigning everywhere. There +was astonishment, even something of awe in many +of the faces; in others doubt mingled with a scowling +displeasure. The thing had happened so suddenly. +The firing of the shot had startled them unpleasantly, +and they were still looking for the result +of it. On this point they had no satisfaction. +Only Dave knew—he had reason to. The arm +hanging limply at his side, and the throb of pain at +his shoulder left him in no doubt. But he had no +intention of imparting his knowledge to any one +else yet. He had not finished the fight which must +justify his existence as the owner of the mills. +</P> + +<P> +The effect of his encounter was not an unpleasant +one on the majority of the men. The use of a fist +in the face of a gun was stupendous, even to them. +Many of them reveled in the outsider's downfall, +and contemplated the grit of their employer with +satisfaction. But there were others not so easily +swayed. Amongst these were the man's own comrades, +men who, like himself, were not real lumbermen, +but agitators who had received payment to +agitate. Besides these there were those unstable +creatures, always to be found in such a community, +who had no very definite opinions of their own, but +looked for the lead of the majority, ready to side +with those who offered the strongest support. +</P> + +<P> +All this was very evident in that moment of +silence, but the moment passed so quickly that it +was impossible to say how far Dave's action had +really served him. Suddenly a murmur started. +In a few seconds it had risen to a shout. It started +with the fallen giant's friends. There was a rush in +the crowd, an ominous swaying, as of a struggle going +on in its midst. Some one put up a vicious cry +that lifted clear above the general din. +</P> + +<P> +"Lynch him! Lynch him!" +</P> + +<P> +The cry was taken up by the rest of the makeshifts +and some of the doubters. Then came the +sudden but inevitable awakening of the slow, fierce +brains of the real men of the woods. The awakening +brought with it not so much a desire to +champion their employer, as a resentment that +these men they regarded as scallywags should +attempt to take initiative in their concerns; it was +the rousing of the latent hatred which ever exists in +the heart of the legitimate tradesman for the +interloper. It caught them in a whirlwind of +passion. Their blood rose. All other considerations +were forgotten, it mattered nothing the object +of that mutiny, all thought of wages, all thought of +wrongs between themselves and their employer +were banished from their minds. They hated +nothing so badly as these men with whom they +had worked in apparent harmony. +</P> + +<P> +It was at this psychological moment that the +final fillip was given. It came from a direction +that none of the crowd realized. It came from one +who knew the woodsman down to his very core, +who had watched every passing mood of the crowd +during the whole scene with the intentness of one +who only waits his opportunity. It was Bob +Mason in the buckboard. +</P> + +<P> +"Down with the blacklegs! Down with the +dirty 'scabs'!" he shouted. +</P> + +<P> +In a moment the battle was raging. There was +a wild rush of men, and their steel implements were +raised aloft. "Down with the 'scabs'!" The cry +echoed and reëchoed in every direction, taken up +by every true lumberman. A tumult of shouting +and cursing roared everywhere. The crowd broke. +It spread out. Groups of struggling combatants +were dotted about till the sight suggested nothing +so much as a massacre. It was a fight of brutal +savagery that would stop short only at actual +slaughter. It was the safety-valve for the accumulated +spleen of a week's hard drinking. It was the +only way to steady the shaken, drink-soaked nerves +and restore the dull brains to the dead level of a +desire to return to work and order. +</P> + +<P> +Fortunately it was a short-lived battle too. The +lumber-jacks were the masters from the outset. +They were better men, they were harder, they had +more sheer "grit." Then, too, they were in the +majority. The "scabs" began to seek refuge in +flight, but not before they had received a chastisement +that would remain a sore memory for many +days to come. Those who went down in the fight +got the iron-shod boots of their adversaries in their +ribs, till, in desperation, they scrambled to their feet +and took their punishment like men. But the +victory was too easy for the lumber-jacks' rage to +last. Like the wayward, big-hearted children of +nature they were, their fury passed as quickly as it +had stirred. The terror-stricken flight of those +upon whom their rage had turned inspired in them +a sort of fiendish amusement, and in this was +perhaps the saving of a terrible tragedy. As it +was, a few broken limbs, a liberal tally of wounds +and bruises were the harvest of that battle. That, +and the final clearing out of the element of discontent. +It was victory for the master of the mills. +</P> + +<P> +In less than ten minutes the victors were straggling +back from their pursuit of a routed foe. +Dave had not moved. He was still standing beside +the fallen giant, who was now recovering consciousness +from the knock-out blow he had received. +They came up in small bands, laughing and +recounting episodes of the fight. They were in +the saving mood for their employer. All thoughts +of a further strike had passed out of their simple +heads. They came back to Dave, like sheep, who, +after a wild stampede, have suddenly refound their +shepherd, and to him they looked for guidance. +And Dave was there for the purpose. He called +their attention and addressed them. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, boys," he said cheerfully, "you've got +nicely rid of that scum, and I'm going to talk to +you. We understand each other. We've worked +too long together for it to be otherwise. But we +don't understand those others who're not lumbermen. +Say, maybe you can't all hear me; my voice isn't +getting stronger, so I'll just call up that buckboard +and stand on it, and talk from there." +</P> + +<P> +Amidst a murmur of approval the buckboard +was drawn up, and not without tremendous pain +Dave scrambled up into the driving-seat. Then it +was seen by both lumbermen and those in the +buckboard that he had left a considerable pool of +blood where he had been standing. +</P> + +<P> +Betty, with horror in her eyes, turned to him. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it?" she began. But he checked her +with a look, and turned at once to the men. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm first going to tell you about this strike, +boys," he said. "After that we'll get to business, +and I guess it won't be my fault if we don't figger +things out right. Here, do you see this fellow +sitting here? Maybe some of you'll recognize +him?" He pointed at Jim Truscott sitting in the +carryall. His expression was surly, defiant. But +somehow he avoided the faces in front of him. +"I'm going to tell you about him. This is the +man who organized the strike. He found the +money and the men to do the dirty work. He did +it because he hates me and wants to ruin me. He +came to you with plausible tales of oppression and +so forth. He cared nothing for you, but he hated +me. I tell you frankly he did this thing because he +knew I was pushed to the last point to make good +my contract with the government, because he +knew that to delay the output of logs from this +camp meant that I should go to smash. In doing +this he meant to carry you down with me. That's +how much he cares for your interests." A growl +of anger punctuated his speech. But he silenced +them with a gesture and proceeded. His voice +was getting weaker, and a deadly pallor was stealing +over his face. Chepstow, watching him, was +filled with anxiety. Betty's brown eyes clung to +his face with an expression of love, horror and pity +in them that spoke far louder than any words. +Mason was simply calculating in his mind how +long Dave could keep up his present attitude. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you get my meaning, boys?" he went on. +"It's this, if we don't get this work through +before winter I'm broke—broke to my last dollar. +And you'll be out of a billet—every mother's +son of you—with the winter staring you in the +face." +</P> + +<P> +He paused and took a deep breath. Betty even +thought she saw him sway. The men kept an intense +silence. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" he went on a moment later, pulling +himself together with an evident effort. "I'm just +here to talk straight business, and that's what you're +going to listen to. First, I'll tell you this fellow's +going to get his right medicine through me in the +proper manner. Then, second and last, I want to +give you a plain understanding of things between +ourselves. There's going to be no rise in wages. I +just can't do it. That's all. But I'm going to give +each man in my camp a big bonus, a nice fat wad +of money with which to paint any particular town +he favors red, when the work's done. That's to be +extra, above his wages. And the whole lot of you +shall work for me next season on a guarantee. But +from now to the late fall you're going to work, +boys, you're going to work as if the devil himself +was driving you. We've got time to make up, and +shortage besides, and you've got to make it up. +I don't want any slackers. Men who have any +doubts can get right out. You've got to work as +you never worked in your lives before. Now, boys, +give us your word. Is it work or——" +</P> + +<P> +Dave got no further. A shout—hearty, enthusiastic—went +up from the crowd. It meant work, +and he was satisfied. +</P> + +<P> +The next few minutes were passed in a scene of +the wildest excitement. The men closed round the +buckboard, and struggled with each other to grip +the big man's hand. And Dave, faint and weary +as he was, knew them too well to reject their +friendly overtures. Besides, they were, as he said, +like himself, men of the woods, and he was full of a +great sympathy and friendliness for them. At last, +however, he turned to Chepstow. +</P> + +<P> +"Drive back to the dugout, Tom," he said. +"Things are getting misty. I think—I'm—done." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap30"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXX +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +IN THE DUGOUT +</H4> + +<P> +<SPAN STYLE="font-variant: small-caps">Three</SPAN> arduous and anxious days followed the +ending of the strike, and each of the occupants of +Mason's dugout felt the strain of them in his or her +own particular way. Next to the strike itself, +Dave's wound was the most serious consideration. +He was the leader, the rudder of his ship; his was +the controlling brain; and he was a most exasperating +patient. His wound was bad enough, though +not dangerous. It would be weeks before the use +of his left arm was restored to him; but he had a +way of forgetting this, of forgetting that he had lost +a great quantity of blood, until weakness prostrated +him and roused him to a peevish perversity. +</P> + +<P> +Betty was his self-appointed nurse. Tom Chepstow +might examine his wound and consider his +condition, but it was Betty who dressed his wound, +Betty who prepared his food and ministered to his +lightest needs. From the moment of his return to +the dugout she took charge of him. She consulted +no one, she asked for no help. For the time, at +least, he was her possession, he was hers to lavish +all the fulness of her great love upon, a love that +had something almost maternal in its wonderful +protective instinct. +</P> + +<P> +Mason was busy with the work of reorganization. +His was the practical hand and head while Dave +was on his sick-bed. From daylight to long after +dark he took no rest. Dave's counsel guided him +to an extent, but much had to be done without any +consultation with the master of the mills. Provisioning +the camp was a problem not easily solved. +It was simple enough to order up food from Malkern, +but there would be at least a week's delay before +its arrival. Finally, he surmounted this difficulty, +through the return of Lieberstein, who had +fled to the woods with his cash-box and a supply of +provisions, at the first sign of trouble. Now he had +returned to save what he could from the wreck. +The Jew needed assistance to recover his looted +property—what remained of it. The overseer gave +him that assistance, and at the same time arranged +that all provisions so recovered should be redistributed +(at a price) as rations to the men. Thus the +delay in the arrival of supplies from Malkern was +tided over. But though he availed himself of this +means of getting over his difficulty he was fully determined +to rid the camp, at the earliest opportunity, +of so treacherous a rascal as Lieberstein. +</P> + +<P> +In two days the work of restoration was in full +swing. The burned store and shanties were run up +with all a lumberman's rapidity and disregard for finish. +Time was the thing that mattered. And so +wonderfully did Mason drive and cajole his men, that +on the third day the gangs once more marched out +into the woods. Once again the forests echoed +with the hiss of saw, the ringing clang of smiting +axe, the crash of falling trees, the harsh voices of +the woodsmen, and the hundred and one sounds of +bustling activity which belong to a lumber camp in +full work. +</P> + +<P> +That day was a pleasant one for the occupants of +the dugout. It was a wonderful work Mason had +done. They all knew and appreciated his devotion +to his wounded employer, and though none spoke +of it, whenever he appeared in their midst their appreciation +of him showed in their manner. Betty +was very gentle and kindly. She saw that he +wanted for nothing in the way of the comforts +which the dugout could provide. +</P> + +<P> +Tom Chepstow was far too busy with his sick to +give attention to anything else. His hands were +very full, and his was a task that showed so little +result. Dave, for the most part, saw everything +that was going on about him, and had a full estimate +of all that was being done in his interests by +the devoted little band, and, absurdly enough, the +effect upon him was to stir him to greater irritability. +</P> + +<P> +It was evening, and the slanting sunlight shone +in through one of the windows. It was a narrow +beam of light, but its effect was sufficiently cheering. +No dugout is a haven of brightness, and just now +this one needed all that could help to lift the shadow +of sickness and disaster that pervaded it. +</P> + +<P> +Betty was preparing supper, and Dave, lying on +his stretcher, his vast bulk only half concealed by the +blanket thrown over him, was watching the girl with +eyes that fed hungrily upon the swift, graceful +movements of her pretty figure, the play of expression +upon her sweet, sun-tanned face, the intentness, +the whole-hearted concentration in her steady, serious +eyes as she went about her work. +</P> + +<P> +Now and again she glanced over at his rough +bed, but he seemed to be asleep every time she +turned in his direction. The result was an additional +care in her work. She made no noise lest +she should waken him. Presently she stooped and +pushed a log into the fire-box of the cook-stove. +The cinders fell with a clatter, and she glanced +round apprehensively. Her movement was so +sudden that Dave's wide-open eyes had no time +to shut. In a moment she was all contrition at her +clumsiness. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm so sorry, Dave," she exclaimed. "I did so +hope you'd sleep on till supper. It's half an hour +yet." +</P> + +<P> +"I haven't been sleeping at all." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, I——" +</P> + +<P> +He smiled and shook his head, and his smile delighted +the girl. It was the first she had seen in +him since his arrival in the camp. His impatience +at being kept to his bed was perhaps dying out. +She had always heard that the most active and impatient +always became reconciled to bed in the end. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I did it on purpose," Dave said, still smiling. +"You see I wanted to think. You'd have +talked if I hadn't. I——" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Dave!" +</P> + +<P> +Betty's reproach had something very like resentment +in it. She turned abruptly to the boiler of +stew and tasted its contents, while the man chuckled +softly. +</P> + +<P> +But she turned round on him again almost immediately. +</P> + +<P> +"Why are you laughing?" she demanded +quickly. +</P> + +<P> +But he did not seem inclined to enlighten her. +</P> + +<P> +"Half an hour to supper?" he said musingly. +"Tom'll be in directly—and Mason." +</P> + +<P> +Betty was still looking at him with her cooking +spoon poised as it had been when she tasted the +stew. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said, "they'll be in directly. I've +only just got to make the tea." She dropped the +spoon upon the table and replaced the lid of the +boiler. Then she came over to his bedside. "What +did you mean saying I should have talked?" she +asked, only now there was a smiling response to +the smile still lurking in the gray depths of the +man's eyes. Dave drew a long sigh of resignation. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, y'see, Betty, if I'd laid here with my eyes +open, staring about the room, at you, at the roof, at +the window for a whole heap of time, you'd have +said to yourself, 'Dave's suffering sure. He can't +sleep. He's miserable, unhappy.' You'd have +said all those things, and with all your kind little +heart, you'd have set to work to cheer me up—same +as you'd no doubt have done for that strike-leader +fellow you shipped over to the sick camp to make +room for me. Well, I just didn't want that kind of +cheering. I was thinking—thinking mighty hard—figgering +how best to make a broken-winged—er—owl +fly without waiting for the wing to mend. +Y'see, thinking's mostly all I can do just now, and +I need to do such a mighty heap to keep me from +getting mad and breaking things. Y'see every +hour, as I lie here, I kind of seem to be storing up +steam like a locomotive, and sometimes I feel—feel +as if I was going to bust. Being sick makes +me hate things." His smiling protest was yet perfectly +serious. The girl understood. A moment +later he went on. "Half an hour to supper?" he +said, as though suddenly reaching a decision that +had cost him much thought. "Well, just sit right +down on this stretcher, and I'm going to talk you +tired. I'm sick, so you can't refuse." +</P> + +<P> +The man's eyes still smiled, but the seriousness +of his manner had increased. Nor was Betty slow +to observe it. She gladly seated herself on the edge +of the stretcher, and without the least embarrassment, +without the least self-consciousness, her soft +eyes rested on the rugged face of her patient. She +was glad that he wanted to talk—and to her, and +she promptly took him up in his own tone. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I've got to listen, I s'pose," she said, with +a bright smile. "As you say, you're sick. You +might have added that I am your nurse." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I s'pose you are. It seems funny me +needing a nurse. I s'pose I do need one?" +</P> + +<P> +Betty nodded; her eyes were bright with an +emotion that the man's words had all unconsciously +stirred. This man, so strong for himself, so strong +to help others—this man, on whom all who came +into contact with him leaned as upon some staunch, +unfailing support—this man, so invincible, so masterful, +so eager in the battle where the odds were +against him, needed a nurse! A great pity, a great +sympathy, went out to him. Then a feeling of joy +and gratitude at the thought that she was his nurse +succeeded it. She—she alone had the right to wait +upon him. But her face expressed none of these +feelings when she replied. She nodded gravely. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, you need a nurse, you poor old Dave. +Just for once you're going to give others a chance +of being to you what you have always been to +them. It breaks my heart to see you on a sickbed; +but, Dave, you can never know the joy, the +happiness it gives me to be—your nurse. All my +life it has been the other way. All my life you +have been my wise counselor, my ever-ready loyal +friend; now, in ever so small a degree, you have to +lean on me. Don't be perverse, Dave. Let me +help you all I can. Don't begrudge me so small a +happiness. But you said you were going to talk +me tired, and I'm doing it all." She laughed lightly, +but it was a laugh to hide her real feelings. +</P> + +<P> +The man's uninjured arm reached out, and his +great hand rested heavily on one of hers. The +pressure of his fingers, intended to be gentle, was +crushing. His action meant so much. No words +could have thanked her more truly than that hand +pressure. Betty's face grew warm with delight; +and she turned her eyes toward the stove as though +to see that all was well with her cooking. +</P> + +<P> +"They're cutting to-day?" Dave's eyes were +turned upon the window. The sunlight was dying +out now, and the gray dusk was stealing upon the +room. Betty understood the longing in the man's +heart. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, they're cutting." +</P> + +<P> +He stirred uneasily. +</P> + +<P> +"My shoulder is mending fast," he said a moment +later. And the girl saw his drift. +</P> + +<P> +She shook her head. +</P> + +<P> +"It's mending, but it won't be well—for weeks," +she said. +</P> + +<P> +"It's got to be," he said, with tense emphasis, +after a long pause. His voice was low, but thrilling +with the purpose of a mind that would not +bend to the weakness of his body. +</P> + +<P> +"You must be patient, Dave dear," the girl said, +with the persuasiveness of a mother for her child. +</P> + +<P> +For a moment the man's brows drew together in +a frown and his lips compressed. +</P> + +<P> +"Betty, Betty, I can't be patient," he suddenly +burst out. "I know I'm all wrong; but I can't be +patient. You know what all this means. I'm not +going to attempt to tell you. You understand it +all. I cannot lie here a day longer. Even now I +seem to hear the saws and axes at work. I seem +to see the men moving through the forests. I +seem to hear Mason's orders in the dead calm of +the woods. With the first logs that are travoyed +to the river I must leave here and get back to Malkern. +There is work to be done, and from now on +it will be man's work. It will be more than a fight +against time. It will be a battle against almost incalculable +odds, a battle in which all is against us. +Betty, you are my nurse, and as you hope to see +me through with this broken shoulder, so you must +not attempt to alter my decision. I know you. +You want to see me fit and well. Before all things +you desire that. You will understand me when I +say that, before all things, I must see the work +through. My bodily comfort must not be considered; +and as my friend, as my nurse, you must +not hinder me. I must leave here to-night." +</P> + +<P> +The man had lifted himself to a half-sitting posture +in his excitement, and the girl watched him +with anxious eyes. Now she reached out, and one +hand gently pressed him back to his pillow. As +he had said, she understood; and when she spoke, +her words were the words he wished to hear. +They soothed him at once. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Dave. If you must return, it shall be as +you say." +</P> + +<P> +He caught her hand and held it, crushing its +small round flesh in the hollow of his great palm. +It was his gratitude, his gratitude for her understanding +and sympathy. His eyes met hers. And +in that moment something else stirred in him. +The pressure tightened upon her unresisting hand. +The blood mounted to her head. It seemed to intoxicate +her. It was a moment of such ecstasy as +she had dreamed of in a vague sort of way—a moment +when the pure woman spirit in her was exalted +to such a throne of spiritual light as is beyond +the dream of human imagination. +</P> + +<P> +In the man, too, was a change. There was +something looking out of his eyes which seemed to +have banished his last thought of that lifelong desire +for the success of his labors, something which +left him no room for anything else, something +which had for its inception all the human passionate +desire of his tremendous soul. His gray eyes +glowed with a living fire; they deepened; a flush +of hot blood surged over his rugged features, lighting +them out of their plainness. His temples +throbbed visibly, and the vast sinews shivered with +the fire that swept through his body. +</P> + +<P> +In a daze Betty understood the change. Her +heart leaped out to him, yielding all her love, all that +was hers to give. It cried aloud her joy in the +passion of those moments, but her lips were silent. +She had gazed into heaven for one brief instant, +then her eyes dropped before a vision she dared no +longer to look upon. +</P> + +<P> +"Betty!" +</P> + +<P> +The man had lifted to his elbow again. A torrent +of passionate words rushed to his lips. But +they remained unspoken. His heavy tongue was +incapable of giving them expression. He halted. +That one feverish exclamation was all that came, +for his tongue clave in his mouth. But in that one +word was the avowal of such a love as rarely falls +to the lot of woman. It was the man's whole +being that spoke. +</P> + +<P> +Betty's hand twisted from his grasp. She sprang +to her feet and turned to the door. +</P> + +<P> +"It's Bob Mason," she said, in a voice that was +almost an awed whisper, as she rushed to the cook-stove. +</P> + +<P> +The camp-boss strode heavily into the room. +There was a light in his eyes that usually would +have gladdened the master of the mills. Now, +however, Dave's thoughts were far from the matters +of the camp. +</P> + +<P> +"We've travoyed a hundred to the river bank!" +the lumberman exclaimed in a tone of triumph. +"The work's begun!" +</P> + +<P> +It was Betty who answered him. Hers was the +ready sympathy, the heart to understand for others +equally with herself. She turned with a smile of +welcome, of pride in his pride. +</P> + +<P> +"Bob, you're a gem!" she cried, holding out a +hand of kindliness to him. +</P> + +<P> +And Dave's tardy words followed immediately +with characteristic sincerity. +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks, Bob," he said, in his deep tones. +</P> + +<P> +"It's all right, boss, they're working by flare to-night, +an' they're going on till ten o'clock." +</P> + +<P> +Dave nodded. His thoughts had once more +turned into the smooth channel of his affairs. +Betty was serving out supper. +</P> + +<P> +A few moments later, weary and depressed, the +parson came in for his supper. His report was +much the same as usual. Progress—all his patients +were progressing, but it was slow work, for the +recent battle had added to the number of his patients. +</P> + +<P> +There was very little talk until supper was over. +Then it began as Mason was preparing to depart +again to his work. Dave spoke of his decision +without any preamble. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, folks, I'm going back to Malkern to-night," +he said, with a smiling glance of humor at +his friends in anticipation of the storm of protest he +knew his announcement would bring upon himself. +</P> + +<P> +Mason was on his feet in an instant. +</P> + +<P> +"You can't do it, boss!" he exclaimed. +"You——" +</P> + +<P> +"No you don't, Dave, old friend," broke in +Chepstow, with a shake of his head. "You'll stay +right here till I say 'go.'" +</P> + +<P> +Dave's smile broadened, and his eyes sought +Betty's. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Betty?" he demanded. +</P> + +<P> +But Betty understood. +</P> + +<P> +"I have nothing to say," she replied quietly. +</P> + +<P> +Dave promptly turned again to the parson. His +smile had gone again. +</P> + +<P> +"I've got to go, Tom," he said. "My work's +done here, but it hasn't begun yet in Malkern. Do +you get my meaning? Until the cutting began up +here I was not needed down there. Now it is +different. There is no one in Malkern to head +things. Dawson and Odd are good men, but they +are only my—foremen. It is imperative that I go, +and—to-night." +</P> + +<P> +"But look here, boss, it can't be done," cried +Mason, with a sort of hopeless earnestness. "You +aren't fit to move yet. The journey down—you'd +never stand it. Besides——" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, besides, who's to take you down? How +are you going?" Chepstow broke in sharply. He +meant to clinch the matter once for all. +</P> + +<P> +Dave's manner returned to the peevishness of his +invalid state. +</P> + +<P> +"There's the buckboard," he said sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"Can you drive it?" demanded the parson with +equal sharpness. "I can't take you down. I can't +leave the sick. Mason is needed here. Well?" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't worry. I'm driving myself," Dave said +soberly. +</P> + +<P> +Chepstow sprang to his feet and waved his pipe +in the air in his angry impatience. +</P> + +<P> +"You're mad! You drive? Hang it, man, you +couldn't drive a team of fleas. Get up! Get up +from that stretcher now, and see how much driving +you could do. See here, Dave, I absolutely forbid +you to attempt any such thing." +</P> + +<P> +Dave raised himself upon his elbow. His steady +eyes had something of an angry smile in them. +</P> + +<P> +"See here, Tom," he said, imitating the other's +manner. "You can talk till you're black in the +face. I'm going down to-night. Mason's going to +hook the buckboard up for me and fetch Truscott +along. I'll have to take him down too. It's no +use in your kicking, Tom," he went on, as the +parson opened his lips for further protest, "I'm +going." He turned again to Mason. "I'll need +the buckboard and team in an hour. Guess you'll +see to it, boy. An' say, just set food for the two +of us in it, and half a sack of oats for the +horses——" +</P> + +<P> +"One moment, Bob," interrupted Betty. She +had been merely an interested listener to the discussion, +sitting at the far end of the supper table. +Now she came over to Dave's bedside. "You'd +best put in food for three." Then she looked down +at Dave, smiling reassurance. From him she +turned to her uncle with a laughing glance. +"Trust you men to argue and wrangle over +things that can be settled without the least difficulty. +Dave here must get down to Malkern. I +understand the importance of his presence there. +Very well, he must go. Therefore it's only a +question how he can get there with the least +possible danger to himself. It's plain Bob can't go +down. He must see the work through here. You, +uncle, must also stay. It is your duty to the sick. +We cannot send any of the men. They are all +needed. Well, I'm going to drive him down. +We'll make him comfortable in the carryall, and +Truscott can share the driving-seat with me—carefully +secured to prevent him getting away. There +you are. I will be responsible for Dave's welfare. +You need not be anxious." +</P> + +<P> +She turned with such a look of confident affection +upon the sick man, that, for the moment, no one +had a word of protest to offer. It was Dave who +spoke first. He took her hand in his and nodded +his great head at her. +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks, little Betty," he said. "I shall be +perfectly safe in your charge." +</P> + +<P> +And his words were ample reward to the woman +who loved him. It was his acknowledgment of +his dependence upon her. +</P> + +<P> +After that there was discussion, argument, protest +for nearly half an hour. But Dave and Betty +held to their decision, and, at last, Tom Chepstow +gave way to them. Then it was that Mason went +off to make preparations. The parson went to +assist him, and Betty and Dave were once more +alone. +</P> + +<P> +Betty let her uncle go and then lit the lamp. +For some moments no word was spoken between +the sick man and his nurse. The girl cleared the +supper things and put a kettle on the stove. Then, +while watching for it to boil, she was about to pack +up her few belongings for the journey. But she +changed her mind. Instead she came back to the +table and faced the stretcher on which the sick +man was lying. +</P> + +<P> +"Dave," she said, in a low voice, "will you +promise me something?" +</P> + +<P> +Dave turned his face toward her. +</P> + +<P> +"Anything," he said, in all seriousness. +</P> + +<P> +The girl waited. She was gauging the meaning +of his reply. In anybody else that answer could +not have been taken seriously. In him it might be +different. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a big thing," she said doubtfully. +</P> + +<P> +"It don't matter, little girl, I just mean it." +</P> + +<P> +She came slowly over to his side. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you remember, I once got you to teach me +the business of the mill? I wanted to learn then +so I could help some one. I want to help some +one now. But it's a different 'some one' this time. +Do you understand? I—I haven't forgotten a +single thing I learned from you. Will you let me +help you? You cannot do all now. Not until +your arm is better." She dropped upon her knees +at his bedside. "Dave, don't refuse me. You +shall just give your orders to me. I will see they +are carried out. We—you and I together—will +run your mills to the success that I know is going +to be yours. Don't say no, Dave—dear." +</P> + +<P> +The man had turned to her. He was looking +into the depths of the fearless brown eyes before +him. He had no intention of refusing her, but he +was looking, looking deep down into the beautiful, +woman's heart that was beating within her bosom. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll not refuse you, Betty. I only thank God +Almighty for such a little friend." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap31"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +AT MIDNIGHT +</H4> + +<P> +The silence of the night was unbroken. The +valley of the Red Sand River was wrapped in a +peace such as it had never known since Dave had +first brought into it the restless activity of his American +spirit. But it was a depressing peace to the +dwellers in the valley, for it portended disaster. +No word had reached them of the prospects at the +mill, only a vague rumor had spread of the doings +at the lumber camp. Dave knew the value of +silence in such matters, and he had taken care to +enforce silence on all who were in a position to +enlighten the minds which thirsted for such information. +</P> + +<P> +The people of Malkern were waiting, waiting for +something definite on the part of the master of the +mills. On him depended their future movements. +The mill was silent, even though the work of repairing +had been completed. But, as yet, they had +not lost faith in the man who had piloted them +through all the shoals of early struggles to the +haven of comparative prosperity. However, the +calm, the unwonted silence of the valley depressed +and worried them. They longed for the drone, +however monotonous, of the mill. They loved it, +for it meant that their wheels of life were well oiled, +and that they were driving pleasantly along their +set track to the terminal of success. +</P> + +<P> +Yet while the village slept all was intense activity +at the mills. The men had been gathered +together again, late that night, and the army of +workers was once more complete. The sawyers +were at their saws, oiling and fitting, and generally +making ready for work. The engineers were at +their engines, the firemen at their furnaces, the +lumber-jacks were at the shoots, and in the yards. +The boom was manned by men who sat around +smoking, peavey in hand, ready to handle the +mightiest "ninety-footers" that the mountain forests +could send them. The checkers were at their posts, +and the tally boys were "shooting craps" at the +foot of the shoots. The mill, like a resting giant +lying prone upon his back, was bursting with a +latent strength and activity that only needed the +controlling will to set in motion, to drive it to an +effort such as Malkern had never seen before, such +as, perhaps, Malkern would never see again. And +inside Dave's office, that Will lay watching and +waiting. +</P> + +<P> +It was a curious scene inside the office. The +place had been largely converted since the master +of the mills had returned. It was half sick room, +half office, and the feminine touch about the place +was quite incongruous in the office of such a man +as Dave. But then just now Dave's control was +only of the mill outside. In this room he yielded +to another authority. He was in the hands of +womenfolk; that is, his body was. He had no +word to say in the arrangement of the room, and +he was only permitted to think his control outside. +</P> + +<P> +It was eleven o'clock, and his mother was preparing +to take her departure. Since his return +from the camp she was her son's almost constant +attendant. Betty's chief concern was for the mill +outside, and the careful execution of the man's +orders to his foremen. She took a share of the +nursing, but only in moments of leisure, and these +were very few. Now she had just returned from +a final inspection and consultation with Dawson. +And the glow of satisfaction on her face was good +to see. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, mother dear," she said, after having made +her report to Dave, "you've got to be off home, +and to bed. You've had a long, hard day, and I'm +going to relieve you. Dave is all right, and," she +added with a smile, "maybe he'll be better still before +morning. We expect the logs down by daylight, +and then—I guess their arrival in the boom +will do more to mend his poor broken shoulder +than all our quacks and nostrums. So be off with +you. I shall be here all night. I don't intend to +rest till the first log enters the boom." +</P> + +<P> +The old woman rose wearily from her rocking-chair +at her boy's bedside. Her worn face was +tired. At her age the strain of nursing was very +heavy. But whatever weakness there was in her +body, her spirit was as strong as the younger +woman's. Her boy was sick, and nothing else +could compare with a disaster of that nature. But +now she was ready to go, for so it had been +arranged between them earlier. +</P> + +<P> +She crossed to Betty's side, and, placing her hands +upon the girl's shoulders, kissed her tenderly on both +cheeks. +</P> + +<P> +"God bless and keep you, dearie," she said, with +deep emotion. "I'd like to tell you all I feel, but +I can't. You're our guardian angel—Dave's and +mine. Good-night." +</P> + +<P> +"Good-night, mother dear," said the girl, her +eyes brightening with a suspicion of tears. Then, +with an assumption of lightness which helped to +disguise her real feelings, "Now don't you stay +awake. Go right off to sleep, and—in the morning +you shall hear—the mills!" +</P> + +<P> +The old woman nodded and smiled. Next to +her boy she loved this motherless girl best in the +world. She gathered up her few belongings and +went to the bedside. Bending over the sick man +she kissed his rugged face tenderly. For a moment +one great arm held her in its tremendous +embrace, then she toddled out of the room. +</P> + +<P> +Betty took her rocking-chair. She sat back and +rocked herself in silence for some moments. Her +eyes wandered over the curious little room, noting +the details of it as though hugging to herself the +memory of the smallest trifle that concerned this +wonderful time that was hers. +</P> + +<P> +There was Dave's desk before the window. It +was hers now. There were the vast tomes that +recorded his output of lumber. She had spent +hours over them calculating figures for the man +beside her. There were the flowers his mother had +brought, and which she had found time to arrange +so that he could see and enjoy them. There were +the bandages it was her duty to adjust. There +were the remains of the food of which they had +both partaken. +</P> + +<P> +It was all real, yet so strange. So strange to her +who had spent her life surrounded by all those duties +so essentially feminine, so closely allied to her +uncle's spiritual calling. She felt that she had +moved out into a new world, a world in which there +was room for her to expand, in which she could +bring into play all those faculties which she had always +known herself to possess, but which had so +long lain dormant that she had almost come to regard +her belief in their existence as a mere dream, +a mere vanity. +</P> + +<P> +It was a wonderful thing this, that had happened +to her, and the happiness of it was so overwhelming +that it almost made her afraid. Yet the fact remained. +She was working for him, she was working +with her muscles and brain extended. She +sighed, and, placing her hands behind her head, +stretched luxuriously. It was good to feel the +muscles straining, it was good to contemplate the +progress of things in his interests, it was good to +love, and to feel that that love was something more +practical than the mere sentimentality of awakened +passion. +</P> + +<P> +Her wandering attention was recalled by a movement +of her patient. She glanced round at him, +and his face was turned toward her. Her smiling +eyes responded to his steady, contemplative gaze. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" he said, in a grave, subdued voice, "it +ought to be getting near now?" +</P> + +<P> +The girl nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't see how we can tell exactly, but—unless +anything goes wrong the first logs should get +through before daylight. It's good to think of, +Dave." Her eyes sparkled with delight at the +prospect. +</P> + +<P> +The man eyed her for a few silent moments, and +his eyes deepened to a passionate warmth. +</P> + +<P> +"You're a great little woman, Betty," he said at +last. "When I think of all you have done for me—well, +I just feel that my life can never be long +enough to repay you in. Throughout this business +you have been my second self, with all the freshness +and enthusiasm of a mind and heart thrilling +with youthful strength. I can never forget the +journey down from the camp. When I think of +the awful physical strain you must have gone +through, driving day and night, with a prisoner beside +you, and a useless hulk of a man lying behind, +I marvel. When I think that you had to do everything, +feed us, camp for us, see to the horses for us, +it all seems like some fantastic dream. How did +you do it? How did I come to let you? It makes +me smile to think that I, in my manly superiority, +simply lolled about with a revolver handy to enforce +our prisoner's obedience to your orders. Ah, +little Betty, I can only thank Almighty God that I +have been blest with such a little—friend." +</P> + +<P> +The girl laid the tips of her fingers over his +mouth. +</P> + +<P> +"You mustn't say these things," she said, in a +thrilling voice. "We—you and I—are just here +together to work out your—your plans. God has +been very, very good to me that He has given me +the power, in however small a degree, to help you. +Now let us put these things from our minds for a +time and be—be practical. Talking of our prisoner, +what are you going to do with—poor Jim?" +</P> + +<P> +It was some moments before Dave answered her. +It was not that he had no answer to her question, +but her words had sent his mind wandering off +among long past days. He was thinking of the +young lad he had so ardently tried to befriend. +He was thinking of the "poor Jim" of then and +now. He was recalling that day when those two +had come to him with their secret, with their +youthful hope of the future, and of all that day had +meant to him. They had planned, he had planned, +and now it was all so—different. His inclination +was to show this man leniency, but his inclination +had no power to alter his resolve. +</P> + +<P> +When he spoke there was no resentment in his +tone against the man who had so cruelly tried to +ruin him, only a quiet decision. +</P> + +<P> +"I want you to tell Simon Odd to bring him +here," he said. Then he smiled. "I intend him to +spend the night with me. That is, until the first +log comes down the river." +</P> + +<P> +"What are you going to do?" +</P> + +<P> +The man's smile increased in tenderness. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't worry your little head about that, Betty," +he said. "There are things which must be said between +us. Things which only men can say to men. +I promise you he will be free to go when the mill +starts work—but not until then." His eyes grew +stern. "I owe you so much, Betty," he went on, +"that I must be frank with you. So much depends +upon our starting work again that I cannot let him +go until that happens." +</P> + +<P> +"And if—just supposing—that does not happen—I +mean, supposing, through his agency, the mill +remains idle?" +</P> + +<P> +"I cannot answer you. I have only one thing to +add." Dave had raised himself upon his elbow, +and his face was hard and set. "No man may +bring ruin upon a community to satisfy his own +mean desires, his revenge, however that revenge +may be justified. If we fail, if Malkern is to be +made to suffer through that man—God help him!" +</P> + +<P> +The girl was facing him now. Her two hands +were outstretched appealingly. +</P> + +<P> +"But, Dave, should you judge him? Have you +the right? Surely there is but one judge, and His +alone is the right to condemn weak, erring human +nature. Surely it is not for you—us." +</P> + +<P> +Dave dropped back upon his pillow. There was +no relenting in his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"His own work shall judge him," he said in a +hard voice. "What I may do is between him and +me." +</P> + +<P> +Betty looked at him long and earnestly. Then +she rose from her chair. +</P> + +<P> +"So be it, Dave. I ask you but one thing. +Deal with him as your heart prompts you, and not +as your head dictates. I will send him to you, and +will come back again—when the mill is at work." +</P> + +<P> +Their eyes met in one long ardent gaze. The +man nodded, and the smile in his eyes was very, +very tender. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Betty. Don't leave me too long—I can't +do without you now." +</P> + +<P> +The girl's eyes dropped before the light she beheld +in his. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't want you to—do without me," she murmured. +And she hurried out of the room. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap32"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +TWO MEN—AND A WOMAN +</H4> + +<P> +It took some time for Betty to carry out Dave's +wishes. Simon Odd, who was Jim Truscott's jailer +while the mills were idle, and who had him secreted +away where curious eyes were not likely to discover +him, was closely occupied with the preparations at +the other mill. She had to dispatch a messenger +to him, and the messenger having found Simon, it +was necessary for the latter to procure his prisoner +and hand him over to Dave himself. All this took +a long time, nearly an hour and a half, which made +it two o'clock in the morning before Truscott reached +the office under his escort. +</P> + +<P> +Odd presented him with scant ceremony. He +knocked on the door, was admitted, and stood close +behind his charge's shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"Here he is, boss," said the man with rough +freedom. "Will I stand by in case he gits gay?" +</P> + +<P> +But Dave had his own ideas. He needed no help +from anybody in dealing with this man. +</P> + +<P> +"No," he said at once. "You can get back to +your mill. I relieve you of all further responsibility +of your—charge. But you can pass me some things +to prop my pillow up before you go." +</P> + +<P> +The giant foreman did as he was bid. Being just +a plain lumberman, with no great nicety of fancy +he selected three of the ledgers for the purpose. +Having propped his employer into a sitting posture, +he took his departure in silence. +</P> + +<P> +Dave waited until the door closed behind him. +His cold eyes were on the man who had so nearly +ruined him, who, indirectly, had nearly cost him his +life. As the door closed he drew his right hand +from under the blankets, and in it was a revolver. +He laid the weapon on the blanket, and his fingers +rested on the butt. +</P> + +<P> +Jim Truscott watched his movements, but his +gaze was more mechanical than one of active interest. +What his thoughts were at the moment it would +have been hard to say, except that they were neither +easy nor pleasant, if one judged from the lowering +expression of his weak face. The active hatred +which he had recently displayed in Dave's presence +seemed to be lacking now. It almost seemed as +though the rough handling he had been treated to, +the failure of his schemes for Dave's ruin, had dulled +the edge of his vicious antagonism. It was as +though he were indifferent to the object of the +meeting, to its outcome. He did not even seem to +appreciate the significance of the presence of that +gun under Dave's fingers. +</P> + +<P> +His attitude was that of a man beaten in the fight +where all the odds had seemed in his favor. His +mind was gazing back upon the scene of his disaster +as though trying to discover the joint in the armor +of his attack which had rendered him vulnerable and +brought about his defeat. +</P> + +<P> +Dave understood something of this. His understanding +was more the result of his knowledge of a +character he had studied long ago, before the vicious +life the man had since lived had clouded the ingenuous +impulses of a naturally weak but happy +nature. He did not fathom the man's thoughts, he +did not even guess at them. He only knew the +character, and the rest was like reading from an +open book. In his heart he was more sorry for +him than he would have dared to admit, but his +mind was thinking of all the suffering the mischief +of this one man had caused, might yet cause. Betty +had displayed a wonderful wisdom when she bade +him let his heart govern his judgment in dealing +with this man. +</P> + +<P> +"You'd best sit down—Jim," Dave said. Already +his heart was defying his head. That use of a familiar +first name betrayed him. "It may be a long +sitting. You're going to stay right here with me +until the mill starts up work. I don't know how +long that'll be." +</P> + +<P> +Truscott made no answer. He showed he had +heard and understood by glancing round for a chair. +In this quest his eyes rested for a moment on the +closed door. They passed on to the chair at the +desk. Then they returned to the door again. Dave +saw the glance and spoke sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"You'd best sit, boy. That door is closed—to +you. And I'm here to keep it closed—to you." +</P> + +<P> +Still the man made no reply. He turned slowly +toward the chair at the desk and sat down. His +whole attitude expressed weariness. It was the +dejected weariness of a brain overcome by hopelessness. +</P> + +<P> +Watching him, Dave's mind reverted to Betty in +association with him. He wondered at the nature +of this man's regard for her, a regard which was his +excuse for the villainies he had planned and carried +out against him, and the mills. His thoughts went +back to the day of their boy and girl engagement, +as he called it now. He remembered the eager, +impulsive lover, weak, selfish, but full of passion and +youthful protestations. He thought of his decision +to go away, and the manner of it. He remembered +it was Betty who finally decided for them both. +And her decision was against his more selfish desires, +but one that opened out for him the opportunity +of showing himself to be the man she thought +him. Yes, this man had been too young, too weak, +too self-indulgent. There lay the trouble of his life. +His love for Betty, if it could be called by so pure a +name, had been a mere self-indulgence, a passionate +desire of the moment that swept every other consideration +out of its path. There was not that +underlying strength needed for its support. Was +he wholly to blame? Dave thought not. +</P> + +<P> +Then there was that going to the Yukon. He +had protested at the boy's decision. He had known +from the first that his character had not the strength +to face the pitiless breath of that land of snowy +desolation. How could one so weak pit himself +against the cruel forces of nature such as are to be +found in that land? It was impossible. The inevitable +had resulted. He had fallen to the temptations +of the easier paths of vice in Dawson, and, +lost in that whirl, Betty was forgotten. His passion +died down, satiated in the filthy dives of Dawson. +Then had come his return to Malkern. Stinking +with the contamination of his vices, he had returned +caring for nothing but himself. He had once more +encountered Betty. The pure fresh beauty of the +girl had promptly set his vitiated soul on fire. But +now there was no love, not even a love such as had +been his before, but only a mad desire, a desire as +uncontrolled as the wind-swept rollers of a raging +sea. It was the culminating evil of a manhood debased +by a long period of loose, vicious living. +She must be his at any cost, and opposition only +fired his desire the more, and drove him to any +length to attain his end. The pity of it! A spirit, +a bright buoyant spirit lost in the mad whirl of a +nature it had not been given him the power to control. +His heart was full of a sorrowful regret. His +heart bled for the man, while his mind condemned +his ruthless actions. +</P> + +<P> +He lay watching in a silence that made the room +seem heavy and oppressive. As yet he had no +words for the man who had come so nearly to ruining +him. He had not brought him there to preach +to him, to blame him, to twit him with the failure +of his evil plans, the failure he had made of a life +that had promised so much. He held him there +that he might settle his reckoning with him, once +and for all, in a manner which should shut him out +of his life forever. He intended to perform an action +the contemplation of which increased the sorrow +he felt an hundredfold, but one which he was +fully determined upon as being the only course, in +justice to Betty, to Malkern, to himself, possible. +</P> + +<P> +The moments ticked heavily away. Truscott +made no move. He gave not the slightest sign of +desiring to speak. His eyes scarcely heeded his +surroundings. It was almost as if he had no care +for what this man who held him in his power intended +to do. It almost seemed as though the +weight of his failure had crushed the spirit within +him, as though a dreary lassitude had settled itself +upon him, and he had no longer a thought for the +future. +</P> + +<P> +Once during that long silence he lifted his large +bloodshot eyes, and his gaze encountered the other's +steady regard. They dropped almost at once, but +in that fleeting glance Dave read the smouldering +fire of hate which still burned deep down in his heart. +The sight of it had no effect. The man's face alone +interested him. It looked years older, it bore a +tracery of lines about the eyes and mouth, which, +at his age, it had no right to possess. His hair, too, +was already graying amongst the curls that had always +been one of his chief physical attractions. It +was thinning, too, a premature thinning at the temples, +which also had nothing to do with his age. +</P> + +<P> +Later, again, the man's eyes turned upon the door +with a calculating gaze. They came back to the +bed where Dave was lying. The movement was +unmistakable. Dave's fingers tightened on the butt +of his revolver, and his great head was moved in a +negative shake, and the ominous shining muzzle of +his revolver said plainly, "Don't!" Truscott seemed +to understand, for he made no movement, nor did +he again glance at the door. +</P> + +<P> +It was a strange scene. It was almost appalling +in its significant silence. What feelings were passing, +what thoughts, no one could tell from the faces +of the two men. That each was living through a +small world of recollection, mostly bitter, perhaps +regretful, there could be no doubt, yet neither gave +any sign. They were both waiting. In the mind +of one it was a waiting for what he could not even +guess at, in the other it was for something for which +he longed yet feared might not come. +</P> + +<P> +The hands of the clock moved on, but neither +heeded them. Time meant nothing to them now. +An hour passed. An hour and a half. Two hours +of dreadful silence. That vigil seemed endless, and +its silence appalling. +</P> + +<P> +Then suddenly a sound reached the waiting ears. +It was a fierce hissing, like an escape of steam. It +grew louder, and into the hiss came a hoarse tone, +like a harsh voice trying to bellow through +the rushing steam. It grew louder and louder. +The voice rose to a long-drawn "hoot," which must +have been heard far down the wide spread of the +Red Sand Valley. It struck deep into Dave's heart, +and loosed in it such a joy as rarely comes to the +heart of man. It was the steam siren of the mill +belching out its message to a sleeping village. The +master of the mills had triumphed over every obstacle. +The mill had once more started work. +</P> + +<P> +Dave waited until the last echo of that welcome +voice had died out. Then, as his ears drank in the +welcome song of his saws, plunging their jagged +fangs into the newly-arrived logs, he was content. +</P> + +<P> +He turned to the man in the chair. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you hear that, Jim? D'you know what it +means?" he asked, in a voice softened by the emotion +of the moment. +</P> + +<P> +Truscott's eyes lifted. But he made no answer. +The light in them was ugly. He knew. +</P> + +<P> +"It means that you are free to go," Dave went +on. "It means that my contract will be successfully +completed within the time limit. It means +that you will leave this village at once and never +return, or the penitentiary awaits you for the wrecking +of my mills." +</P> + +<P> +Truscott rose from his seat. The hate in his +heart was stirring. It was rising to his head. The +fury of his eyes was appalling. Dave saw it. He +shifted his gun and gripped it tightly. +</P> + +<P> +"Wait a bit, lad," he said coldly. "It means more +than all that to you. A good deal more. Can you +guess it? It means that I—and not you—am going +to marry Betty Somers." +</P> + +<P> +"God!" +</P> + +<P> +The man was hit as Dave had meant him to be +hit. He started, and his clenched hand went up as +though about to strike. The devil in his eyes was +appalling. +</P> + +<P> +"Now go! Quick!" +</P> + +<P> +The word leaped from the lumberman's lips, and +his gun went up threateningly. For a moment it +seemed as though Truscott was about to spring +upon him, regardless of the weapon's shining muzzle. +But he did not move. A gun in Dave's hand +was no idle threat, and he knew it. Besides he had +not the moral strength of the other. +</P> + +<P> +He moved to the door and opened it. Then for +one fleeting second he looked back. It may have +been to reassure himself that the gun was still there, +it may have been a last expression of his hate. +Another moment and he was gone. Dave replaced +his gun beneath the blankets and sighed. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Betty sprang into the room. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello, door open?" she demanded, glancing +about her suspiciously. Then her sparkling eyes +came back to the injured man. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you hear, Dave?" she cried, in an ecstasy +of excitement. "Did you hear the siren! I pulled +and held the valve cord! Did you hear it! Thank +God!" +</P> + +<P> +Dave's happy smile was sufficient for the girl. +Had he heard it? His heart was still ringing with +its echoes. +</P> + +<P> +"Betty, come here," he commanded. "Help me +up." +</P> + +<P> +"Why——" +</P> + +<P> +"Help me up, dear," the man begged. "I must +get up. I must get to the door. Don't you understand, +child—I must see." +</P> + +<P> +"But you can't go out, Dave!" +</P> + +<P> +"I know. I know. Only to the door. But—I +must see." +</P> + +<P> +The girl came over to his bedside. She lifted +him with a great effort. He sat up. Then he +swung his feet off the bed. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, little girl, help me." +</P> + +<P> +It felt good to him to enforce his will upon Betty +in this way. And the girl obeyed him with all her +strength, with all her heart stirred at his evident +weakness. +</P> + +<P> +He stood leaning on her shakily. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, little Betty," he said, breathing heavily, +"take me to the door." +</P> + +<P> +He placed his sound arm round her shoulders. +He even leaned more heavily upon her than was +necessary. It was good to lean on her. He liked +to feel her soft round shoulders under his arm. +Then, too, he could look down upon the masses of +warm brown hair which crowned her head. To +him his weakness was nothing in the joy of that +moment, in the joy of his contact with her. +</P> + +<P> +They moved slowly toward the door; he made +the pace slower than necessary. To him they were +delicious moments. To Betty—she did not know +what she felt as her arm encircled his great waist, +and all her woman's strength and love was extended +to him. +</P> + +<P> +At the door they paused. They stared out into +the yards. The great mills loomed up in the ruddy +flare light. It was a dark, shadowy scene in that +inadequate light. The steady shriek of the saws +filled the air. The grinding of machinery droned +forth, broken by the pulsing throb of great shafts +and moving beams. Men were hurrying to and +fro, dim figures full of life and intent upon the +labors so long suspended. They could see the +trimmed logs sliding down the shoots, they could +hear the grind of the rollers, they could hear the +shoutings of "checkers"; and beyond they could +see the glowing reflection of the waste fire. +</P> + +<P> +It was a sight that thrilled them both. It was a +sight that filled their hearts with thanks to God. +Each knew that it meant—Success. +</P> + +<P> +Dave turned from the sight, and his eyes looked +down upon the slight figure at his side. Betty +looked up into his face. Her eyes were misty with +tears of joy. Suddenly she dropped her eyes and +looked again at the scene before them. Her heart +was beating wildly. Her arm supporting the man +at her side was shaking, nor was it with weariness +of her task. She felt that it could never tire of +that. Dave's deep voice, so gentle, yet so full of +the depth and strength of his nature, was speaking. +</P> + +<P> +"It's good, Betty. It's good. We've won out—you +and I." +</P> + +<P> +Her lips moved to protest at the part she had +played, but he silenced her. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, you and I," he said softly. "It's all ours—yours +and mine. You'll share it with me?" The +girl's supporting arm moved convulsively. "No, +no," he went on quickly. "Don't take your arm +away. I need—I need its support. Betty—little +Betty—I need more than that. I need your support +always. Say, dear, you'll give it me. You +won't leave me alone now? Betty—Betty, I love +you—so—so almighty badly." +</P> + +<P> +The girl moved her head as though to avoid his +kisses upon her hair. Somehow her face was lifted +in doing so, and they fell at once upon her lips +instead. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<HR> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t1"> +Popular Copyright Books +</P> + +<P CLASS="t2"> +AT MODERATE PRICES +</P> + +<P CLASS="t3"> +Ask your dealer for a complete list of<BR> +A. L. Burt Company's Popular Copyright Fiction. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +<b>Abner Daniel.</b> By Will N. Harben.<BR> +<b>Adventures of A Modest Man.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.<BR> +<b>Adventures of Gerard.</b> By A. Conan Doyle.<BR> +<b>Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.</b> By A. Conan Doyle.<BR> +<b>Ailsa Page.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.<BR> +<b>Alternative, The.</b> By George Barr McCutcheon.<BR> +<b>Ancient Law, The.</b> By Ellen Glasgow.<BR> +<b>Angel of Forgiveness, The.</b> By Rosa N. Carey.<BR> +<b>Angel of Pain, The.</b> By E. F. Benson.<BR> +<b>Annals of Ann, The.</b> By Kate Trimble Sharber.<BR> +<b>Anna the Adventuress.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.<BR> +<b>Ann Boyd.</b> By Will N. Harben.<BR> +<b>As the Sparks Fly Upward.</b> By Cyrus Townsend Brady.<BR> +<b>At the Age of Eve.</b> By Kate Trimble Sharber.<BR> +<b>At the Mercy of Tiberius.</b> By Augusta Evans Wilson.<BR> +<b>At the Moorings.</b> By Rosa N. Carey.<BR> +<b>Awakening of Helen Richie, The.</b> By Margaret Deland.<BR> +<b>Barrier, The.</b> By Rex Beach.<BR> +<b>Bar 20.</b> By Clarence E. Mulford.<BR> +<b>Bar-20 Days.</b> By Clarence E. Mulford.<BR> +<b>Battle Ground, The.</b> By Ellen Glasgow.<BR> +<b>Beau Brocade.</b> By Baroness Orczy.<BR> +<b>Beechy.</b> By Bettina von Hutten.<BR> +<b>Bella Donna.</b> By Robert Hichens.<BR> +<b>Beloved Vagabond, The.</b> By William J. Locke.<BR> +<b>Ben Blair.</b> By Will Lillibridge.<BR> +<b>Best Man, The.</b> By Harold McGrath.<BR> +<b>Beth Norvell.</b> By Randall Parrish.<BR> +<b>Betrayal, The.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.<BR> +<b>Better Man, The.</b> By Cyrus Townsend Brady.<BR> +<b>Beulah.</b> (Illustrated Edition.) By Augusta J. Evans.<BR> +<b>Bill Toppers, The.</b> By Andre Castaigne.<BR> +<b>Blaze Derringer.</b> By Eugene P. Lyle, Jr.<BR> +<b>Bob Hampton of Placer.</b> By Randall Parrish.<BR> +<b>Bob, Son of Battle.</b> By Alfred Ollivant.<BR> +<b>Brass Bowl, The.</b> By Louis Joseph Vance.<BR> +<b>Bronze Bell, The.</b> By Louis Joseph Vance.<BR> +<b>Butterfly Man, The.</b> By George Barr McCutcheon.<BR> +<b>By Right of Purchase..</b> By Harold Bindloss.<BR> +<b>Cab No. 44.</b> By R. F. Foster.<BR> +<b>Calling of Dan Matthews, The.</b> By Harold Bell Wright.<BR> +<b>Call of the Blood, The.</b> By Robert Hichens.<BR> +<b>Cape Cod Stories.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.<BR> +<b>Cap'n Eri.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.<BR> +<b>Captain Warren's Wards.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.<BR> +<b>Caravaners, The.</b> By the author of "Elizabeth and Her German Garden."<BR> +<b>Cardigan.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.<BR> +<b>Carlton Case, The.</b> By Ellery H. Clark.<BR> +<b>Car of Destiny, The.</b> By C. N. and A. M. Williamson.<BR> +<b>Carpet From Bagdad, The.</b> By Harold MacGrath.<BR> +<b>Cash Intrigue, The.</b> By George Randolph Chester.<BR> +<b>Casting Away of Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine.</b> Frank S. Stockton.<BR> +<b>Castle by the Sea, The.</b> By H. B. Marriot Watson.<BR> +<b>Challoners, The.</b> By E. F. Benson.<BR> +<b>Chaperon, The.</b> By C. N. and A. M. Williamson.<BR> +<b>Circle, The.</b> By Katherine Cecil Thurston (author of "The Masquerader," "The Gambler.")<BR> +<b>Colonial Free Lance, A </b> By Chauncey C. Hotchkiss.<BR> +<b>Conquest of Canaan, The.</b> By Booth Tarkington.<BR> +<b>Conspirators, The.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.<BR> +<b>Cynthia of the Minute.</b> By Louis Joseph Vance.<BR> +<b>Dan Merrithew.</b> By Lawrence Perry.<BR> +<b>Day of the Dog, The.</b> By George Barr McCutcheon.<BR> +<b>Depot Master, The.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.<BR> +<b>Derelicts.</b> By William J. Locke.<BR> +<b>Diamond Master, The.</b> By Jacques Futrelle.<BR> +<b>Diamonds Cut Paste.</b> By Agnes and Egerton Castle.<BR> +<b>Divine Fire, The.</b> By May Sinclair.<BR> +<b>Dixie Hart.</b> By Will N. Harben.<BR> +<b>Dr. David.</b> By Marjorie Benton Cooke.<BR> +<b>Early Bird, The.</b> By George Randolph Chester.<BR> +<b>Eleventh Hour, The.</b> By David Potter.<BR> +<b>Elizabeth in Rugen.</b> (By the author of "Elizabeth and Her German Garden.")<BR> +<b>Elusive Isabel.</b> By Jacques Futrelle.<BR> +<b>Elusive Pimpernel, The.</b> By Baroness Orczy.<BR> +<b>Enchanted Hat, The.</b> By Harold McGrath.<BR> +<b>Excuse Me.</b> By Rupert Hughes.<BR> +<b>54-40 or Fight.</b> By Emerson Hough.<BR> +<b>Fighting Chance, The.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.<BR> +<b>Flamsted Quarries.</b> By Mary E. Waller.<BR> +<b>Flying Mercury, The.</b> By Eleanor M. Ingram.<BR> +<b>For a Maiden Brave.</b> By Chauncey C. Hotchkiss.<BR> +<b>Four Million, The.</b> By O. Henry.<BR> +<b>Four Pool's Mystery, The.</b> By Jean Webster.<BR> +<b>Fruitful Vine, The.</b> By Robert Hichens.<BR> +<b>Ganton & Co.</b> By Arthur J. Eddy.<BR> +<b>Gentleman of France, A.</b> By Stanley Weyman.<BR> +<b>Gentleman, The.</b> By Alfred Ollivant.<BR> +<b>Get-Rick-Quick-Wallingford.</b> By George Randolph Chester.<BR> +<b>Gilbert Neal.</b> By Will N. Harben.<BR> +<b>Girl and the Bill, The.</b> By Bannister Merwin.<BR> +<b>Girl from His Town, The.</b> By Marie Van Vorst.<BR> +<b>Girl Who Won, The.</b> By Beth Ellis.<BR> +<b>Glory of Clementina, The.</b> By William J. Locke.<BR> +<b>Glory of the Conquered, The.</b> By Susan Glaspell.<BR> +<b>God's Good Man.</b> By Marie Corelli.<BR> +<b>Going Some.</b> By Rex Beach.<BR> +<b>Golden Web, The.</b> By Anthony Partridge.<BR> +<b>Green Patch, The.</b> By Bettina von Hutten.<BR> +<b>Happy Island</b> (sequel to "Uncle William"). By Jennette Lee.<BR> +<b>Hearts and the Highway.</b> By Cyrus Townsend Brady.<BR> +<b>Held for Orders.</b> By Frank H. Spearman.<BR> +<b>Hidden Water.</b> By Dane Coolidge.<BR> +<b>Highway of Fate. The.</b> By Rosa N. Carey.<BR> +<b>Homesteaders. The.</b> By Kate and Virgil D. Boyles.<BR> +<b>Honor of the Big Snows, The.</b> By James Oliver Curwood.<BR> +<b>Hopalong Cassidy.</b> By Clarence E. Mulford.<BR> +<b>Household of Peter, The.</b> By Rosa N. Carey.<BR> +<b>House of Mystery, The.</b> By Will Irwin.<BR> +<b>House of the Lost Court, The.</b> By C. N. Williamson.<BR> +<b>House of the Whispering Pines, The.</b> By Anna Katharine Green.<BR> +<b>House on Cherry Street, The.</b> By Amelia E. Barr.<BR> +<b>How Leslie Loved.</b> By Anne Warner.<BR> +<b>Husbands of Edith, The.</b> By George Barr McCutcheon.<BR> +<b>Idols.</b> By William J. Locke.<BR> +<b>Illustrious Prince, The.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.<BR> +<b>Imprudence of Prue, The.</b> By Sophie Fisher.<BR> +<b>Inez.</b> (Illustrated Edition.) By Augusta J. Evans.<BR> +<b>Infelice.</b> By Augusta Evans Wilson.<BR> +<b>Initials Only.</b> By Anna Katharine Green.<BR> +<b>In Defiance of the King.</b> By Chauncey C. Hotchkiss.<BR> +<b>Indifference of Juliet, The.</b> By Grace S. Richmond.<BR> +<b>In the Service of the Princess.</b> By Henry C. Rowland.<BR> +<b>Iron Woman, The.</b> By Margaret Deland.<BR> +<b>Ishmael.</b> (Illustrated.) By Mrs. Southworth.<BR> +<b>Island of Regeneration, The.</b> By Cyrus Townsend Brady.<BR> +<b>Jack Spurlock, Prodigal.</b> By Horace Lorimer.<BR> +<b>Jane Cable.</b> By George Barr McCutcheon.<BR> +<b>Jeanne of the Marshes.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.<BR> +<b>Jude the Obscure.</b> By Thomas Hardy.<BR> +<b>Keith of the Border.</b> By Randall Parrish.<BR> +<b>Key to the Unknown, The.</b> By Rosa N. Carey.<BR> +<b>Kingdom of Earth, The.</b> By Anthony Partridge.<BR> +<b>King Spruce.</b> By Holman Day.<BR> +<b>Ladder of Swords, A.</b> By Gilbert Parker.<BR> +<b>Lady Betty Across the Water.</b> By C. N. and A. M. Williamson.<BR> +<b>Lady Merton, Colonist.</b> By Mrs. Humphrey Ward.<BR> +<b>Lady of Big Shanty, The.</b> By Berkeley F. Smith.<BR> +<b>Langford of the Three Bars.</b> By Kate and Virgil D. Boyles.<BR> +<b>Land of Long Ago, The.</b> By Eliza Calvert Hall.<BR> +<b>Lane That Had No Turning, The.</b> By Gilbert Parker.<BR> +<b>Last Trail, The.</b> By Zane Grey.<BR> +<b>Last Voyage of the Donna Isabel, The.</b> By Randall Parrish.<BR> +<b>Leavenworth Case, The.</b> By Anna Katharine Green.<BR> +<b>Lin McLean.</b> By Owen Wister.<BR> +<b>Little Brown Jug at Kildare, The.</b> By Meredith Nicholson.<BR> +<b>Loaded Dice.</b> By Ellery H. Clarke.<BR> +<b>Lord Loveland Discovers America.</b> By C. N. and A. M. Williamson.<BR> +<b>Lorimer of the Northwest.</b> By Harold Bindloss.<BR> +<b>Lorraine.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.<BR> +<b>Lost Ambassador, The.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.<BR> +<b>Love Under Fire.</b> By Randall Parrish.<BR> +<b>Loves of Miss Anne, The.</b> By S. R. Crockett.<BR> +<b>Macaria.</b> (Illustrated Edition.) By Augusta J. Evans.<BR> +<b>Mademoiselle Celeste.</b> By Adele Ferguson Knight.<BR> +<b>Maid at Arms, The.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.<BR> +<b>Maid of Old New York, A.</b> By Amelia E. Barr.<BR> +<b>Maid of the Whispering Hills, The.</b> By Vingie Roe.<BR> +<b>Maids of Paradise, The.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.<BR> +<b>Making of Bobby Burnit, The.</b> By George Randolph Chester.<BR> +<b>Mam' Linda.</b> By Will N. Harben.<BR> +<b>Man Outside, The.</b> By Wyndham Martyn.<BR> +<b>Man In the Brown Derby, The.</b> By Wells Hastings.<BR> +<b>Marriage a la Mode.</b> By Mrs. Humphrey Ward.<BR> +<b>Marriage of Theodora, The.</b> By Molly Elliott Seawell.<BR> +<b>Marriage Under the Terror, A.</b> By Patricia Wentworth.<BR> +<b>Master Mummer, The.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.<BR> +<b>Masters of the Wheatlands.</b> By Harold Bindloss.<BR> +<b>Max.</b> By Katherine Cecil Thurston.<BR> +<b>Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes.</b> By A. Conan Doyle.<BR> +<b>Millionaire Baby, The.</b> By Anna Katharine Green.<BR> +<b>Missioner, The.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.<BR> +<b>Miss Selina Lue.</b> By Maria Thompson Daviess.<BR> +<b>Mistress of Brae Farm, The.</b> By Rosa N. Carey.<BR> +<b>Money Moon, The.</b> By Jeffery Farnol.<BR> +<b>Motor Maid, The.</b> By C. N. and A. M. Williamson.<BR> +<b>Much Ado About Peter.</b> By Jean Webster.<BR> +<b>Mr. Pratt.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.<BR> +<b>My Brother's Keeper.</b> By Charles Tenny Jackson.<BR> +<b>My Friend the Chauffeur.</b> By C. N. and A. M. Williamson<BR> +<b>My Lady Caprice</b> (author of the "Broad Highway"). Jeffery Farnol.<BR> +<b>My Lady of Doubt.</b> By Randall Parrish.<BR> +<b>My Lady of the North.</b> By Randall Parrish.<BR> +<b>My Lady of the South.</b> By Randall Parrish.<BR> +<b>Mystery Tales.</b> By Edgar Allen Poe.<BR> +<b>Nancy Stair.</b> By Elinor Macartney Lane.<BR> +<b>Ne'er-Do-Well, The.</b> By Rex Beach.<BR> +<b>No Friend Like a Sister.</b> By Rosa N. Carey.<BR> +<b>Officer 666.</b> By Barton W. Currie and Augustin McHugh.<BR> +<b>One Braver Thing.</b> By Richard Dehan.<BR> +<b>Order No. 11.</b> By Caroline Abbot Stanley.<BR> +<b>Orphan, The.</b> By Clarence E. Mulford.<BR> +<b>Out of the Primitive.</b> By Robert Ames Bennett.<BR> +<b>Pam.</b> By Bettina von Hutten.<BR> +<b>Pam Decides.</b> By Bettina von Hutten.<BR> +<b>Pardners.</b> By Rex Beach.<BR> +<b>Partners of the Tide.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.<BR> +<b>Passage Perilous, The.</b> By Rosa N. Carey.<BR> +<b>Passers By.</b> By Anthony Partridge.<BR> +<b>Paternoster Ruby, The.</b> By Charles Edmonds Walk.<BR> +<b>Patience of John Moreland, The.</b> By Mary Dillon.<BR> +<b>Paul Anthony, Christian.</b> By Hiram W. Hays.<BR> +<b>Phillip Steele.</b> By James Oliver Curwood.<BR> +<b>Phra the Phoenician.</b> By Edwin Lester Arnold.<BR> +<b>Plunderer, The.</b> By Roy Norton.<BR> +<b>Pole Baker.</b> By Will N. Harben.<BR> +<b>Politician, The.</b> By Edith Huntington Mason.<BR> +<b>Polly of the Circus.</b> By Margaret Mayo.<BR> +<b>Pool of Flame, The.</b> By Louis Joseph Vance.<BR> +<b>Poppy.</b> By Cynthia Stockley.<BR> +<b>Power and the Glory, The.</b> By Grace McGowan Cooke.<BR> +<b>Price of the Prairie, The.</b> By Margaret Hill McCarter.<BR> +<b>Prince of Sinners, A.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.<BR> +<b>Prince or Chauffeur.</b> By Lawrence Perry.<BR> +<b>Princess Dehra, The.</b> By John Reed Scott.<BR> +<b>Princess Passes, The.</b> By C. N. and A. M. Williamson.<BR> +<b>Princess Virginia, The.</b> By C. N. and A. M. Williamson.<BR> +<b>Prisoners of Chance.</b> By Randall Parrish.<BR> +<b>Prodigal Son, The.</b> By Hall Caine.<BR> +<b>Purple Parasol, The.</b> By George Barr McCutcheon.<BR> +<b>Reconstructed Marriage, A.</b> By Amelia Barr.<BR> +<b>Redemption of Kenneth Galt, The.</b> By Will N. Harben.<BR> +<b>Red House on Rowan Street.</b> By Roman Doubleday.<BR> +<b>Red Mouse, The.</b> By William Hamilton Osborne.<BR> +<b>Red Pepper Burns.</b> By Grace S. Richmond.<BR> +<b>Refugees, The.</b> By A. Conan Doyle.<BR> +<b>Rejuvenation of Aunt Mary, The.</b> By Anne Warner.<BR> +<b>Road to Providence, The.</b> By Maria Thompson Daviess.<BR> +<b>Romance of a Plain Man, The.</b> By Ellen Glasgow.<BR> +<b>Rose in the Ring, The.</b> By George Barr McCutcheon.<BR> +<b>Rose of Old Harpeth, The.</b> By Maria Thompson Daviess.<BR> +<b>Rose of the World.</b> By Agnes and Egerton Castle.<BR> +<b>Round the Corner in Gay Street.</b> By Grace S. Richmond.<BR> +<b>Routledge Rides Alone.</b> By Will Livingston Comfort.<BR> +<b>Running Fight, The.</b> By Wm. Hamilton Osborne.<BR> +<b>Seats of the Mighty, The.</b> By Gilbert Parker.<BR> +<b>Septimus.</b> By William J. Locke.<BR> +<b>Set In Silver.</b> By C. N. and A. M. Williamson.<BR> +<b>Self-Raised.</b> (Illustrated.) By Mrs. Southworth.<BR> +<b>Shepherd of the Hills, The.</b> By Harold Bell Wright.<BR> +<b>Sheriff of Dyke Hole, The.</b> By Ridgwell Cullum.<BR> +<b>Sidney Carteret, Rancher.</b> By Harold Bindloss.<BR> +<b>Simon the Jester.</b> By William J. Locke.<BR> +<b>Silver Blade, The.</b> By Charles E. Walk.<BR> +<b>Silver Horde, The.</b> By Rex Beach.<BR> +<b>Sir Nigel.</b> By A. Conan Doyle.<BR> +<b>Sir Richard Calmady.</b> By Lucas Malet.<BR> +<b>Skyman, The.</b> By Henry Ketchell Webster.<BR> +<b>Slim Princess, The.</b> By George Ade.<BR> +<b>Speckled Bird, A.</b> By Augusta Evans Wilson.<BR> +<b>Spirit In Prison, A.</b> By Robert Hichens.<BR> +<b>Spirit of the Border, The.</b> By Zane Grey.<BR> +<b>Spirit Trail, The.</b> By Kate and Virgil D. Boyles.<BR> +<b>Spoilers, The.</b> By Rex Beach.<BR> +<b>Stanton Wins.</b> By Eleanor M. Ingram.<BR> +<b>St. Elmo.</b> (Illustrated Edition.) By Augusta J. Evans.<BR> +<b>Stolen Singer, The.</b> By Martha Bellinger.<BR> +<b>Stooping Lady, The.</b> By Maurice Hewlett.<BR> +<b>Story of the Outlaw, The.</b> By Emerson Hough.<BR> +<b>Strawberry Acres.</b> By Grace S. Richmond.<BR> +<b>Strawberry Handkerchief, The.</b> By Amelia E. Barr.<BR> +<b>Sunnyside of the Hill, The.</b> By Rosa N. Carey.<BR> +<b>Sunset Trail, The.</b> By Alfred Henry Lewis.<BR> +<b>Susan Clegg and Her Friend Mrs. Lathrop.</b> By Anne Warner.<BR> +<b>Sword of the Old Frontier, A.</b> By Randall Parrish.<BR> +<b>Tales of Sherlock Holmes.</b> By A. Conan Doyle.<BR> +<b>Tennessee Shad, The.</b> By Owen Johnson.<BR> +<b>Tess of the D'Urbervilles.</b> By Thomas Hardy.<BR> +<b>Texican, The.</b> By Dane Coolidge.<BR> +<b>That Printer of Udell's.</b> By Harold Bell Wright.<BR> +<b>Three Brothers, The.</b> By Eden Phillpotts.<BR> +<b>Throwback, The.</b> By Alfred Henry Lewis.<BR> +<b>Thurston of Orchard Valley.</b> By Harold Bindloss.<BR> +<b>Title Market, The.</b> By Emily Post.<BR> +<b>Torn Sails. A Tale of a Welsh Village.</b> By Allen Raine.<BR> +<b>Trail of the Axe, The.</b> By Ridgwell Cullum.<BR> +<b>Treasure of Heaven, The.</b> By Marie Corelli.<BR> +<b>Two-Gun Man, The.</b> By Charles Alden Seltzer.<BR> +<b>Two Vanrevels, The.</b> By Booth Tarkington.<BR> +<b>Uncle William.</b> By Jennette Lee.<BR> +<b>Up from Slavery.</b> By Booker T. Washington.<BR> +<b>Vanity Box, The.</b> By C. N. Williamson.<BR> +<b>Vashti.</b> By Augusta Evans Wilson.<BR> +<b>Varmint, The.</b> By Owen Johnson.<BR> +<b>Vigilante Girl, A.</b> By Jerome Hart.<BR> +<b>Village of Vagabonds, A.</b> By F. Berkeley Smith.<BR> +<b>Visioning, The.</b> By Susan Glaspell.<BR> +<b>Voice of the People, The.</b> By Ellen Glasgow.<BR> +<b>Wanted—A Chaperon.</b> By Paul Leicester Ford.<BR> +<b>Wanted: A Matchmaker.</b> By Paul Leicester Ford.<BR> +<b>Watchers of the Plains, The.</b> By Ridgwell Cullum.<BR> +<b>Wayfarers, The.</b> By Mary Stewart Cutting.<BR> +<b>Way of a Man, The.</b> By Emerson Hough.<BR> +<b>Weavers, The.</b> By Gilbert Parker.<BR> +<b>When Wilderness Was King.</b> By Randall Parrish.<BR> +<b>Where the Trail Divides.</b> By Will Lillibridge.<BR> +<b>White Sister, The.</b> By Marion Crawford.<BR> +<b>Window at the White Cat, The.</b> By Mary Roberts Rinehart.<BR> +<b>Winning of Barbara Worth, The.</b> By Harold Bell Wright.<BR> +<b>With Juliet In England.</b> By Grace S. Richmond.<BR> +<b>Woman Haters, The.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.<BR> +<b>Woman In Question, The.</b> By John Reed Scott.<BR> +<b>Woman In the Alcove, The.</b> By Anna Katharine Green.<BR> +<b>Yellow Circle, The.</b> By Charles E. Walk.<BR> +<b>Yellow Letter, The.</b> By William Johnston.<BR> +<b>Younger Set, The.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Trail of the Axe, by Ridgwell Cullum + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRAIL OF THE AXE *** + +***** This file should be named 36522-h.htm or 36522-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/5/2/36522/ + +Produced by Andrew Sly, Al Haines and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</BODY> + +</HTML> + diff --git a/36522-h/images/img-front.jpg b/36522-h/images/img-front.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..79c812f --- /dev/null +++ b/36522-h/images/img-front.jpg diff --git a/36522.txt b/36522.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..27aaf1f --- /dev/null +++ b/36522.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12410 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Trail of the Axe, by Ridgwell Cullum + +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 Trail of the Axe + A Story of Red Sand Valley + +Author: Ridgwell Cullum + +Illustrator: Clarence F. Underwood + +Release Date: June 26, 2011 [EBook #36522] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRAIL OF THE AXE *** + + + + +Produced by Andrew Sly, Al Haines and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + + + + +[Frontispiece: "Don't think that makes any difference. I shall marry +him just the same." _Frontispiece.--The Trail of the Axe_.] + + + + + +The Trail of the Axe + +_A Story of the Red Sand Valley_ + + +BY RIDGWELL CULLUM + +Author of "The Watchers of the Plains," "The Sheriff of Dyke Hole", etc. + + + +With Frontispiece in Colors + +By CLARENCE F. UNDERWOOD + + + +A. L. BURT COMPANY + +Publishers New York + + + + +Copyright, 1910, by + +George W. Jacobs & Company + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAP. + + I. Dave + II. A Picnic in the Red Sand Valley + III. Affairs in Malkern + IV. Dick Mansell's News + V. Jim Truscott Returns + VI. Parson Tom Interferes + VII. The Work at the Mills + VIII. At the Church Bazaar + IX. In Dave's Office + X. An Auspicious Meeting + XI. The Summer Rains + XII. The Old Mills + XIII. Betty Decides + XIV. The Mills + XV. Betty Takes Cover + XVI. Disaster at the Mill + XVII. The Last of the Sawyer + XVIII. Face To Face + XIX. In the Mountains + XX. The Church Militant + XXI. An Adventure in the Fog + XXII. Terror in the Mountains + XXIII. The Red Tide of Anarchy + XXIV. In the Dead of Night + XXV. Mason's Prisoner + XXVI. To the Lumber Camp + XXVII. At Bay + XXVIII. Dave--the Man + XXIX. The End of the Strike + XXX. In the Dugout + XXXI. At Midnight + XXXII. Two Men--and a Woman + + + + +The Trail of the Axe + + + + +CHAPTER I + +DAVE + + +Dave was thirty-two, but looked forty; for, in moulding his great, +strong, ugly face, Nature had been less than kind to him. It is +probable, from his earliest, Dave had never looked less than ten years +older than he really was. + +Observing him closely, one had the impression that Nature had set +herself the task of equipping him for a tremendous struggle in the +battle of life; as though she had determined to make him invincible. +Presuming this to have been her purpose, she set to work with a liberal +hand. She gave him a big heart, doubtless wishing him to be strong to +fight and of a great courage, yet with a wonderful sympathy for the +beaten foe. She gave him the thews and sinews of a Hercules, probably +arguing that a man must possess a mighty strength with which to carry +himself to victory. To give him such physical strength it was necessary +to provide a body in keeping. Thus, his shoulders were abnormally wide, +his chest was of a mighty girth, his arms were of phenomenal length, +and his legs were gnarled and knotted with muscles which could never be +satisfactorily disguised by the class of "store" clothes it was his +frugal custom to wear. + +For his head Nature gave him a fine, keen brain; strong, practical, +subtly far-seeing in matters commercial, bluntly honest and temperate, +yet withal matching his big heart in kindly sympathy. It was thrilling +with a vast energy and capacity for work, but so pronounced was its +dominating force, that in the development of his physical features it +completely destroyed all delicacy of mould and gentleness of +expression. He displayed to the world the hard, rugged face of the +fighter, without any softening, unless, perhaps, one paused to look +into the depths of his deep-set gray eyes. + +Nature undoubtedly fulfilled her purpose. Dave was equipped as few men +are equipped, and if it were to be regretted that his architect had +forgotten that even a fighting man has his gentler moments, and that +there are certain requirements in his construction to suit him to such +moments, in all other respects he had been treated lavishly. Summed up +briefly, Dave was a tower of physical might, with a face of striking +plainness. + +It was twelve years since he came to the Red Sand Valley. He was then +fresh from the lumber regions of Puget Sound, on the western coast of +the United States. He came to Western Canada in search of a country to +make his own, with a small capital and a large faith in himself, +supported by a courage that did not know the meaning of defeat. + +He found the Red Sand Valley nestling in the foot-hills of the Rocky +Mountains. He saw the wonders of the magnificent pine woods which +covered the mountain slopes in an endless sea of deep, sombre green. +And he knew that these wonderful primordial wastes were only waiting +for the axe of the woodsman to yield a building lumber second to none +in the world. + +The valley offered him everything he needed. A river that flowed in +full tide all the open season, with possibilities of almost limitless +"timber booms" in its backwaters, a delicious setting for a village, +with the pick of a dozen adequate sites for the building of lumber +mills. He could hope to find nothing better, so he stayed. + +His beginning was humble. He started with a horse-power saw-pit, and a +few men up in the hills cutting for him. But he had begun his great +struggle with fortune, and, in a man such as Nature had made him, it +was a struggle that could only end with his life. The battle was +tremendous, but he never hesitated, he never flinched. + +Small as was his beginning, six years later his present great mills and +the village of Malkern had begun to take shape. Then, a year later, the +result of his own persistent representation, the Canadian Northwestern +Railroad built a branch line to his valley. And so, in seven years, his +success was practically assured. + +Now he was comfortably prosperous. The village was prosperous. But none +knew better than he how much still remained to be achieved before the +foundations of his little world were adequate to support the weight of +the vast edifice of commercial enterprise, which, with his own two +hands, his own keen brain, he hoped to erect. + +He was an American business man raised in the commercial faith of his +country. He understood the value of "monopoly," and he made for it. +Thus, when he could ill spare capital, by dint of heavy borrowings he +purchased all the land he required, and the "lumbering" rights of that +vast region. + +Then it was that he extended operations. He abandoned his first mill +and began the building of his larger enterprise further down the +valley, at a point where he had decided that the village of Malkern +should also begin its growth. + +Once the new mill was safely established he sold his old one to a man +who had worked with him from the start. The transaction was more in the +nature of a gift to an old friend and comrade. The price was nominal, +but the agreement was binding that the mill should only be used for the +production of small building material, and under no circumstances to be +used in the production of rough "baulks." This was to protect his own +monopoly in that class of manufacture. + +George Truscott, the lumberman with whom he made the transaction, +worked the old mills with qualified success for two years. Then he died +suddenly of blood-poisoning, supervening upon a badly mutilated arm +torn by one of his own saws. The mill automatically became the property +of his only son Jim, a youth of eighteen, curly-headed, bright, +lovable, but wholly irresponsible for such an up-hill fight as the +conduct of the business his father had left him. + +The master of the Malkern mills, as might be expected, was a man of +simple habits and frugal tastes. In his early struggles he had had +neither time nor money with which to indulge himself, and the habit of +simple living had grown upon him. He required so very little. He had no +luxurious home; a mere cottage of four rooms and a kitchen, over which +an aged and doting mother ruled, her establishment consisting of one +small maid. His office was a shack of two rooms, bare but useful, +containing one chair and one desk, and anything he desired to find a +temporary safe resting-place for strewn about the floor, or hung upon +nails driven into the walls. It was all he needed, a roof to shade him +from the blazing summer sun when he was making up his books, and four +walls to shut out the cruel blasts of the Canadian winter. + +He was sitting at his desk now, poring over a heap of letters which had +just arrived by the Eastern mail. This was the sort of thing he +detested. Correspondence entailed a lot of writing, and he hated +writing. Figures he could cope with, he had no grudge against them, but +composing letters was a task for which he did not feel himself +adequately equipped; words did not flow easily from his pen. His +education was rather the education of a man who goes through the world +with ears and eyes wide open. He had a wide knowledge of men and +things, but the inside of books was a realm into which he had not +deeply delved. + +At last he pushed his letters aside and sat back, his complaining chair +protesting loudly at the burden imposed upon it. He drew an impatient +sigh, and began to fill his pipe, gazing through the rain-stained +window under which his untidy desk stood. He had made up his mind to +leave the answering of his letters until later in the day, and the +decision brought him some relief. + +He reached for the matches. But suddenly he altered his mind and +removed his pipe from his mouth. A smile shone in his deep-set eyes at +the sight of a dainty, white figure which had just emerged from behind +a big stack of milled timber out in the yard and was hurrying toward +the office. + +He needed no second glance to tell him who the figure belonged to. It +was Betty--little Betty Somers, as he loved to call her--who taught the +extreme youth of Malkern out of her twenty-two years of erudition and +worldly wisdom. + +He sprang from his chair and went to the door to meet her, and as he +walked his great bulk and vast muscle gave his gait something of the +roll of a sailor. He had no lightness, no grace in his movements; just +the ponderous slowness of monumental strength. He stood awaiting her in +the doorway, which he almost filled up. + +Betty was not short, but he towered above her as she came up, his six +feet five inches making nothing of her five feet six. + +"This is bully," he cried delightedly, as she stood before him. "I +hadn't a notion you were getting around this morning, Betty." + +His voice was as unwieldy as his figure; it was husky too, in the +manner of powerful voices when their owners attempt to moderate them. +The girl laughed frankly up into his face. + +"I'm playing truant," she explained. Then her pretty lips twisted +wryly, and she pointed at the lintel of the door. "Please sit down +there," she commanded. Then she laughed again. "I want to talk to you, +and--and I have no desire to dislocate my neck." + +He made her feel so absurdly small; she was never comfortable unless he +was sitting down. + +The man grinned humorously at her imperious tone, and sat down. They +were great friends, these two. Betty looked upon him as a very dear, +big, ugly brother to whom she could always carry all her little worries +and troubles, and ever be sure of a sympathetic adviser. It never +occurred to her that Dave could be anything dearer to anybody. He was +just Dave--dear old Dave, an appellation which seemed to fit him +exactly. + +The thought of him as a lover was quite impossible. It never entered +her head. Probably the only people in Malkern who ever considered the +possibility of Dave as a lover were his own mother, and perhaps Mrs. +Tom Chepstow. But then they were wiser than most of the women of the +village. Besides, doubtless his mother was prejudiced, and Mrs. Tom, in +her capacity as the wife of the Rev. Tom Chepstow, made it her business +to study the members of her husband's parish more carefully than the +other women did. But to the ordinary observer he certainly did not +suggest the lover. He was so strong, so cumbersome, so unromantic. Then +his ways were so deliberate, so machine-like. It almost seemed as +though he had taken to himself something of the harsh precision of his +own mills. + +On the other hand, his regard for Betty was a matter of less certainty. +Good comradeship was the note he always struck in their intercourse, +but oftentimes there would creep into his gray eyes a look which spoke +of a warmth of feeling only held under because his good sense warned +him of the utter hopelessness of it. He was too painfully aware of the +quality of Betty's regard for him to permit himself any false hopes. + +Betty's brown eyes took on a smiling look of reproach as she held up a +warning finger. + +"Dave," she said, with mock severity, "I always have to remind you of +our compact. I insist that you sit down when I am talking to you. I +refuse to be made to feel--and look--small. Now light your pipe and +listen to me." + +"Go ahead," he grinned, striking a match. His plain features literally +shone with delight at her presence there. Her small oval, sun-tanned +face was so bright, so full of animation, so healthy looking. There was +such a delightful frankness about her. Her figure, perfectly rounded, +was slim and athletic, and her every movement suggested the open air +and perfect health. + +"Well, it's this way," she began, seating herself on the corner of a +pile of timber: "I'm out on the war-path. I want scalps. My pocketbook +is empty and needs filling, and when that's done I'll get back to my +school children, on whose behalf I am out hunting." + +"It's your picnic?" suggested Dave. + +"Not mine. The kiddies'. So now, old boy, put up your hands! It's your +money or your life." And she sat threatening him with her pocketbook, +pointing it at him as though it were a pistol. + +Dave removed his pipe. + +"Guess you'd best have 'em both," he smiled. + +But Betty shook her head with a joyous laugh. + +"I only want your money," she said, extending an open hand toward him. + +Dave thrust deep into his hip-pocket, and produced a roll of bills. + +"It's mostly that way," he murmured, counting them out. + +But his words had reached the girl, and her laugh died suddenly. + +"Oh, Dave!" she said reproachfully. + +And the man's contrition set him blundering. + +"Say, Betty, I'm a fool man anyway. Don't take any sort of notice. I +didn't mean a thing. Now here's fifty, and you can have any more you +need." + +He looked straight into her eyes, which at once responded to his +anxious smile. But she did not attempt to take the money. She shook her +head. + +"Too much." + +But he pushed the bills into her hand. + +"You can't refuse," he said. "You see, it's for the kiddies. It isn't +just for you." + +When Dave insisted refusal was useless. Betty had long since learned +that. Besides, as he said, it was for the "kiddies." She took the +money, and he sat and watched her as she folded the bills into her +pocketbook. The girl looked up at the sound of a short laugh. + +"What's that for?" she demanded, her brown eyes seriously inquiring. + +"Oh, just nothing. I was thinking." + +The man glanced slowly about him. He looked up at the brilliant summer +sun. Then his eyes rested upon the rough exterior of his unpretentious +office. + +"It meant something," asserted Betty. "I hate people to laugh--in that +way." + +"I was thinking of this shack of mine. I was just thinking, Betty, what +a heap of difference an elegant coat of paint makes to things. You see, +they're just the same underneath, but they--kind of look different with +paint on 'em, kind of please the eye more." + +"Just so," the girl nodded wisely. "And so you laughed--in that way." + +Dave's eyes twinkled. + +"You're too sharp," he said. Then he abruptly changed the subject. + +"Now about this picnic. You're expecting all the grown folk?" + +The girl's eyes opened to their fullest extent. + +"Of course I do. Don't you always come? It's only once a year." The +last was very like a reproach. + +The man avoided her eyes. He was looking out across the sea of stacked +timber at the great sheds beyond, where the saws were shrieking out +their incessant song. + +"I was thinking," he began awkwardly, "that I'm not much good at those +things. Of course I guess I can hand pie round to the folks; any fellow +can do that. But----" + +"But what?" The girl had risen from her seat and was trying to compel +his gaze. + +"Well, you see, we're busy here--desperately busy. Dawson's always +grumbling that we're short-handed----" + +Betty came up close to him, and he suddenly felt a gentle squeeze on +his shoulder. + +"You don't want to come," she said. + +"'Tisn't that--not exactly." + +He kept his eyes turned from her. + +"You see," he went on, "you'll have such a heap of folk there. They +mostly all get around--for you. Then there'll be Jim Truscott, and +Jim's worth a dozen of me when it comes to picnics and 'sociables' and +such-like." + +The girl's hand suddenly dropped from his shoulder, and she turned +away. A flush slowly mounted to her sun-tanned cheeks, and she was +angry at it. She stood looking out at the mills beyond, but she wasn't +thinking of them. + +At last she turned back to her friend and her soft eyes searched his. + +"If--if you don't come to the picnic to-morrow, I'll never forgive you, +Dave--never!" + +And she was gone before his slow tongue could frame a further excuse. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +A PICNIC IN THE RED SAND VALLEY + + +Summer, at the foot of the Canadian Rockies, sets in suddenly. There +are no dreary days of damp and cold when the east wind bites through to +the bones and chills right down to the marrow. One moment all is black, +dead; the lean branches and dead grass of last year make a waste of +dreary decay. Watch. See the magic of the change. The black of the +trees gives way to a warming brown; the grass, so sad in its +depression, suddenly lightens with the palest hue of green. There is at +once a warmth of tone which spreads itself over the world, and gladdens +the heart and sets the pulses throbbing with renewed life and hope. +Animal life stirs; the insect world rouses. At the sun's first smile +the whole earth wakens; it yawns and stretches itself; it blinks and +rubs its eyes, and presently it smiles back. The smile broadens into a +laugh, and lo! it is summer, with all the world clad in festal raiment, +gorgeous in its myriads of changing color-harmonies. + +It was on such a day in the smiling valley of the Red Sand River that +Betty Somers held her school picnic. There were no shadows to mar the +festivities she had arranged. The sky was brilliant, cloudless, and +early in the season as it was, the earth was already beginning to crack +and parch under the fiery sun. + +A dozen democrat wagons, bedecked with flags and filled to overflowing +with smiling, rosy-faced children, each wagon under the charge of one +of the village matrons, set out at eight o'clock in the morning for the +camping-ground. Besides these, an hour later, a large number of private +buggies conveyed the parents and provender, while the young people of +the village rode out on horseback as a sort of escort to the +commissariat. It was a gay throng, and there could be little doubt but +that the older folk were as delighted at the prospect of the outing as +the children themselves. + +Dave was there with the rest. Betty's challenge had had its effect. But +he came without any of the enthusiasm of the rest of the young people. +It was perfectly true that the demands of his mill made the outing +inconvenient to him, but that was not the real reason of his +reluctance. There was another, a far stronger one. All the years of his +manhood had taught him that there was small place for him where the +youth of both sexes foregathered. His body was too cumbersome, his +tongue was too slow, and his face was too plain. The dalliance of man +and maid was not for him, he knew, and did he ever doubt or forget it, +his looking-glass, like an evil spirit, was ever ready to remind and +convince him. + +The picnic ground was some five miles down the valley, in the depths of +a wide, forest-grown glen, through which a tiny tributary of the Red +Sand River tumbled its way over a series of miniature waterfalls. The +place was large and magnificently rock-bound, and looked as though it +had originally been chiseled by Nature to accommodate a rushing +mountain torrent. It gave one the impression of a long disused waterway +which, profiting by its original purpose, had become so wonderfully +fertilized that its vegetation had grown out of all proportion to its +capacity. It was a veritable jungle of undergrowth and forest, so dense +and wide spreading as almost to shut out the dazzling sunlight. It was +an ideal pleasure camping-ground, where the children could romp and +play every game known to the Western child, and their elders could +revel in the old, old game which never palls, and which the practice of +centuries can never rob of its youth. + +All the morning the children played, while the women were kept busy +with the preparations for the midday feast. The men were divided up +into two sections, the elders, taking office under the command of Tom +Chepstow, organizing the children's games, and the other half, +acknowledging the leadership of Mrs. Tom, assisting those engaged in +the culinary arrangements. + +As might be expected, the latter occupation found most favor with the +younger men. There was far more fun in wandering through the tangled +undergrowth of the riverside to help a girl fill a kettle, than in +racking one's brains for some startlingly unoriginal and long-forgotten +game with which to dazzle the mind of Malkern's youth. Then there were +the joys of gathering fire-wood, a task which enlisted the services of +at least a dozen couples. This was a much favored occupation. There was +no time limit, and it involved a long, long ramble. Then, too, it was +remarkable that every girl performing the simplest duty, and one in +which she never required the least assistance when at home, found it +quite impossible to do so here without the strong physical and moral +support of the man she most favored. + +Thus the morning passed. While the girls and men flirted, and the older +women took to themselves a reflected enjoyment of it all, the children +shrieked their delight at the simplest game, and baited their elders +with all the impudence of childhood. It was a morning of delight to +all; a morning when the sluggish blood of the oldest quickened in the +sunken veins; a morning when the joy of living was uppermost, and all +care was thrust into the background. + +It was not until after dinner that Dave saw anything of Betty. As he +had anticipated, Jim Truscott never left her side, and his own morning +had been spent with Tom Chepstow and the children. Then, at dinner, it +had fallen to his lot to assist the matrons in waiting upon the same +riotous horde. In consequence, by the time he got his own meal, Betty +and the younger section of the helpers had finished theirs and were +wandering off into the woods. + +After dinner he sought out a secluded spot in which to smoke and--make +the best of things. He felt he had earned a rest. His way took him +along the bank of the little tumbling river. It was delightfully +restful, cool and shadowed by the overhanging trees that nearly met +across it. It was not an easy path, but it was calmly beautiful and +remote, and that was all he sought. + +Just above one rapid, something larger than the others he had passed, +he came to a little log footbridge. It was a delicious spot, and he sat +down and filled his pipe. The murmur of the rapids below came up to him +pleasantly. All the foliage about him was of that tender green inspired +by the humidity of the dank, river atmosphere. Here and there the sun +broke through in patches and lit up the scene, and added beauty to the +remoter shadows of the woods. It was all so peaceful. Even the distant +voices of the children seemed to add to the calm of his retreat. + +His pipe was nearly finished, and an insidious languor was stealing +over him. He nodded once or twice, almost asleep. Then he started wide +awake; a familiar laughing voice sounded just behind him, calling him +by name. + +"Oh, Dave! So this is where you are! I've been hunting for you +till--till my feet are sore." + +Before he could move Betty had plumped herself down beside him on the +bridge. He was wide enough awake now, and his delight at the girl's +presence was so apparent that she promptly and frankly remarked upon it. + +"I do believe you're glad I came, and--woke you up," she laughed. + +The man leant back luxuriously and propped himself against the post of +the hand-rail. + +"I am, surely," he said with conviction. "I've been thinking about +picnics. It seems to me they're a heap of fun----" + +"So you stole away by yourself to enjoy this one." + +Betty's brown eyes glanced slyly at him. There was a half smile in +them, and yet they were serious. Dave began to refill his pipe. + +"Well, Betty, you see I just thought I'd like a smoke. I've been with +the kiddies all morning." + +Suddenly the girl sat round facing him. + +"Dave, I'm a little beast. I oughtn't to have made you come. I know you +don't care for this sort of thing, only--well, you are so kind, and you +are so fond of making people happy. And you--you---- Oh, Dave, I--I want +to tell you something. That's--that's why I was hunting for you." + +She had turned from him, and was gazing out down the stream now. Her +face was flushed a deep scarlet. For an instant she had encountered his +steady gray eyes and her confusion had been complete. She felt as +though he had read right down into her very soul. + +Dave put his pipe away. The serious expression of his rugged face was +unchanged, but the smile in his eyes had suddenly become more +pronounced. + +"So that's why you hunted me out?" he said gently. "Well, Betty, you +can tell me." + +He had seen the blushing face. He had noted the embarrassment and +hesitancy, and the final desperate plunge. He knew in his heart what +was coming, and the pain of that knowledge was so acute that he could +almost have cried out. Yet he sat there waiting, his eyes smiling, his +face calmly grave as it always was. + +For nearly a minute neither spoke. Then the man's deep voice urged the +girl. + +"Well?" + +Betty rested her face in her hands and propped her elbows on her knees. +All her embarrassment had gone now. She was thinking, thinking, and +when at last her words came that tone of excitement which she had used +just a moment before had quite gone out of her voice. + +"It's Jim," she said quietly. "He's asked me to marry him. I've +promised--and--and he's gone to speak to uncle." + +Dave took out his pipe again and looked into the bowl of it. + +"I guessed it was that," he said, after a while. Then he fumbled for +his tobacco. "And--are you happy--little Betty?" he asked a moment +later. + +"Yes--I--I think so." + +"You think so?" + +Dave was astonished out of himself. + +"You only think so?" he went on, his breath coming quickly. + +Betty sat quite still and the man watched her, with his pipe and +tobacco gripped tightly in his great hand. He was struggling with a mad +desire to crush this girl to his heart and defy any one to take her +from him. It was a terrible moment. But the wild impulse died down. He +took a deep breath and--slowly filled his pipe. + +"Tell me," he said, and his tone was very tender. + +The girl turned to him. She rested an arm on his bent knee and looked +up into his face. There was no longer any hesitation or doubt. She was +pale under the warm tanning of her cheeks, but she was very pretty, +and, to Dave, wildly seductive as she thus appealed to him. + +"Oh, Dave, I must tell you all. You are my only real friend. You, I +know, will understand, and can help me. If I went to uncle, good and +kind as he is, I feel he would not understand. And auntie, she is so +matter-of-fact and practical. But you--you are different from anybody +else." + +The man nodded. + +"I have loved Jim for so long," she went on hurriedly. "Long--long +before he ever even noticed me. To me he has always been everything a +man should and could be. You see, he is so kind and thoughtful, so +brave, so masterful, so--so handsome, with just that dash of +recklessness which makes him so fascinating to a girl. I have watched +him pay attention to other girls, and night after night I have cried +myself to sleep about it. Dave, you have never known what it is to love +anybody, so all this may seem silly to you, but I only want to show you +how much I have always cared for Jim. Well, after a long time he began +to take notice of me. I remember it so well," she went on, with a +far-away look in her eyes. "It was a year ago, at our Church Social. He +spent a lot of time with me there, and gave me a box of candy, and then +asked permission to see me home. Dave, from that moment I was in a +seventh heaven of happiness. Every day I have felt and hoped that he +would ask me to be his wife. I have longed for it, prayed for it, +dreaded it, and lived in a dream of happiness. And now he has asked me." + +She turned away to the bustling stream. Her eyes had become +pathetically sad. + +"And----" Dave prompted her. + +"Oh, I don't know." She shook her head a little helplessly. "It all +seems different now." + +"Different?" + +"Yes, that wildly happy feeling has gone." + +"You are--unhappy?" + +The man's voice shook as he put his question. + +"It isn't that. I'm happy enough, I suppose. Only--only--I think I'm +frightened now, or something. All my dreams seem to have tumbled about +my ears. I have no longer that wonderful looking forward. Is it because +he is mine now, and no one can take him from me? Or is it," her voice +dropped to an awed whisper, "that--I--don't----" + +She broke off as though afraid to say all she feared. Dave lit his pipe +and smoked slowly and thoughtfully. He had gone through his ordeal +listening to her, and now felt that he could face anything without +giving his own secret away. He must reassure her. He must remove the +doubt in her mind, for, in his quiet, reasoning way, he told himself +that all her future happiness was at stake. + +"No, it's not that, Betty," he said earnestly. "It's not that you love +him less. It's just that for all that year you've thought and thought +and hoped about it--till there's nothing more to it," he added lamely. +"You see, it's the same with all things. Realization is nothing. It's +all in the anticipation. You wait, little girl. When things are fixed, +and Parson Tom has said 'right,' you'll--why, you'll just be the +happiest little bit of a girl in Malkern. That's sure." + +Betty lifted her eyes to his ugly face and looked straight into the +kindly eyes. Just for one impulsive moment she reached out and took +hold of his knotty hand and squeezed it. + +"Dave, you are the dearest man in the world. You are the kindest and +best," she cried with unusual emotion. "I wonder----" and she turned +away to hide the tears that had suddenly welled up into her troubled +eyes. + +But Dave had seen them, and he dared not trust himself to speak. He sat +desperately still and sucked at his pipe, emitting great clouds of +smoke till the pungent fumes bit his tongue. + +Then relief came from an unexpected quarter. There was a sharp +crackling of bush just above where they sat and the scrunch of crushing +pine cones trodden under foot, and Jim Truscott stepped on to the +bridge. + +"Ah, here you are at last. My word, but I had a job to find you." + +His tone was light and easy, but his usually smiling face was clouded. +Betty sprang to her feet. + +"What is it, Jim?" she demanded, searching his face. "Something is +wrong. I know it is." + +Jim seated himself directly in front of Dave, who now watched him with +added interest. He now noticed several things in the boy he did not +remember having observed before. The face in repose, or rather without +the smile it usually wore, bore signs of weakness about the mouth. The +whole of the lower part of it lacked the imprint of keen decision. +There was something almost effeminate about the mould of his full lips, +something soft and yielding--even vicious. The rest of his face was +good, and even intellectual. He was particularly handsome, with crisp +curling hair of a light brown that closely matched his large expressive +eyes. His tall athletic figure was strangely at variance with the +intellectual cast of his face and head. But what Dave most noticed were +the distinct lines of dissipation about his eyes. And he wondered how +it was he had never seen them before. Perhaps it was that he so rarely +saw Jim without his cheery smile. Perhaps, now that Betty had told him +what had taken place, his observation was closer, keener. + +"What is it, Jim?" He added his voice to Betty's inquiry. Jim's face +became gloomier. He turned to the girl, who had resumed her seat at +Dave's side. + +"Have you told him?" he asked, and for a moment his eyes brightened +with a shadow of their old smile. + +The girl nodded, and Dave answered for her. + +"She's told me enough to know you're the luckiest fellow in the Red +Sand Valley," he said kindly. + +Jim glanced up into the girl's face with all the passion of his +youthful heart shining in his handsome eyes. + +"Yes, I am, Dave--in that way," he said. Then his smile faded out and +was replaced by a brooding frown. "But all the luck hasn't come my way. +I've talked to Parson Tom." + +"Ah!" Dave's ejaculation was ominous. + +Suddenly Jim exploded, half angrily, half pettishly, like a +disappointed schoolboy. + +"Betty, I've got to go away. Your uncle says so. He asked me all about +my mill, what my profits were, and all that. I told him honestly. I +know I'm not doing too well. He said I wasn't making enough to keep a +nigger servant on. He told me that until I could show him an income of +$2,500 a year there was to be no talk of engagement. What is more, he +said he couldn't have me philandering about after you until there was a +reasonable prospect of that income. We talked and argued, but he was +firm. And in the end he advised me, if I were really in earnest and +serious, to go right away, take what capital I had, and select a new +and rising country to start in. He pointed out that there was not room +enough here for two in the lumbering business; that Dave, here, +complained of the state of trade, so what chance could I possibly have +without a tithe of his resources. Finally, he told me to go and think +out a plan, talk it over with you, and then tell him what I had decided +upon. So here I am, and----" + +"So am I," added Betty. + +"And as I am here as well," put in Dave, "let's talk it over now. Where +are you thinking of going?" + +"Seems to me the Yukon is the place. There's a big rush going on. +There's great talk of fabulous fortunes there." + +"Yes, fabulous," said Dave dryly. "It's a long way. A big fare. You'll +find yourself amongst all the scum and blacklegs of this continent. +You'll be up against every proposition known to the crook. You'll get +tainted. Why not do some ranching? Somewhere around here, toward +Edmonton." + +Jim shook his head gloomily. + +"I haven't nearly enough capital." + +"Maybe I could manage it for you," said Dave thoughtfully. "I mean it +as a business proposition," he added hastily. + +Jim's face cleared, and his ready smile broke out like sunshine after a +summer storm. + +"Would you?" he cried. "Yes, a business proposition. Business interest. +I know the very place," he went on ardently. "Betty, wouldn't that be +bully? How would you like to be a rancher's wife?" + +But his spirits quickly received a damper. Betty shook her head. + +"No, Jim. Not at Dave's expense." Then she turned to the man who had +made the offer. "No, no, Dave, old friend. Jim and I know you. This is +not business from your point of view. You added that to disguise your +kindly intention." + +"But----" Dave began to protest. + +But Betty would have none of it. + +"This is a debate," she said, with a brightness she did not feel, "and +I am speaking. Jim," she turned gently to her lover, "we'll start fair +and square with the world. You must do as uncle says. And you can do +it. Do it yourself--yourself unaided. God will help you--surely. You +are clever; you have youth, health and strength. I will wait for you +all my life, if necessary. You have my promise, and it is yours until +you come back to claim me. It may be only a year or two. We must be +very, very brave. Whatever plan you decide on, if it is the Yukon, or +Siberia, or anywhere else, I am content, and I will wait for you." + +The girl's words were so gently spoken, yet they rang with an +irrevocable decision that astonished her hearers. Dave looked into the +pretty, set face. He had known her so long. He had seen her in almost +every mood, yet here was a fresh side to her character he had never +even suspected, and the thought flashed through his mind, to what +heights of ambition might a man not soar with such a woman at his side. + +Jim looked at her too. But his was a stare of amazement, and even +resentment. + +"But why, Betty?" he argued sharply. "Why throw away a business offer +such as this, when it means almost certain success? Dave offered it +himself, and surely you will allow that he is a business man before all +things." + +"Is he?" Betty smiled. Then she turned to the man who had made the +offer. "Dave, will you do something for me?" + +"Why, yes, Betty--if it's not to go and wash up cups down there," he +replied at once, with a grin. + +"No, it isn't to wash cups. It's"--she glanced quickly at Jim, who was +watching her with anything but a lover-like stare--"it's--to withdraw +that offer." + +Dave removed his pipe and turned to Jim. + +"That ranch business is off," he said. + +Then he suddenly sat up and leant toward the younger man. + +"Jim, boy, you know I wish you well," he said. "I wish you so well that +I understand and appreciate Betty's decision now, though I allow I +didn't see it at first. She's right. Parson Tom is right. I was wrong. +Get right out into the world and make her a home. Get right out and +show her, and the rest of us, the stuff you're made of. You won't fail +if you put your back into it. And when you come back it'll be a great +day for you both. And see here, boy, so long as you run straight you +can ask me anything in the name of friendship, and I'll not fail you. +Here's my hand on it." + +Something of Dave's earnestness rather than the girl's quiet strength +seemed to suddenly catch hold of and lift the dejected man out of his +moodiness. His face cleared and his sunny smile broke out again. He +gripped the great hand, and enthusiasm rang in his voice. + +"By God, you're right, Dave," he cried. "You're a good chap. Yes, I'll +go. Betty," he turned to the girl, "I'll go to the Yukon, where there's +gold for the seeking. I'll realize all the money I can. I won't part +with my mill. That will be my fall-back if I fail. But I won't fail. +I'll make money by--no, I'll make money. And----" Suddenly, at the +height of his enthusiasm, his face fell, and the buoyant spirit dropped +from him. + +"Yes, yes," broke in Betty, anxious to see his mood last. + +Jim thought for a moment while the clouds gathered on his face. Then he +looked steadily at Dave. + +"Dave," he said, and paused. Then he began again. "Dave--in +friendship's name--I'll ask you something now. Betty here," he +swallowed, as though what he had to say was very difficult. "You see, I +may be away a long time, you can never tell. Will you--will you take +care of her for me? Will you be her--her guardian, as you have always +been mine? I know I'm asking a lot, but somehow I can't leave her here, +and--I know there's her uncle and aunt. But, I don't know, somehow I'd +like to think you had given me your word that she would be all right, +that you were looking after her for me. Will you?" + +His face and tone were both eager, and full of real feeling. Dave never +flinched as he listened to the request, yet every word cut into his +heart, lashed him till he wondered how it was Jim could not see and +understand. He moistened his lips. He groped in his pocket for his +matches and lit one. He let it burn out, watching it until the flame +nearly reached his fingers. Then he knocked his pipe out on his boot, +and broke it with the force he used. Finally he looked up with a smile, +and his eyes encountered Betty's. + +She smiled back, and he turned to her lover, who was waiting for his +answer. + +"Sure I'll look after her--for you," he said slowly. + +Jim sprang to his feet. + +"I can never thank----" + +But Dave cut him short. + +"Don't thank me, boy," he said, preparing to return to the camp. +"Just--get out and do." And he left the lovers to return at their +leisure. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +AFFAIRS IN MALKERN + + +Four glowing summers have gone; a fifth is dawning, driving before its +radiant splendor the dark shadows and gray monotony of winter's icy +pall. Malkern is a busy little town, spreading out its feelers in the +way of small houses dotted about amidst the park land of the valley. +Every year sees a further and further extension of its boarded +sidewalks and grass-edged roadways; every year sees its population +steadily increasing; every year sees an advancement in the architecture +of its residences, and some detail displaying additional prosperity in +its residents. + +Behind this steady growth of prosperity sits Dave, large, quiet, but +irresistible. His is the guiding hand. The tiller of the Malkern ship +is in his grasp, and it travels the laid course without deviation +whatsoever. The harbor lies ahead, and, come storm or calm, he drives +steadily on for its haven. + +Thus far has the man been content. Thus far have his ambitions been +satisfied. He has striven, and gained his way inch by inch; but with +that striving has grown up in him a desire such as inevitably comes to +the strong and capable worker. A steady success creates a desire to +achieve a master-stroke, whereby the fruit which hitherto he has been +content to pluck singly falls in a mass into his lap. And therein lies +the human nature which so often upsets the carefully trained and +drilled method of the finest tempered brain. + +Dave saw his goal looming. He saw clearly that all that he had worked +for, hoped for, could be gained at one stroke. That one stroke meant +capturing the great government contract for the lumber required for +building the new naval docks. It was a contract involving millions of +dollars, and, with all the courage with which his spirit was laden, he +meant to attempt the capture. His plans had been silently laid. No +detail had been forgotten, no pains spared. Night and day his +thoughtful brain had worked upon his scheme, and now had come that time +when he must sit back and wait for the great moment. Nor did this great +moment depend on him, and therein lay the uncertainty, the gamble so +dear to the human heart. + +His scheme had been confided to only three people, and these were with +him now, sitting on the veranda of the Rev. Tom Chepstow's house. The +house stood on a slightly rising ground facing out to the east, whence +a perfect view of the wide-spreading valley was obtained. It was a +modest enough place, but trim and carefully kept. Parson Tom's stipend +was so limited and uncertain that luxury was quite impossible; a rigid +frugality was the ruling in his small household. + +It was Saturday. The day's work was over, and the family were watching +the sunset and awaiting the hour for supper. The parson was luxuriating +in a pipe in a well-worn deck-chair at one extremity of the deep, +wild-cucumber-covered veranda. Dave sat near him; Mary Chepstow, the +parson's wife, was crocheting a baby's woolen jacket, stoutly +comfortable in a leather armchair; while Betty, a little more mature in +figure, a little quieter in manner, but even prettier and more charming +to look at than she was on the day of her picnic nearly five years ago, +occupied a seat near the open French window, ready to attend at a +moment's notice to the preparing of supper. + +Betty had been silent for quite a while. She was staring with +introspective gaze out in the direction of the railroad depot. The two +men had been discussing the best means of raising the funds for the +building of a new church, aided by a few impracticable suggestions from +Mrs. Chepstow, who had a way of counting her stitches aloud in the +midst of her remarks. Suddenly Betty turned to her uncle, whose lean, +angular frame was grotesquely hunched up in his deck-chair. + +"Will old Mudley bring the mail over if the train does come in this +evening?" she inquired abruptly. + +The parson shook his head. His lean, clean-shaven face lit with a +quizzical smile as he glanced over at his niece. + +"Why should he?" he replied. "He never does bring mail round. Are you +expecting a letter--from him?" + +There was no self-consciousness in the girl's manner as she replied. +There was not even warmth. + +"Oh, no; I was wondering if I should get one from Maud Hardwig. She +promised to write me how Lily's wedding went off in Regina. It is a +nuisance about the strike. But it's only the plate-layers, isn't it; +and it only affects the section where they are constructing east of +Winnipeg?" + +Her uncle removed his pipe. + +"Yes. But it affects indirectly the whole system. You see, they won't +put on local mails from Regina. They wait for the eastern mail to come +through. By the way, how long is it since you heard from Jim?" + +Betty had turned away and was watching the vanishing point of the +railway track, where it entered the valley a couple of miles away. +Dave's steady eyes turned upon her. But she didn't answer at once, and +her uncle had to call her attention. + +"Betty!" + +"Oh, I'm sorry, uncle," she replied at once. "I was dreaming. When did +I hear? Oh, nearly nine months ago." + +Mary Chepstow looked up with a start. + +"Nine months? Gracious, child--there, I've done it wrong." + +Bending over her work she withdrew her hook and started to unravel the +chain she was making. + +"Yes," Betty went on coldly. "Nine months since I had a letter. But +I've heard indirectly." + +Her uncle sat up. + +"You never told me," he said uneasily. + +The girl's indifference was not without its effect on him. She never +talked of Jim Truscott now. And somehow the subject was rarely broached +by any of them. Truscott had nominally gone away for two or three +years, but they were already in the fifth year since his departure, and +there was as yet no word of his returning. Secretly her uncle was +rather pleased at her silence on the subject. He augured well from it. +He did not think there was to be any heart-breaking over the matter. He +had never sanctioned any engagement between them, but he had been +prepared to do so if the boy turned up under satisfactory conditions. +Now he felt that it was time to take action in the matter. Betty was +nearly twenty-seven, and--well, he did not want her to spend her life +waiting for a man who showed no sign of returning. + +"I didn't see the necessity," she said quietly. "I heard of him through +Dave." + +The parson swung round on the master of the mills. His keen face was +alert with the deepest interest. + +"You, Dave?" he exclaimed. + +The lumberman stirred uneasily, and Mary Chepstow let her work lie idle +in her lap. + +"Dawson--my foreman, you know--got a letter from Mansell. You remember +Mansell? He acted as Jim's foreman at his mill. A fine sawyer, +Mansell----" + +"Yes, yes." Parson Tom's interest made him impatient. + +"Well, you remember that Mansell went with Jim when he set out for the +Yukon. They intended to try their luck together. Partners, of course. +Well, Mansell wrote Dawson he was sick to death of worrying things out +up there. He said he'd left Jim, but did not state why. He asked him if +my mill was going strong, and would there be a job for him if he came +back. He said that Jim was making money now. He had joined a man named +Broncho Bill, a pretty hard citizen, and in consequence he was doing +better. How he was making money he didn't say. But he finished up his +remarks about the boy by saying he'd leave him to tell his own story, +as he had no desire to put any one away." + +Mrs. Chepstow offered no comment, but silently picked up her work and +went on with it. Her husband sat back in his chair, stretching his long +muscular legs, and folding his hands behind his head. Betty displayed +not the least interest in Dave's haltingly told story. + +The silence on the veranda was ominous. Chepstow began to refill his +pipe, furtively watching his niece's pretty profile as she sat looking +down the valley. It was his wife who broke the oppressive silence. + +"I can't believe badly--three treble in the adjacent hole"--she +muttered, referring to her pattern book, "of him. I always liked +him--five chain." + +"So do I," put in Dave with emphasis. + +Betty glanced quickly into his rugged face. + +"You don't believe the insinuations of that letter?" she asked him +sharply. + +"I don't." + +Dave's reply was emphatic. Betty smiled over at him. Then she jumped up +from her seat and pointed down the track. + +"There's the mail," she cried. Then she came to her aunt's side and +laid a hand coaxingly on her shoulder. "Will you see to supper, dear, +if I go down for the mail?" + +Mrs. Chepstow would not trust herself to speak, she was in the midst of +a complicated manipulation of the pattern she was working, so she +contented herself with a nod, and Betty was off like the wind. The two +men watched her as she sped down the hard red sand trail, and neither +spoke until a bend in the road hid her from view. + +"She's too good a girl, Dave," Chepstow said with almost militant +warmth. "She's not going to be made a fool of by--by----" + +"She won't be made a fool of by any one," Dave broke in with equal +warmth. "There's no fear of it, if I'm any judge," he added. "I don't +think you realize that girl's spirit, Tom. Here, I'll tell you +something I've never told anybody. When Jim went away Betty came to me +and asked me to let her study my mills. She wanted to learn all the +business of 'em. All the inside of the management of 'em. If I'd have +let her she'd have learnt how to run the saws. And do you know why she +did it? I'll tell you. Because she thought Jim might come back broke, +and he and she together could start up his old mill again, so as to win +through. That's Betty. Can you beat it? That girl has made up her mind +to a certain line of action, and she'll see it through, no matter what +her feelings may be. No word of yours, or mine, will turn her from her +purpose. She'll wait for Jim." + +"Yes, and waste the best of her life," exclaimed Mrs. Chepstow. "One, +two, three--turn." + +Dave smiled over at the rotund figure crocheting so assiduously. +Although Mary Chepstow was over forty her face still retained its +youthful prettiness. The parson laughed. He generally laughed at his +wife's views upon anything outside of her small household and the care +of the sick villagers. But it was never an unkind laugh. Just a large, +tolerant good-nature, a pronounced feature in his character. Parson +Tom, like many kindly men, was hasty of temper, even fiery, and being a +man of considerable athletic powers, this characteristic had, on more +than one occasion, forcibly brought some recalcitrant member of his +uncertain-tempered flock to book, and incidentally acquired for him the +sobriquet of "the fighting parson." + +"I don't know about wasting the best of her life," he said. "Betty has +never wasted her life. Look at the school she's got now. And, mark you, +she's done it all herself. She has three teachers under her. She has +negotiated all the finance of the school herself. She got the +government by the coat-tails and dragged national support out of it. +Why, she's a wonder. No, no, not waste, Mary. Let her wait if she +chooses. We won't interfere. I only hope that when Jim does come back +he'll be a decent citizen. If he isn't, I'd bet my last cent Betty will +know how to deal with him." + +"She'll sure give him up, if he isn't," said Dave with conviction. + +Mary looked up, her round blue eyes twinkling. + +"Dave knows Betty better than we do, Tom. I'd almost think---- I'm not +sure I like this shade of pink," she digressed, examining her wool +closely. "Er--what was I saying? Oh, yes--I'd almost think he'd made a +special study of her." + +A deep flush spread slowly over Dave's ugly face, and he tried to hide +it by bending over his pipe and examining the inside of the bowl. + +Parson Tom promptly changed the subject. He shook his head and turned +away to watch the ruddy extravagance of the sunset in the valley. + +"Dave has got far too much to think of in his coming government +contract to bother with a girl like Betty. By the way, when do you +expect to hear the result of your tender, Dave?" + +"Any time." + +The lumberman's embarrassment had vanished at the mention of his +contract. His eyes lit, and the whole of his plain features were +suddenly illumined. This was his life's purpose. This contract meant +everything to him. All that had gone before, all his labor, his early +struggles, they were nothing to the store he set by this one great +scheme. + +"Good. And your chances?" There was the keenest interest in the +parson's question. + +"Well, I'd say they're good. You see, that find of ours up in the hills +opens a possibility we never had before. The new docks require an +enormous supply of ninety-foot timber. It's got to be ninety-foot +stuff. Well, we've got the timber in that new find. There's a valley of +some thousands of acres of forest which will supply it. Tom," he went +on eagerly, "we could cut 'em hundred-and-twenty-foot logs from that +forest till the cows come home. It's the greatest proposition in +lumbering. It's one of the greatest of those great primordial pine +forests which are to be found in the Rockies, if one is lucky enough. +At present we are the only people in Canada who can give them the stuff +they need, and enough of it. Yes, I think I'll get it. I've set the +wires pulling all I know. I've cut the price. I've done everything I +can, and I think I'll get it. If I do I'll be a millionaire half a +dozen times over, and Malkern, and all its people, will rise to an +immense prosperity. I must get it! And having got it, I must push it +through successfully." + +Mary and her husband were hanging on the lumberman's words, carried +away by his enthusiasm. There was that light of battle in his eyes, the +firm setting of his heavy under-jaw, which they knew and understood so +well. To them he was the personification of resolution. To them his +personality was irresistible. + +"Of course you'll push it through successfully," Tom nodded. + +"Yes, yes. I shall. I must," Dave said, stirring his great body in his +chair with a restlessness which spoke of his nervous tension. "But it's +this time limit. You see, it's a government contract. They want these +naval docks built quickly. The whole scheme is to be rushed through. +Since the Imperial Conference has decided that each colony is to build +its own share of the navy for imperial defense, in view of the European +situation, that building is to be begun at once. They are laying down +five ships this year, and, by the end of the year, they are to have +docks ready for the laying down of six more. My contract is for the +lumber for those docks. You see? My contract must be completed before +winter closes down, without fail. I have guaranteed that. Well, as I am +the only lumberman in Canada that can supply this heavy lumber, if they +do not give it to me they will have to go to the States for it. Yes," +he added, with something like a sigh, "I think I shall get it. +But--this time limit! If I fail it will break me, and, in the crash, +Malkern will go too." + +Mary Chepstow sighed with emotion. Her crochet was forgotten. + +"You won't fail," she murmured, her eyes glistening. "You can't!" + +"Malkern isn't going to tumble about our ears, old friend," Parson Tom +said with quiet assurance. + +Dave had fallen back into his lounging attitude and puffed at his pipe. + +"No," he said. Then he pointed down the trail in the direction of the +depot. "There's Betty coming along in a hurry with Jenkins Mudley." + +All eyes turned to look. Betty was almost running beside the tall thin +figure of the operator and postmaster of Malkern. They came up with a +final rush, the man flourishing a telegram at Dave. Betty was carrying +a number of letters. + +"I just thought I'd bring this along myself," Mudley grinned. +"Everything's been delayed through the strike down east. This, too. +Felt I'd hate to let any one else hand it to you, Dave." + +Dave snatched at the tinted envelope and tore it open, while Betty, +nodding at her uncle and aunt, her eyes dancing with delight, made +frantic signs to them. But they took no notice of her, keeping their +eyes fixed on the towering form of the master of the mills. Dave was +the calmest man present. He read the message over twice, and then +deliberately thrust it into his pocket. Then, as he returned to his +seat, he said--"I've got my contract, folks." + +"Hurrah!" cried Betty, no longer able to control herself. The operator +had previously imparted the fact to her. Then, with a jump, she was on +the veranda and flung some letters into her uncle's lap, retaining one +for herself that had already been read. The next moment she had seized +both of Dave's great hands, and was wringing them with all her heart +and soul shining in her eyes. + +"I'm so--so glad, I don't know what I'm doing or saying," she cried, +and then collapsed on her uncle's knee. + +Dave laughed quietly, but her aunt, her face belying her words, +reproved her gently. + +"Betty," she said warningly as the girl scrambled to her feet, "don't +get excited. I think you'd better go and see to supper. I see you got +your letter. How did the wedding go off?" + +Betty was leaning against one of the veranda posts. + +"Oh, yes," she said indifferently. "I'd forgotten my letter. It's from +Jim. He's coming home." + +Her aunt suddenly picked up her work. The parson began to open his +letters. Dave's eyes, until that moment smiling, suddenly became +serious. The girl's news had a strangely damping effect. Dave cleared +his throat as though about to speak. But he remained silent. + +Then Betty moved across to the door. + +"I'll go and get supper," she said quietly, and vanished into the house. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +DICK MANSELL'S NEWS + + +For Dave the next fortnight was fraught with a tremendous pressure of +work. But arduous and wearing as it was, to him there was that thrill +of conscious striving which is the very essence of life to the +ambition-inspired man. His goal loomed dimly upon his horizon, he could +see it in shadowy outline, and every step he took now, every effort he +put forth, he knew was carrying him on, drawing him nearer and nearer +to it. He worked with that steady enthusiasm which never rushes. He was +calm and purposeful. To hasten, to diverge from his deliberate course +in the heat of excitement, he knew would only weaken his effort. +Careful organization, perfect, machine-like, was what he needed, and +the work would do itself. + +At the mills a large extension of the milling floors and an added +number of saws were needed. In its present state the milling floor +could hardly accommodate the ninety-foot logs demanded by the contract. +This was a structural alteration that must be carried out at express +speed, and had been prepared for, so that it was only a matter of +executing plans already drawn up. Joel Dawson, the foreman, one of the +best lumbermen in the country, was responsible for the alterations. +Simon Odd, the master sawyer, had the organizing of the skilled labor +staff inside the mill, a work of much responsibility and considerable +discrimination. + +But with Dave rested the whole responsibility and chief organization. +It was necessary to secure labor for both the mill and the camps up in +the hills. And for this the district had to be scoured, while two +hundred lumber-jacks had to be brought up from the forests of the +Ottawa River. + +Dave and his lieutenants worked all their daylight hours, and most of +the night was spent in harness. They ate to live only, and slept only +when their falling eyelids refused to keep open. + +Only Dave and his two loyal supporters knew the work of that fortnight; +only they understood the anxiety and strain, but their efforts were +crowned with success, and at the end of that time the first of the +"ninety-footers" floated down the river to the mouth of the great boom +that lay directly under the cranes of the milling floor. + +It was not until that moment that Dave felt free to look about him, to +turn his attention from the grindstone of his labors. It was midday +when word passed of the arrival of the first of the timber, and he went +at once to verify the matter for himself. It was a sight to do his +heart good. The boom, stretching right into the heart of the mills, was +a mass of rolling, piling logs, and a small army of men was at work +upon them piloting them so as to avoid a "crush." It was perilous, +skilful work, and the master of the mills watched with approval the +splendid efforts of these intrepid lumber-jacks. He only waited until +the rattling chains of the cranes were lowered and the first log was +grappled and lifted like a match out of the water, and hauled up to the +milling floor. Then, with a sigh as of a man relieved of a great +strain, he turned away and passed out of his yards. + +It was the first day for a fortnight he had gone to his house for +dinner. + +His home was a small house of weather-boarding with a veranda all +creeper-grown, as were most of the houses in the village. It had only +one story, and every window had a window-box full of simple flowers. It +stood in a patch of garden that was chiefly given up to vegetables, +with just a small lawn of mean-looking turf with a centre bed of +flowers. Along the top-railed fence which enclosed it were, set at +regular intervals, a number of small blue-gum and spruce trees. It was +just such an abode as one might expect Dave to possess: simple, useful, +unpretentious. It was the house of a man who cared nothing for luxury. +Utility was the key-note of his life. And the little trivial +decorations in the way of creepers, flowers, and such small luxuries +were due to the gentle, womanly thought of his old mother, with whom he +lived, and who permitted no one else to minister to his wants. + +She was in the doorway when he came up, a small thin figure with +shriveled face and keen, questioning eyes. She was clad in black, and +wore a print overall. Her snow-white hair was parted in the middle and +smoothed down flat, in the method of a previous generation. She was an +alert little figure for all her sixty odd years. + +The questioning eyes changed to a look of gladness as the burly figure +of her son turned in at the gate. There could be no doubt as to her +feelings. Dave was all the world to her. Her admiration for her son +amounted almost to idolatry. + +"Dinner's ready," she said eagerly. "I thought I'd just see if you were +coming. I didn't expect you. Have you time for it, Dave?" + +"Sure, ma," he responded, stooping and kissing her upturned face. "The +logs are down." + +"Dear boy, I'm glad." + +It was all she said, but her tone, and the look she gave him, said far +more than the mere words. + +Dave placed one great arm gently about her narrow shoulders and led her +into the house. + +"I'm going to take an hour for dinner to-day sure," he said, with +unusual gaiety. "Just to celebrate. After this," he went on, "for six +months I'm going to do work that'll astonish even you, ma." + +"But you won't overdo it, Dave, will you? The money isn't worth it. It +isn't really. I've lived a happy life without much of it, boy, and I +don't want much now. I only want my boy." + +There was a world of gentle solicitude in the old woman's tones. So +much that Dave smiled upon her as he took his place at the table. + +"You'll have both, ma, just as sure as sure. I'm not only working for +the sake of the money. Sounds funny to say that when I'm working to +make myself a millionaire. But it's not the money. It's success first. +I don't like being beaten, and that's a fact. We Americans hate being +beaten. Then there's other things. Think of these people here. They'll +do well. Malkern'll be a city to be reckoned with, and a prosperous +one. Then the money's useful to do something with. We can help others. +You know, ma, how we've talked it all out." + +The mother helped her son to food. + +"Yes, I know. But your health, boy, you must think of that." + +Dave laughed boisterously, an unusual thing with him. But his mood was +light. He felt that he wanted to laugh at anything. What did anything +matter? By this time a dozen or so of the "ninety-footers" were already +in the process of mutilation by his voracious saws. + +"Health, ma?" he cried. "Look at me. I don't guess I'm pretty, but I +can do the work of any French-Canadian horse in my yards." + +The old woman shook her silvery head doubtfully. + +"Well, well, you know best," she said, "only I don't want you to get +ill." + +Dave laughed again. Then happening to glance out of the window he saw +the figure of Joe Hardwig, the blacksmith, turning in at the gate. + +"Another plate, ma," he said hastily. "There's Hardwig coming along." + +His mother summoned her "hired" girl, and by the time Hardwig's knock +came at the door a place was set for him. Dave rose from the table. + +"Come right in, Joe," he said cheerily. "We're just having grub. Ma's +got some bully stew. Sit down and join us." + +But Joe Hardwig declined, with many protestations. He was a broad, +squat little man, whose trade was in his very manner, in the strength +of his face, and in the masses of muscle which his clothes could not +conceal. + +"The missus is wantin' me," he said. "Thank you kindly all the same. +Your servant, mam," he added awkwardly, turning to Dave's mother. Then +to the lumberman, "I jest come along to hand you a bit of information I +guessed you'd be real glad of. Mansell--Dick Mansell's got back! I've +been yarnin' with him. Say, guess you'll likely need him. He's wantin' +a job too. He's a bully sawyer." + +Dave had suddenly become serious. + +"Dick Mansell!" he cried. Then, after a pause, "Has he brought word of +Jim Truscott?" + +The mother's eyes were on her son, shrewdly speculating. She had seen +his sudden gravity. She knew full well that he cared less for Mansell's +powers as a sawyer than for Mansell as the companion and sharer of Jim +Truscott's exile. Now she waited for the blacksmith's answer. + +Joe shifted uneasily. His great honest face looked troubled. He had not +come there to spill dirty water. He knew how much Dave wanted skilled +hands, and he knew that Dick needed work. + +"Why, yes," he said at last. "At least--that is----" + +"Out with it, man," cried Dave, with unusual impatience. "How is Jim, +and--how has he done?" + +Just for an instant Joe let an appealing glance fall in the old woman's +direction, but he got no encouragement from her. She was steadily +proceeding with her dinner. Besides, she never interfered with her boy. +Whatever he did was always right to her. + +"Well?" Dave urged the hesitating man. + +"Oh, I guess he's all right. That is--he ain't hard up. Why yes, he was +speakin' of him," Joe stumbled on. "He guessed he was comin' along down +here later. That is, Jim is--you see----" + +But Dave hated prevarication. He could see that Joe didn't want to tell +what he had heard. However he held him to it fast. + +"Has Jim been running straight?" he demanded sharply. + +"Oh, as to that--I guess so," said Joe awkwardly. + +Dave came over to where Joe was still standing, and laid a hand on his +shoulder. + +"See here, Joe, we all know you; you're a good sportsman, and you don't +go around giving folks away--and bully for you. But I'd rather you told +me what Mansell's told you than that he should tell me. See? It won't +be peaching. I've got to hear it." + +Joe looked straight up into his face, and suddenly his eyes lit angrily +at his own thought. "Yes, you'd best have it," he exclaimed, all his +hesitation gone; "that dogone boy's been runnin' a wild racket. He's +laid hold of the booze and he's never done a straight day's work since +he hit the Yukon trail. He's comin' back to here with a gambler's wad +in his pocketbook, and--and--he's dead crooked. Leastways, that's how +Mansell says. It's bin roulette, poker an' faro. An' he's bin runnin' +the joint. Mansell says he ain't no sort o' use for him no ways, and +that he cut adrift from the boy directly he got crooked." + +"Oh, he did, did he?" said Dave, after a thoughtful pause. "I don't +seem to remember that Dick Mansell was any saint. I'd have thought a +crooked life would have fallen in with his views, but he preferred to +turn the lad adrift when he most needed help. However, it don't +signify. So the lad's coming back a drunkard, a gambler and a crook? At +least Dick Mansell says so. Does he say why he's coming back?" + +"Well, he s'poses it's the girl--Miss Betty." + +"Ah!" + +Joe shifted uneasily. + +"It don't seem right--him a crook," he said, with some diffidence. + +"No." Then Dave's thoughtful look suddenly changed to one of business +alertness, and his tone became crisp. "See here, Joe, what about that +new tackle for the mills? Those hooks and chains must be ready in a +week. Then there's those cant-hooks for the hill camps. The smiths up +there are hard at it, so I'm going to look to you for a lot. Then +there's another thing. Is your boy Alec fit to join the mills and take +his place with the other smiths? I want another hand." + +"Sure, he's a right good lad--an' thankee. I'll send him along right +away." The blacksmith was delighted. He always wanted to get his boy +taken on at the mill. The work that came his way he could cope with +himself; besides, he had an assistant. He didn't want his boy working +under him; it was not his idea of things. It was far better that he +should get out and work under strangers. + +"Well, that's settled." + +Dave turned to his dinner and Joe Hardwig took his leave, and when +mother and son were left together again the old woman lost no time in +discussing Dick Mansell and his unpleasant news. + +"I never could bear that Mansell," she said, with a severe shake of her +head. + +"No, ma. But he's a good sawyer--and I need such men." + +The old woman looked up quickly. + +"I was thinking of Jim Truscott." + +"That's how I guessed." + +"Well? What do you think?" + +Dave shook his head. + +"I haven't seen Jim yet," he said. "Ma, we ain't Jim's judges." + +"No." + +"I'm going down to the depot," Dave said after a while. "Guess I've got +some messages to send. I'm getting anxious about that strike. They say +that neither side will give way. The railway is pretty arbitrary on +this point, and the plate-layers are a strong union. I've heard that +the brakesmen and engine-drivers are going to join them. If they do, +it's going to be bad for us. That is, in a way. Strikes are infectious, +and I don't want 'em around here just now. We've got to cut a hundred +thousand foot a day steady, and anything delaying us means--well, it's +no use thinking what it means. We've got to be at full work night and +day until we finish. I'll get going." + +He pushed his plate away and rose from the table. He paused while he +filled and lit his pipe, then he left the house. Joe Hardwig's news had +disturbed him more than he cared to admit, and he did not want to +discuss it, even with his mother. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +JIM TRUSCOTT RETURNS + + +Dave was on the outskirts of the village when he fell in with Parson +Tom. Tom was on ahead, but he saw the great lumbering figure swinging +along the trail behind him, and waited. + +"Hello, Dave," he greeted him, as he came up. "It's ages since I've +seen you." + +The master of the mills laughed good-naturedly. + +"Sure," he said, "my loafing days are over. I'll be ground hollow +before I'm through. The grindstone's good and going. It's good to be at +work, Tom. I mean what you'd call at your great work. When I'm through +you shall have the finest church that red pine can build." + +"Ah, it's good to hear you talk like that. I take it things are running +smoothly. It's not many men who deserve to make millions, but I think +you are one of the few." + +Dave shook his head. + +"You're prejudiced about me, Tom," he replied smiling, "but I want that +money. And when I get it we'll carry out all our schemes. You know, the +schemes we've talked over and planned and planned. Well, when the time +comes, we won't forget 'em----" + +"Like most people do. Hello!" The parson was looking ahead in the +direction of a small crowd standing outside Harley-Smith's saloon. +There was an anxious look in his clear blue eyes, and some +comprehension. The crowd was swaying about in unmistakable fashion, and +experience told him that a fight was in progress. He had seen so many +fights in Malkern. Suddenly he turned to Dave-- + +"Where are you going?" he inquired. + +"To the depot." + +"Good. I'll just cut along over there. That must be stopped." + +Dave gazed at the swaying crowd. Several men were running to join it. +Then he looked down from his great height at the slim, athletic figure +of his friend. + +"Do you want any help?" he inquired casually. + +Parson Tom shook his head. + +"No," he said, with a smile of perfect confidence. "They're children, +all simple children. Big and awkward and unruly, if you like, but all +children. I can manage them." + +"I believe you can," said Dave. "Well, so long. Don't be too hard on +them. Remember they're children." + +Tom Chepstow laughed back at him as he hurried away. + +"All right. But unruly children need physical correction as well as +moral. And if it is necessary I shan't spare them." + +He went off at a run, and Dave went on to the depot. He knew his friend +down to his very core. There was no man in the village who was the +parson's equal in the noble art of self-defense. And it was part of his +creed to meet the rougher members of his flock on their own ground. He +knew that this militant churchman would stop that fight, and, if +necessary, bodily chastise the offenders. It was this wholesome +manliness that had so endeared the "fighting parson" to his people. +They loved him for his capacity, and consequently respected him far +more than they would have done the holiest preacher that ever breathed. +He was a man they understood. + +The spiritual care of a small lumbering village is not lightly to be +entered upon. A man must be peculiarly fitted for it. In such a place, +where human nature is always at its crudest; where muscle, and not +intellect, must always be the dominant note; where life is lived +without a thought for the future, and the present concern is only the +individual fitness to execute a maximum of labor, and so give +expression to a savage vanity in the triumph of brute force, the man +who would set out to guide his fellows must possess qualities all too +rare in the general run of clergy. His theology must be of the +simplest, broadest order. He must live the life of his flock, and teach +almost wholly by example. His preaching must be lit with a local +setting, and his brush must lay on the color of his people's every-day +life. + +Besides this, he must possess a tremendous moral and physical courage, +particularly the latter, for to the lumber-jack nothing else so +appeals. He must feel that he is in the presence of a man who is always +his equal, if not his superior, in those things he understands. Tom +Chepstow was all this. He was a lumberman himself at heart. He knew +every detail of the craft. He had lived that life all his manhood's +days. + +Then he possessed a rare gift in medicine. He had purposely studied it +and taken his degrees, for no one knew better than he the strength this +added to his position. He shed his healing powers upon his people, a +gift that reaped him a devotion no sanctity and godliness could ever +have brought him. Parson Tom was a practical Christian first, and +attended only to spiritual welfare when the body had been duly cared +for. + +Dave went on to the depot, where he despatched his messages. Then he +extracted from Jenkins Mudley all the information he possessed upon the +matter of the plate-layers' strike, and finally took the river trail +back to the mills. + +His way took him across the log bridge over the river, and here he +paused, leaning upon the rail, and gazed thoughtfully down the woodland +avenue which enclosed the turbulent stream. + +Somehow he could never cross that bridge without pausing to admire the +wonderful beauty of his little friend's surroundings. He always thought +of this river as his friend. How much it was his friend only he knew. +But for it, and its peculiarities, his work would be impossible. He did +not have to do as so many lumbermen have to, depend on the spring +freshet to carry his winter cut down to his mill. The melting snows of +the mountains kept the river flowing, a veritable torrent, during the +whole of the open season, and at such time he possessed in it a +never-failing transport line which cost him not one cent. + +The hour he had allowed for his dinner was not yet up, and he felt that +he could indulge himself a little longer, so he refilled his pipe and +smoked while he gazed contemplatively into the depths of the dancing +waters below him. + +But his day-dreaming was promptly interrupted, and the interruption was +the coming of Betty, on her way home to her dinner from the schoolhouse +up on the hillside. He had seen her only once since the day that +brought him the news of his contract. That was on the following Sunday, +when he went, as usual, to Tom Chepstow's for supper. + +Just at that moment Betty was the last person he wanted to see. That +was his first thought when he heard her step on the bridge. He had +forgotten that this was her way home, and that this was her +dinner-time. However, there was no sign of his reluctance in his face +when he greeted her. + +"Why, Betty," he said, as gently as his great voice would let him, "I +hadn't thought to see you coming this way." Then he broke off and +studied her pretty oval face more closely. "What's wrong?" he inquired +presently. "You look--you look kind of tired." + +He was quite right. The girl looked pale under her tan, and there was +an unusual darkness round her gentle brown eyes. She looked very tired, +in spite of the smile of welcome with which she greeted him. + +"Oh, I'm all right, Dave," she said at once. But her tone was +cheerless, in spite of her best effort. + +He shook his great head and knocked his pipe out. + +"There's something amiss, child. Guess maybe it's the heat." He turned +his eyes up to the blazing sun, as though to reassure himself that the +heat was there. + +Betty leant beside him on the rail. Her proximity, and the evident +sadness of her whole manner, made him realize that he must not stay +there. At that moment she looked such a pathetic little figure that he +felt he could not long be responsible for what he said. He longed to +take her in his arms and comfort her. + +He could think of nothing to say for a long time, but at last he broke +out with-- + +"You'd best not go back to the school this afternoon." + +But the girl shook her head. + +"It's not that," she said. Then she paused. Her eyes were fixed on the +rushing water as it flowed beneath the bridge. + +He watched her closely, and gradually a conviction began to grow in his +mind. + +"Dave," she went on at last, "we've always been such good friends, +haven't we? You've always been so patient and kind with me when I have +bothered you with my little troubles and worries. You never fail to +help me out. It seems to me I can never quite do without your help. +I--I"--she smiled more like her old self, and with relief the man saw +some of the alarming shadows vanishing from her face, "I don't think I +want to, either. I've had a long talk with Susan Hardwig this morning." + +"Ah!" + +The man's growing conviction had received confirmation. + +"What did that mean?" Betty asked quickly. + +Dave was staring out down the river. + +"Just nothing. Only I've had a goodish talk with Joe Hardwig." + +"Then I needn't go into the details. I've heard the news that Dick +Mansell has brought with him." + +It was a long time before either spoke again. For Dave there seemed so +little to say. What could he say? Sympathy was out of the question. He +had no right to blame Jim yet. Nor did he feel that he could hold out +hope to her, for in his heart he believed that the man's news was true. + +With Betty, she hardly knew how to express her feelings. She hardly +knew what her feelings were. At the time Mrs. Hardwig poured her tale +into her ears she had listened quite impersonally. Somehow the story +had not appealed to her as concerning herself, and her dominant thought +had been pity for the man. It was not until afterward, when she was +alone on her way to the school, that the full significance of it came +to her; and then it came as a shock. She remembered, all of a sudden, +that she was promised to Jim. That when Jim came back she was to marry +him. From that moment the matter had never been out of her mind; +through all her school hours it was with her, and her attention had +been so distracted from her work that she found her small pupils +getting out of hand. + +Yes, she was to marry Jim, and they told her he was a drunkard, a +gambler, and a "crook." She had given him her promise; she had sent him +away. It was her own doing. Her feelings toward him never came into her +thoughts. During the long five years of his absence he had become a +sort of habit to her. She had never thought of her real feelings after +the first month or two of his going. She was simply waiting for him, +and would marry him when he came. It was only now, when she heard this +story of him, that her feelings were called upon to assert themselves, +and the result was something very like horror at her own position. + +She remembered now her disappointment at the first realization of all +her hopes, when Jim had asked her to marry him. She had not understood +then, but now--now she did. She knew that she had never really loved +him. And at the thought of his return she was filled with horror and +dread. + +She was glad that she had met Dave; she had longed to see him. He was +the one person she could always lean on. And in her present trouble she +wanted to lean on him. + +"Dave," she began at last, in a voice so hopeless that it cut him to +the heart, "somehow I believe that story. That is, in the main. Don't +think it makes any difference to me. I shall marry him just the same. +Only I seem to see him in his real light now. He was always weak, only +I didn't see it then. He was not really the man to go out into the +world to fight alone. We were wrong. I was wrong. He should have stayed +here." + +"Yes," Dave nodded. + +"He must begin over again," she went on, after a pause. "When he comes +here we must help him to a fresh start, and we must blot his past out +of our minds altogether. There is time enough. He is young. Now I want +you to help me. We must ask him no questions. If he wants to speak he +can do so. Now that you are booming at the mills we can help him to +reopen his mill, and I know you can, and will, help him by putting work +in his way. All this is what I've been thinking out. When he comes, and +we are--married," there was the slightest possible hesitation before +the word, and Dave's quick ears and quicker senses were swift to hear +and interpret it, "I am going to help him with the work. I'll give up +my school. I've always had such a contingency in my mind. That's why I +got you to teach me your work when he first went away. Tell me, Dave, +you'll help me in this. You see the boy can't help his weakness. +Perhaps we are stronger than he, and between us we can help him." + +The man looked at her a long time in silence, and all the while his +loyal heart was crying out. His gray eyes shone with a light she did +not comprehend. She saw their fixed smile, and only read in them the +assent he never withheld from her. + +"I knew you would," she murmured. + +It was her voice that roused him. And he spoke just as she turned away +in the direction of the schoolhouse trail, whence proceeded the sound +of a horse galloping. + +"Yes, Betty--I'll help you sure," he said in his deep voice. + +"You'll help him, you mean," she corrected, turning back to him. + +But Dave ignored the correction. + +"Tell me, Betty," he went on again, this time with evident diffidence: +"you're glad he's coming back? You feel happy about--about getting +married? You--love him?" + +The girl stared straight up into the plain face. Her look was so +honest, so full of decision, that her reply left no more to be said. + +"Five years ago I gave him my promise. That promise I shall redeem, +unless Jim, himself, makes its fulfilment impossible." + +The man nodded. + +"You can come to me for anything you need for him," he said simply. + +Betty was about to answer with an outburst of gratitude when, with a +rush, a horseman came galloping round the bend of the trail and +clattered on to the bridge. At sight of the two figures standing by the +rail the horse jibbed, threw himself on to his haunches, and then shied +so violently that the rider was unseated and half out of the saddle, +clinging desperately to the animal's neck to right himself. And as he +hung there struggling, the string of filthy oaths that were hurled at +the horse, and any and everybody, was so foul that Betty tried to stop +her ears. + +Dave sprang at the horse and seized the bridle with one hand, with the +other he grabbed the horseman and thrust him up into the saddle. The +feat could only have been performed by a man of his herculean strength. + +"Cut that language, you gopher!" he roared into the fellow's ears as he +lifted him. + +"Cut the language!" cried the infuriated man. "What in hell are you +standing on a bridge spooning your girl for? This bridge ain't for that +sort of truck--it's for traffic, curse you!" + +By the time the man had finished speaking he had straightened up in the +saddle, and his face was visible to all. Dave jumped back, and Betty +gave a little cry. It was Jim Truscott! + +Yes, it was Jim Truscott, but so changed that even Betty could scarcely +believe the evidence of her eyes. In place of the bright, +clever-looking face, the slim figure she had always had in her mind +during the long five years of his absence, she now beheld a bloated, +bearded man, without one particle of the old refinement which had been +one of his most pronounced characteristics. It seemed incredible that +five years could have so changed him. Even his voice was almost +unrecognizable, so husky had it become. His eyes no longer had their +look of frank honesty, they were dull and lustreless, and leered +morosely. Her heart sank as she looked at him, and she remembered Dick +Mansell's story. + +All three stared for a moment without speaking. Then Jim broke into a +laugh so harsh that it made the girl shudder. + +"Well I'm damned!" he cried. "Of all the welcomes home this beats hell!" + +"Jim--oh, Jim!" + +The cry of horror and pain was literally wrung from the girl. Nor was +it without effect. The man seemed to realize his uncouthness, for he +suddenly took off his hat, and his face became serious. + +"I beg your pardon, Betty," he said apologetically. "I forgot where I +was. I forgot that the Yukon was behind me, and----" + +"That you're talking to the lady you're engaged to be married to," put +in Dave sharply. + +Dave's words drew the younger man's attention to himself. For a second +a malicious flash shone in the bloated eyes. Then he dropped them and +held out his hand. + +"How do, Dave?" he said coldly. + +Dave responded without any enthusiasm. He was chilled, chilled and +horrified, and he knew that Mansell's story was no exaggeration. He +watched Jim turn again to Betty. He saw the strained look in the girl's +eyes, and he waited. + +"I'll come along up to the house later," Jim said coolly. "Guess I'll +get along to the hotel and get cleaned some. I allow I ain't fit for +party calls at a hog pen just about now. So long." + +He jabbed his horse's sides with his heels and dashed across the +bridge. In a moment he was gone. + +It was some time before a word was spoken on the bridge. Dave was +waiting, and Betty could find no words. She was frightened. She wanted +to cry, and through it all her heart felt like lead in her bosom. But +her dominant feeling was fear. + +"Well, little Betty," said Dave presently, in that gentle protecting +manner he so often assumed toward her, "I must go on to the mills. What +are you going to do?" + +"I'm going home," she said; and to the keenly sympathetic ears of the +man the note of misery in her voice was all too plain. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +PARSON TOM INTERFERES + + +It was nearly five o'clock and the table was set for tea. Betty was +standing at the window staring thoughtfully out upon the valley. +Ordinarily her contemplation would have been one of delighted interest, +for the scene was her favorite view of the valley, where every feature +of it, the village, the mill, the river, assumed its most picturesque +aspect. + +She loved the valley with a deep affection. Unlike most people, who +tire of their childhood's surroundings and pant for fresh sights, fresh +fields in which to expand their thoughts and feelings, she clung to the +valley with all an artist's love for the beautiful, and a strength +inspired by the loyal affection of a simple woman. Her delight in her +surroundings amounted almost to a passion. To her this valley was a +treasured possession. The river was a friend, a fiery, turbulent +friend, and often she had declared, when in a whimsical mood, one to +whom she could tell her innermost secrets without fear of their being +passed on, in confidence, to another, or of having them flung back in +her face when spite stirred its tempestuous soul. + +She knew her river's shortcomings, she knew its every mood. It was +merely a torrent, a strenuous mountain torrent, but to her it possessed +a real personality. In the spring flood it was like some small +individual bursting with its own importance, with its vanity, with +resentment at the restraint of the iron hand of winter, from which it +had only just torn itself loose, and stirred to the depths of its +frothy soul with an overwhelming desire for self-assertion. Often she +had watched the splendid destruction of which it was capable at such a +time. She had seen the forest giants go down at the roar of its +battle-cry. She had often joined the villagers, standing fearful and +dismayed, watching its mounting waters lest their homes should be +devoured by the insatiable little monster, and filled with awe at its +magnificent bluster. + +Then, in the extreme heat of the late summer, when autumn had tinged +the valley to a glorious gold and russet, she had just as often seen +the reverse side of the picture. No longer could the river draw on the +vast supplies of the melting mountain snows, and so it was doomed to +fall a prey to the mighty grip of winter, and, as if in anticipation of +its end, it would sing its song of sadness as it sobbed quietly over +its fallen greatness, sighing dismally amongst the debris which in the +days of its power it had so wantonly torn from its banks. + +There was a great deal of the girl's character in her love for the +river. She possessed an enthusiastic admiration for that strength which +fights, fights until the last drop of blood, the last atom of power is +expended. Fallen greatness evoked her enthusiasm as keenly as success, +only that the enthusiasm was of a different nature. With her it was +better to have striven with all one's might and encountered disaster +than to have lived fallow, a life of the most perfect rectitude. Her +twenty-seven years of life had set her thrilling with a mental and +physical virility which was forever urging her, and steadily moulding +her whole outlook upon life, even though that outlook carried her no +farther than the confines of her beautiful sunlit valley. + +Something of this was stirring within her now. She was not thinking of +that which her eyes looked upon. She was thinking of the man to whom +she had given her promise, her woman's promise, which carries with it +all the best a woman has to give. She was no weakling, dreaming +regretfully of all that might have been; she had no thought of +retracting because in her heart she knew she had made a mistake. She +was reviewing the man as she had seen him that noon, and considering +the story of his doings as she had been told them, quietly making up +her mind to her own line of action. + +He was presently to come up to her home to have tea with them, and she +would be given the opportunity of seeing the man that five years' +absence in the wilds had made of him. Once or twice she almost +shuddered as the details of their meeting on the bridge obtruded +themselves. She tried to shut them out. She understood the rough side +of men, for she lived amongst a people in whom it was difficult enough +to trace even a semblance of gentleness. She allowed for the moment of +provocation when the man's horse had shied and unseated him. She +realized the natural inclination it would inspire to forcibly, even if +irresponsibly, protest. Even the manner of his protest she condoned. +But his subsequent attitude, his appearance, and his manner toward +herself, these were things which had an ugly tone, and for which she +could find no extenuation. + +However, it should all be settled that afternoon. She unfolded and +straightened out a piece of paper she had been abstractedly crumpling +in her hand. She glanced at the unsteady writing on it, a writing she +hardly recognized as Jim's. + + +"Will come up to tea this afternoon. Sorry for this morning.--JIM." + + +That was the note he had sent her soon after she had reached home. +There was no word of affection in it. Nothing but a bare statement and +an apology which scarcely warranted the name. To her it seemed to have +been prompted by the man's realization of an unpleasant and undesired +duty to be performed. The few letters she had received from him +immediately before his return had borne a similar tone of indifference, +and once or twice she had felt that she ought to write and offer him +his freedom. This, however, she had never done, feeling that by doing +so she might be laying herself open to misinterpretation. No, if their +engagement were distasteful to him, it must be Jim who broke it. Unlike +most women, she would rather he threw her over than bear the stigma of +having jilted him. She had thought this all out very carefully. She had +an almost mannish sense of honor, just as she possessed something of a +man's courage to carry out her obligations. + +She glanced over the tea-table. There were four places set. The table +was daintily arranged, and though the china was cheap, and there was no +display of silver, or any elaborate furnishings, it looked attractive. +The bread and butter was delicate, the assortment of home-made cakes +luscious, the preserves the choicest from her aunt's store-cupboard. +Betty had been careful, too, that the little sitting-room, with its +simple furniture and unpretentious decorations, should be in the nicest +order. She had looked to everything so that Jim's welcome should be as +cordial as kindly hearts could make it. And now she was awaiting his +coming. + +The clock on the sideboard chimed five, and a few moments later her +uncle came in. + +"What about tea, Betty?" he inquired, glancing with approval at the +careful preparations for the meal. + +"I think we ought to wait," she replied, with a wistful smile into his +keen blue eyes. "I sent word to Jim for five o'clock--but--well, +perhaps something has detained him." + +"No doubt," observed the parson dryly. "I dare say five minutes added +on to five years means nothing to Jim." + +He didn't approve the man's attitude at all. All his ideas on the +subject of courtship had been outraged at his delay in calling. He had +been in the village nearly five hours. + +The girl rearranged the teacups. + +"You mustn't be hard on him," she said quietly. "He had to get cleaned +up and settled at the hotel. I don't suppose he'd care to come here +like--like----" + +"It doesn't take a man five hours to do all that," broke in her uncle, +with some warmth. Then, as he faced the steady gaze of the girl's brown +eyes, he abruptly changed his tone and smiled at her. "Yes, of course +we'll wait. We'll give him half an hour's grace, and then--I'll fetch +him." + +Betty smiled. There was a characteristic snap in the parson's final +declaration. The militant character of the man was always very near the +surface. He was the kindest and best of men, but anything suggesting +lack of straightforwardness in those from whom he had a right to expect +the reverse never failed to rouse his ire. + +For want of something better to do Betty was carrying out a further +rearrangement of the tea-table, and presently her uncle questioned her +shrewdly. + +"You don't seem very elated at Jim's return?" he said. + +"I am more than pleased," she replied gravely. + +Parson Tom took up his stand at the window with his back turned. + +"When I was engaged to your aunt," he said, smiling out at the valley, +"if I had been away for five years and suddenly returned, she would +probably have had about three fits, a scene of shrieking hysteria, and +gone to bed for a week. By all of which I mean she would have been +simply crazy with delight. It must be the difference of temperament, +eh?" He turned round and stood smiling keenly across at the girl's +serious face. + +"Yes, uncle, I don't think I am demonstrative." + +"Do you want to marry him?" + +The man's eyes were perfectly serious now. + +"I am going to marry him--unless----" + +"Unless?" + +"Unless he refuses to marry me." + +"Do you want to marry him, my dear? That was my question." + +Her uncle had crossed over to her and stood looking down at her with +infinite tenderness in his eyes. She returned his gaze, and slowly a +smile replaced her gravity. + +"You are very literal, uncle," she said gently. "If you want an +absolutely direct reply it is 'Yes.'" + +But her uncle was not quite satisfied. + +"You--love him?" he persisted. + +But this catechism was too much for Betty. She was devoted to her +uncle, and she knew that his questions were prompted by the kindliest +motives. But in this matter she felt that she was entirely justified in +thinking and acting for herself. + +"You don't quite understand," she said, with just a shade of +impatience. "Jim and I are engaged, and you must leave us to settle +matters ourselves. If you press me I shall speak the plain truth, and +then you will have a wrong impression of the position. I perfectly +understand my own feelings. I am not blinded by them. I shall act as I +think best, and you must rely on my own judgment. I quite realize that +you want to help me. But neither you nor any one else can do that, +uncle. Ah, here is auntie," she exclaimed, with evident relief. + +Mrs. Chepstow came in. She was hot from her work in the kitchen, where +she was operating, with the aid of her "hired" girl, a large bake of +cakes for the poorer villagers. She looked at the clock sharply. + +"Why, it's half-past five and no tea," she exclaimed, her round face +shining, and her gentle eyes wide open. "Where's Jim? Not here? Why, I +am astonished. Betty, what are you thinking of?--and after five years, +too." + +"Betty hasn't got him in proper harness yet," laughed the parson, but +there was a look in his eyes which was not in harmony with his laugh. + +"Harness? Don't be absurd, Tom." Then she turned to Betty. "Did you +tell him five?" + +Tom Chepstow picked up his hat, and before the girl could answer he was +at the door. + +"I'm going to fetch him," he said, and was gone before Betty's protest +reached him. + +"I do wish uncle wouldn't interfere," the girl said, as her aunt +laughed at her husband's precipitate exit. + +"Interfere, my dear!" she exclaimed. "You can't stop him. He's got a +perverted notion that we women are incapable of taking care of +ourselves. He goes through life determined to fight our battles. +Determined to help us out when we don't need it. He's helped me 'out' +all our married life. He spends his life doing it, and I often wish +he'd--he'd leave me 'in' sometimes. I've never seen a man who could +upset a woman's plans more completely than your uncle, and all with the +best intention. One of these days I'll start to help him out, and then +we'll see how he likes it," she laughed good-humoredly. "You know, if +he finds Jim he's sure to upset the boy, and he'll come back thinking +he's done his duty by you. Poor Tom, and he does mean so well." + +"I know he does, auntie, and that's why we all love him so. Everybody +loves him for it, He never thinks of himself. It's always others, +and----" + +"Yes, my dear, you're right. But all the same I think he's right just +now. Why isn't Jim here? Why didn't he come straight away? Why has he +been in Malkern five hours before he comes to see you? Betty, my child, +I've not said a word all these years. I've left you to your own affairs +because I know your good sense; but, in view of the stories that have +reached us about Jim, I feel that the time has come for me to speak. +Are you going to verify those stories?" + +Mrs. Chepstow established her comfortable form in a basket chair, which +audibly protested at the weight it was called upon to bear. She folded +her hands in her lap, and, assuming her most judicial air, waited for +the girl's answer. Betty was thinking of her meeting with Jim on the +bridge. + +"I shall hear what he has to say," she said decidedly, after a long +pause. + +Her aunt stared. + +"You're going to let him tell you what he likes?" she cried in +astonishment. + +"He can tell me what he chooses, or--he need tell me nothing." + +Her aunt flushed indignantly. + +"You will never be so foolish," she said, exasperated. + +"Auntie, if Uncle Tom had been away five years, would you ask him for +proof of his life all that time?" Betty demanded with some warmth. + +The other stirred uneasily. + +"That depends," she said evasively. + +"No, no, auntie, it doesn't. You would never question uncle. You are a +woman, and just as foolish and stupid about that sort of thing as the +rest of us. We must take our men on trust. They are men, and their +lives are different from ours. We cannot judge them, or, at any rate, +we would rather not. Why does a woman cling to a scoundrelly husband +who ill-treats her and makes her life one long round of worry, and even +misery? Is it because she simply has to? No. It is because he is her +man. He is hers, and she would rather have his unkindness than another +man's caresses. Foolish we may be, and I am not sure but that we would +rather be foolish--where our men are concerned. Jim has come back. His +past five years are his. I am going to take up my little story where it +was broken five years ago. The stories I have heard are nothing to me. +So, if you don't mind, dear, we will close the subject." + +"And--and you love him?" questioned the elder woman. + +But the girl had turned to the window. She pointed out down the road in +the direction of the village. + +"Here is uncle returning," she said, ignoring the question. "He's +hurrying. Why--he's actually running!" + +"Running?" + +Mrs. Chepstow bustled to the girl's side, and both stood watching the +vigorous form of the parson racing up the trail. Just as he came to the +veranda they turned from the window and their eyes met. Betty's were +full of pained apprehension, while her aunt's were alight with +perplexed curiosity. Betty felt that she knew something of the meaning +of her uncle's undignified haste. She did not actually interpret it, +she knew it meant disaster, but the nature of that disaster never +entered into her thought. Something was wrong, she knew instinctively; +and, with the patience of strength, she made no attempt to even guess +at it, but simply waited. Her aunt rushed at the parson as he entered +the room and flung aside his soft felt hat. Betty gazed mutely at the +flaming anger she saw in his blue eyes, as his wife questioned him. + +"What is it?" she demanded. "What has happened?" + +Parson Tom drew a chair up to the table and flung himself into it. + +"We'll have tea," he said curtly. + +His wife obediently took her seat. + +"And Jim?" she questioned. + +The angry blue eyes still flashed. + +"We won't wait for him." + +Then Betty came to the man's side and laid one small brown hand firmly +on his shoulder. + +"You--you saw him?" she demanded. + +Her uncle shook her hand off almost roughly. + +"Yes--I saw him," he said. + +"And why isn't he here?" the girl persisted without a tremor, without +even noticing his rebuff. + +"Because he's lying on his bed at the hotel--drunk. Blind +drunk,--confound him." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE WORK AT THE MILLS + + +It was sundown. The evening shadows, long drawn out, were rapidly +merging into the purple shades of twilight. The hush of night was +stealing upon the valley. + +There was one voice alone, one discordant note, to jar upon the peace +of Nature's repose. It was the voice of Dave's mills, a voice that was +never silent. The village, with all its bustling life, its noisy +boarding-houses, its well-filled drinking booths, its roystering +lumber-jacks released from their day's toil, was powerless to disturb +that repose. But the harsh voice of the driving machinery rose dominant +above all other sounds. Repose was impossible, even for Nature, where +the restless spirit of Dave's enterprise prevailed. + +The vast wooden structures of the mills, acres of them, stood like some +devouring growth at the very core of Nature's fair body. It almost +seemed like a living organism feeding upon all the best she had to +yield. Day and night the saws, like the gleaming fangs of a voracious +life, tore, devoured, digested, and the song of its labors droned +without ceasing. + +Controlling, directing, ordering to the last detail, Dave sat in his +unpretentious office. Love of the lumberman's craft ran hot in his +veins. He had been born and bred to it. He had passed through its every +phase. He was a sawyer whose name was historical in the forests of +Oregon. As a cant-hook man he had few equals. As foreman he could +extract more work from these simple woodsman giants than could those he +employed in a similar capacity. + +In work he was inevitable. His men knew that when he demanded they must +yield. In this direction he displayed no sympathy, no gentleness. He +knew the disposition of the lumber-jack. These woodsmen rate their +employer by his driving power. They understand and expect to be ruled +by a stern discipline, and if this treatment is not forthcoming, their +employer may just as well abandon his enterprise for all the work they +will yield him. + +But though this was Dave in his business, it was the result of his +tremendous force of character rather than the nature of the man. If he +drove, it was honestly, legitimately. He paid for the best a man could +give him, and he saw that he got it. Sickness was sure of ready +sympathy, not outspoken, but practical. He was much like the prairie +man with his horse. His beast is cared for far better than its master +cares for himself, but it must work, and work enthusiastically to the +last ounce of its power. Fail, and the horse must go. So it was with +Dave. The man who failed him would receive his "time" instantly. There +was no question, no excuse. And every lumber-jack knew this and gladly +entered his service. + +Dave was closeted with his foreman, Joel Dawson, receiving the day's +report. + +"The tally's eighty thousand," Dawson was saying. + +Dave looked up from his books. His keen, humorous eyes surveyed the +man's squat figure. + +"Not enough," he said. + +"She's pressing hard now," came the man's rejoinder, almost defensively. + +"She's got to do twenty thousand more," retorted Dave finally. + +"Then y'll have to give her more saw room." + +"We'll see to it. Meanwhile shove her. How are the logs running? Is +Mason keeping the length?" + +"Guess he cayn't do better. We ain't handled nothin' under eighty foot." + +"Good. They're driving down the river fast?" + +"The boom's full, an' we're workin' 'em good an' plenty." The man +paused. "'Bout more saw beds an' rollers," he went on a moment later. +"Ther' ain't an inch o' space, boss. We'll hev to build." + +Dave shook his head and faced round from his desk. + +"There's no time. You'll have to take out the gang saws and replace +them for log trimming." + +Dawson spat into the spittoon. He eyed the ugly, powerful young +features of his boss speculatively while he made a swift mental +calculation. + +"That'll mebbe give us eight thousand more. 'Tain't enough, I guess," +he said emphatically. "Say, there's that mill up river. Her as belongs +to Jim Truscott. If we had her runnin' I 'lows we'd handle twenty-five +thousand on a day and night shift. Givin' us fifty all told." + +Dave's eyes lit. + +"I've thought of that," he said. "That'll put us up with a small +margin. I'll see what can be done. How are the new boys making? I've +had a good report from Mason up on No. 1 camp. He's transferred his +older hands to new camps, and has the new men with him. He's started to +cut on Section 80. His estimate is ten million in the stump on that +cut; all big stuff. He's running a big saw-gang up there. The roads +were easy making and good for travoying, and most of the timber is +within half a mile of the river. We don't need to worry about the +'drive.' He's got the stuff plenty, and all the 'hands' he needs. It's +the mill right here that's worrying." + +Dawson took a fresh chew. + +"Yes, it's the mill, I guess," he said slowly. "That an' this yer +strike. We're goin' to feel it--the strike, I mean. The engineers and +firemen are going 'out,' I hear, sure." + +"That doesn't hit us," said Dave sharply. But there was a keen look of +inquiry in his eyes. + +"Don't it?" Dawson raised his shaggy eyebrows. + +"Our stuff is merely to be placed on board here. The government will +see to its transport." + +The foreman shook his head. + +"What o' them firemen an' engineers in the mill? Say, they're mostly +union men, an'----" + +"I see." Dave became thoughtful. + +"Guess that ain't the only trouble neither," Dawson went on, warming. +"Strikes is hell-fire anyways. Ther' ain't no stoppin' 'em when they +git good an' goin'. Ther's folk who'd hate work wuss'n pizin when +others, of a different craft, are buckin'. I hate strikes, anyway, an' +I'll feel a sight easier when the railroaders quits." + +"You're alarming yourself without need," Dave said easily, closing his +books and rising from his seat. "Guess I'll get to supper. And see you +remember I look to you to shove her. Are you posting the 'tally'?" + +"Sure. They're goin' up every shift." + +A few minutes later the foreman took his departure to hand over to +Simon Odd, who ran the mills at night. Dave watched him go. Then, +instead of going off to his supper, he sat down again. + +Dawson's warning was not without its effect on him, in spite of the +easy manner in which he had set it aside. If his mills were to be +affected by the strike it would be the worst disaster that could +befall--short of fire. To find himself with millions of feet coming +down the river on the drive and no possibility of getting it cut would +mean absolute ruin. Yes, it was a nasty thought. A thought so +unpleasant that he promptly set it aside and turned his attention to +more pleasant matters. + +One of the most pleasant that occurred to him was the condition of +things in the village. Malkern had already begun to boom as the first +result of his sudden burst of increased work. Outside capital was +coming in for town plots, and several fresh buildings were going up. +Addlestone Chicks, the dry-goods storekeeper, was extending his +premises to accommodate the enormous increase in his trade. Two more +saloons were being considered, both to be built by men from Calford, +and the railroad had promised two mails a day instead of one. + +Dave thought of these things with the satisfaction of a man who is +steadily realizing his ambitions. It only needed his success for +prosperity to come automatically to the village in the valley. That was +it, his success. This thought brought to his mind again the matter of +Jim Truscott's mill, and this, again, set him thinking of Jim himself. + +He had seen nothing of Jim since his meeting with him on the bridge, +and the memory of that meeting was a dark shadow in his recollection. +Since that time two days had passed, two days spent in arduous labor, +when there had been no time for more than a passing thought for +anything else. He had seen no one outside of his mills. He had seen +neither Betty nor her uncle; no one who could tell him how matters were +going with the prodigal. He felt somehow that he had been neglectful, +he felt that he had wrongfully allowed himself to be swamped in the +vortex of the whirling waters of his labors. He had purposely shut out +every other consideration. + +Now his mind turned upon Betty, and he suddenly decided to take half an +hour's respite and visit Harley-Smith's saloon. He felt that this would +be the best direction in which to seek Jim Truscott. Five years ago it +would have been different. + +He rose from his seat and stretched his cumbersome body. Young as he +was, he felt stiff. His tremendous effort was making itself felt. +Picking up his pipe he lit it, and as he dropped the charred end of the +match in the spittoon a knock came at the door. It opened in answer to +his call, and in the half-light of the evening he recognized the very +man whom he had just decided to seek. + +It was Jim Truscott who stood in the doorway peering into the darkened +room. And at last his searching eyes rested on the enormous figure of +the lumberman. Dave was well in the shadow, and what light came in +through the window fell full upon the newcomer's face. + +In the brief silence he had a good look at him. He saw that now he was +clean-shaven, that his hair had been trimmed, that his clothes were +good and belonged to the more civilized conditions of city life. He was +good-looking beyond a doubt; a face, he thought, to catch a young +girl's fancy. There was something romantic in the dark setting of the +eyes, the keen aquiline nose, the broad forehead. It was only the lower +part of the face that he found fault with. There was that vicious +weakness about the mouth and chin, and it set him pondering. There were +the marks of dissipation about the eyes too, only now they were a +hundredfold more pronounced. Where before the rounded cheeks had once +so smoothly sloped away, now there were puffings, with deep, +unwholesome furrows which, in a man of his age, had no right to be +there. + +Jim was the first to speak, and his manner was almost defiant. + +"Well?" he ejaculated. + +"Well?" responded Dave; and the newly-opened waters suddenly froze over +again. + +They measured each other, eye to eye. Both had the memory of their +meeting two days ago keenly alive in their thought. Finally Jim broke +into a laugh that sounded harshly. + +"After five years' absence your cordiality is overwhelming," he said. + +"I seem to remember meeting you on the bridge two days ago," retorted +Dave. + +Then he turned to his desk and lit the lamp. The mill siren hooted out +its mournful cry. Its roar was deafening, and answered as an excuse for +the silence which remained for some moments between the two men. When +the last echo had died out Truscott spoke again. Evidently he had +availed himself of those seconds to decide on a more conciliatory +course. + +"That's nerve-racking," he said lightly. + +"Yes, if your nerves aren't in the best condition," replied Dave. Then +he indicated a chair and both men seated themselves. + +Truscott made himself comfortable and lit a cigar. + +"Well, Dave," he said pleasantly, "after five years I return here to +find everybody talking of you, of your work, of the fortune you are +making, of the prosperity of the village--which, by the way, is +credited to your efforts. You are the man of the moment in the valley; +you are it!" + +Dave nodded. + +"Things are doing." + +"Doing, man! Why, it's the most wonderful thing. I leave a little dozy +village, and I come back to a town thrilling with a magnificent +prosperity, with money in plenty for everybody, and on every hand talk +of investment, and dreams of fortunes to be made. I'm glad I came. I'm +glad I left that benighted country of cold and empty stomachs and +returned to this veritable Tom Tiddler's ground. I too intend to share +in the prosperity you have brought about. Dave, you are a wonder." + +"I thought you'd come to talk of other matters," said Dave quietly. + +His words had ample effect. The enthusiasm dropped from the other like +a cloak. His face lost its smile, and his eyes became watchful. + +"You mean----" + +"Betty," said Dave shortly. + +Truscott stirred uneasily. Dave's directness was a little +disconcerting. Suddenly the latter leant forward in his chair, and his +steady eyes held his visitor. + +"Five years ago, Jim, you went away, and, going, you left Betty to my +care--for you. That child has always been in my thoughts, and though +I've never had an opportunity to afford her the protection you asked of +me, it has not been my fault. She has never once needed it. You went +away to make money for her, so that when you came back you could marry +her. I remember our meeting two days ago, and it's not my intention to +say a thing of it. I have been so busy since then that I have seen +nobody who could tell me of either her or you, so I know nothing of how +your affairs stand. But if you've anything to say on the matter now I'm +prepared to listen. Did you make good up there in the Yukon?" + +Dave's tone was the tone Truscott had always known. It was kindly, it +was strong with honesty and purpose. He felt easier for it, and his +relief sounded in his reply. + +"I can't complain," he said, settling himself more comfortably in his +chair. + +"I'm glad," said Dave simply. "I was doubtful of the experiment, +but--well, I'm glad. And----?" + +Suddenly Jim sprang to his feet and began to pace the room. Dave +watched him. He was reading him. He was studying the nervous movements, +and interpreting them as surely as though their meaning were written +large in the plainest lettering. It was the same man he had known five +years ago--the same, only with a difference. He beheld the weakness he +had realized before, but now, where there had been frank honesty in all +his movements and expressions, there was a furtive undercurrent which +suggested only too clearly the truth of the stories told about him. + +"Dave," he burst out at last, coming to a sudden stand in front of him. +"I've come to you about Betty. I've come to you to tell you all the +regret I have at that meeting of ours on the bridge, and all I said at +the time. I want to tell you that I'm a rotten fool and blackguard. +That I haven't been near Betty since I came back. I was to have gone to +tea that afternoon, and didn't do so because I got blind drunk instead, +and when her uncle came to fetch me I told him to go to hell, and +insulted him in a dozen ways. I want to tell you that while I was away +I practically forgot Betty, I didn't care for her any longer, that I +scarcely even regarded our engagement as serious. I feel I must tell +you this. And now it is all changed. I have seen her and I want her. I +love her madly, and--and I have spoiled all my chances. She'll never +speak to me again. I am a fool and a crook--an utter wrong 'un, but I +want her. I must have her!" + +The man paused breathlessly. His words carried conviction. His manner +was passion-swept There could be no doubt as to his sincerity, or of +the truth of the momentary remorse conveyed in his self-accusation. + +Dave's teeth shut tight upon his pipe-stem. + +"And you did all that?" he inquired with a tenseness that made his +voice painfully harsh. + +"Yes, yes, I did. Dave, you can't say any harder things to me than I've +said to myself. When I drink there's madness in my blood that drives me +where it will." + +The other suddenly rose from his seat and towered over him. The look on +his rugged face was one of mastery. His personality dominated Truscott +at that moment in a manner that made him shrink before his steady, +luminous eyes. + +"How've you earned your living?" he demanded sharply. + +"I'm a gambler," came Jim's uneasy reply, the truth forced from him +against his will. + +"You're a drunkard and a crook?" + +"I'm a fool. I told you." + +Dave accepted the admission. + +"Then for God's sake get out of this village, and write and release +Betty from her engagement. You say you love her. Prove it by releasing +her, and be a man." + +Dave's voice rang out deep with emotion. At that moment he was thinking +of Betty, and not of the man before him. He was not there to judge him, +his only thought was of the tragedy threatening the girl. + +Truscott had suddenly become calm, and his eyes had again assumed that +furtive watchfulness as he looked up into the larger man's face. He +shook his head. + +"I can't give her up," he said obstinately, after a pause. + +Dave sat down again, watching the set, almost savage expression of the +other's face. The position was difficult; he was not only dealing with +this man, but with a woman whose sense of duty and honor was such that +left him little hope of settling the matter as he felt it should be +settled. Finally he decided to appeal again to the man's better nature. + +"Jim," he said solemnly, "you come here and confess yourself a crook, +and, if not a drunkard, at least a man with a bad tendency that way. +You say you love Betty, in spite of having forgotten her while you were +away. On your conscience I ask you, can you wilfully drag this girl, +who has known only the purest, most innocent, and God-fearing life, +into the path you admit you have been, are treading? Can you drag her +down with you? Can you in your utter selfishness take her from a home +where she is surrounded by all that can keep a woman pure and good? I +don't believe it. That is not the Jim I used to know. Jim, take it from +me, there is only one decent course open to you, one honest one. Leave +her alone, and go from here yourself. You have no right to her so long +as your life is what it is." + +"But my life is going to be that no longer," Truscott broke in with +passionate earnestness. "Dave, help me out in this. For God's sake, do. +It will be the making of me. I have money now, and I want to get rid of +the old life. I, too, want to be decent. I do. I swear it. Give me this +chance to straighten myself. I know your influence with her. You can +get her to excuse that lapse. She will listen to you. My God! Dave, you +don't know how I love that girl." + +While the lumberman listened his heart hardened. He understood the +selfishness, the weakness underlying this man's passion. He understood +more than that, Betty was no longer the child she was five years ago, +but a handsome woman of perfect moulding. And, truth to tell, he felt +this sudden reawakening of the man's passion was not worthy of the name +of the love he claimed for it, but rather belonged to baser +inspiration. But his own feelings prevented his doing what he would +like to have done. He felt that he ought to kick the man out of his +office, and have him hunted out of the village. But years ago he had +given his promise of help, and a promise was never a light thing with +him. And besides that, he realized his own love for Betty, and could +not help fearing that his judgment was biassed by it. In the end he +gave the answer which from the first he knew he must give. + +"If you mean that," he said coldly, "I will do what I can for you." + +Jim's face lit, and he held out his hand impulsively. + +"Thanks, Dave," he cried, his whole face clearing and lighting up as if +by magic. "You're a bully friend. Shake!" + +But the other ignored the outstretched hand. Somehow he felt he could +no longer take it in friendship. Truscott saw the coldness in his eyes, +and instantly drew his hand away. He moved toward the door. + +"Will you see her to-night?" he asked over his shoulder. + +"I can't say. You'll probably hear from her." + +At the door the man turned, and Dave suddenly recollected something. + +"Oh, by the way," he said, still in his coldest manner, "I'd like to +buy that old mill of yours--or lease it. I don't mind which. How much +do you want for it?" + +Jim flashed a sharp glance at him. + +"My old mill?" Then he laughed peculiarly. "What do you want with that?" + +The other considered for a moment. + +"My mill hasn't sufficient capacity," he said at last. "You see, my +contract is urgent. It must be completed before winter shuts +down--under an enormous penalty. We are getting a few thousand a day +behind on my calculations. Your mill will put me right, with a margin +to spare against accidents." + +"I see." And the thoughtfulness of Truscott's manner seemed +unnecessary. He avoided Dave's eyes. "You're under a penalty, eh? I +s'pose the government are a hard crowd to deal with?" + +Dave nodded. + +"If I fail it means something very like--ruin," he said, almost as +though speaking to himself. + +Truscott whistled. + +"Pretty dangerous, traveling so near the limit," he said. + +"Yes. Well? What about the mill?" + +"I must think it over. I'll let you know." + +He turned and left the office without another word, and Dave stared +after him, speechless with surprise and disgust. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +AT THE CHURCH BAZAAR + + +Two days later brought Tom Chepstow's church bazaar. Dave had not yet +had the opportunity of interceding with Betty and her uncle on behalf +of Jim, but to-day he meant to fulfil his obligations as Tom's chief +supporter in church affairs, and, at the same time, to do what he could +for the man he had promised to help. + +The whole morning the valley was flooded with a tremendous summer +deluge. It was just as though the heavens had opened and emptied their +waters upon the earth. Dave viewed the prospect with no very friendly +eye. He knew the summer rains only too well; the possibilities of flood +were well grounded, and just now he had no desire to see the river rise +higher than it was at present. Still, as yet there was no reason for +alarm. This was the first rain, and the glass was rising. + +By noon the clouds broke, and the barometer's promise was fulfilled, so +that, by the time he had clad himself in his best broadcloth, he left +his office under a radiant sky. In spite of the wet under foot it was a +delight to be abroad. The air was fresh and sparkling; the dripping +trees seemed to be studded with thousands of diamonds as the poising +rain-drops glistened in the blazing sun. The valley rang with the music +of the birds, and the health-giving scent of the pine woods was wafted +upon the gentlest of zephyrs. Dave's soul was in perfect sympathy with +the beauties about him. To him there could be no spot on God's earth so +fair and beautiful as this valley. + +Passing the mill on his way out of the yards he was met by Joel Dawson, +whose voice greeted him with a note of satisfaction in it. + +"She's goin' full, boss," he said. "We set the last saws in her this +mornin' an' she's steaming hard. Ther' ain't nothin' idle. Ther' ain't +a' band' or 'gang' left in her." + +And Dave without praise expressed his satisfaction at the rapidity with +which his orders had been carried out. This was his way. Dawson was an +excellent foreman, and his respect for his "boss" was largely based on +the latter's capacity to extract work out of his men. While praise +might have been pleasant to him, it would never have fallen in with his +ideas of how the mills should be run. His pride was in the work, and to +keep his respect at concert pitch it was necessary that he should feel +that his "boss" was rather favoring him by entrusting to him the more +important part of the work. + +Dave passed out of the yards certain that nothing would be neglected in +his absence. If things went wrong Dawson would receive no more +consideration than a common lumber-jack, and Dawson had no desire to +receive his "time." + +The Meeting House stood slightly apart from the rest of the village. It +was a large, staring frame building, void of all pretentiousness and +outward devotional sign. The weather-boarding was painted; at least, it +had been. But the winter snows had long since robbed it of its original +terra-cotta coloring and left its complexion a drab neutral tint. The +building stood bare, with no encompassing fence, and its chief +distinctive features were a large doorway, a single row of windows set +at regular intervals, and a pitched roof. + +As Dave drew near he saw a considerable gathering of men and horses +about the doorway and tie-post. He was greeted cordially as he came up. +These men were unfeignedly glad to see him, not only because he was +popular, but in the hopes that he would show more courage than they +possessed, and lead the way within to the feminine webs being woven for +their enmeshing. + +He chatted for some moments, then, as no one seemed inclined to leave +the sunshine for the tempting baits so carefully set out inside the +building, he turned to Jenkins Mudley-- + +"Are you fellows scared of going in?" he inquired, with his large laugh. + +Jenkins shook his head shamefacedly, while Harley-Smith, loud and +vulgar, with a staring diamond pin gleaming in his necktie, answered +for him. + +"'Tain't that," he said. "His wife's kind o' dep'ty for him. She's in +ther' with his dollars." + +"And you?" Dave turned on him quickly. + +"Me? Oh, I ain't no use for them cirkises. Too much tea an' cake an' +kiddies to it for me. Give me a few of the 'jacks' around an' I kind o' +feel it homely." + +"Say, they ain't got a table for 'draw' in there, have they?" inquired +Checks facetiously. "That's what Harley-Smith needs." + +Dave smilingly shook his head. + +"I don't think there's any gambling about this--unless it's the bran +tub. But that is scarcely a gamble. It's a pretty sure thing you get +bested over it. Still, there might be a raffle, or an auction. How +would that do you, Harley-Smith?" + +The saloon-keeper laughed boisterously. He liked being the object of +interest; he liked being noticed so much by Dave. It tickled his vulgar +vanity. But, to his disappointment, the talk was suddenly shifted into +another channel by Checks. The dry-goods merchant turned to Dave with +very real interest. + +"Talking of 'draw,'" he said pointedly, "you know that shanty right +opposite me. It's been empty this year an' more. Who was it lived +there? Why, the Sykeses, sure. You know it, it's got a shingle roof, +painted red." + +"Yes, I know," replied Dave. "It belongs to me. I let Sykes live there +because there wasn't another house available at the time. I used to +keep it as a storehouse." + +"Sure, that's it," exclaimed Checks. "Well, there's some one running a +game there at night. I've seen the boys going in, and it's been lit up. +Some guy is running a faro bank, or something of the sort. My wife +swears it's young Jim Truscott. She's seen him going in for the last +two nights. She says he's always the first one in and the last to +leave." + +"Psha!" Jenkins Mudley exclaimed, with fine scorn. "Jim ain't no +gambler. I'd bet it's some crook in from Calford. There's lots of that +kidney coming around, seeing the place is on the boom. The bees allus +gets around wher' the honey's made." + +"Grows," suggested Checks amiably. + +Harley-Smith laughed loudly. + +"Say, bully for you," he cried sarcastically. "Young Jim ain't no +gambler? Gee! I've see him take a thousand of the best bills out of the +boys at 'craps' right there in my bar. Gambler? Well, I'd snigger!" + +And he illustrated his remark loudly and long. + +Dave had dropped out of the conversation at the mention of Jim +Truscott's name. He felt that he had nothing to say. And he hoped to +avoid being again brought into it. But Jenkins had purposely told him. +Jenkins was a rigid churchman, and he knew that Dave was also a strong +supporter of Parson Tom's. His wife had been very scandalized at the +opening of a gambling house directly opposite their store, and he felt +it incumbent upon him to fall in with her views. Therefore he turned +again to Dave. + +"Well, what about it, Dave?" he demanded. "What are you going to do?" + +The lumberman looked him straight in the eye and smiled. + +"Do? Why, what all you fellows seem to be scared to do. I'm going into +this bazaar to do my duty by the church. I'm going to hand them all my +spare dollars, and if there's any change coming, I'll take it in +dry-goods." + +But the lightness of his tone and smile had no inspiration from his +mood. He was angry; he was disappointed. So this was the worth of Jim's +promises! This was the man who, in a perfect fever of passion, had said +that the old life of gambling and debauchery was finished for him. And +yet he had probably left his (Dave's) office and gone straight to a +night of heavy gaming, and, if Checks were right, running a faro bank. +He knew only too well what that meant. No man who had graduated as a +gambler in such a region as the Yukon was likely to run a faro bank +straight. + +Then a light seemed to flash through his brain, and of a sudden he +realized something that fired the blood in his veins and set his pulses +hammering feverishly. For the moment it set his thoughts chaotic; he +could not realize anything quite clearly. One feeling thrilled him, one +wild hope. Then, with stern self-repression, he took hold of himself. +This was neither time nor place for such weakness, he told himself. He +knew what it was. For the moment he had let himself get out of hand. He +had for so long regarded Betty as belonging to Jim; he had for so long +shut her from his own thoughts and only regarded her from an impersonal +point of view, that it had never occurred to him, until that instant, +that there was a possibility of her engagement to Jim ever falling +through. + +This was what had so suddenly stirred him. Now, actuated by his sense +of duty and honor, he thrust these things aside. His loyalty to the +girl, the strength of his great love for her, would not, even for a +moment, permit him to think of himself. Five years ago he had said +good-bye to any hopes and thoughts such as these. On that day he had +struggled with himself and won. He was not going to destroy the effects +of that victory by any selfish thought now. His love for the girl was +there, nothing could alter that. It would remain there, deep down in +his heart, dormant but living. But it was something more than a mere +human passion, it was something purer, loftier; something that +crystallized the human clay of his thought into the purest diamonds of +unselfishness. + +In the few moments that it took him to pass into the Meeting House and +launch himself upon his task of furthering the cause of Tom Chepstow's +church, his mind cleared. He could not yet see the line of action he +must take if the gossip of Mr. Addlestone Checks were true. But one +thing was plain, that gossip must not influence him until its truth +were established. Just as he was seized upon by at least half a dozen +of the women who had wares to sell, and were bent on morally picking +his pockets, he had arrived at his decision. + +The hall was ablaze with colored stuffs. There were festoons and +banners, and rosettes and evergreen. Every bare corner was somehow +concealed. There were drapings of royal blue and staring white, and +sufficient bunting to make a suit of flags for a war-ship. + +All the seats and benches had been removed, and round the walls had +been erected the stalls and booths of the saleswomen. One end of the +room was given up to a platform, on which, in the evening, the most +select of the local vocalists would perform. Beside this was a bran +tub, where one could have a dip for fifty cents and be sure of winning +a prize worth at least five. Then there was a fortune-telling booth on +the opposite side, presided over by a local beauty, Miss Eva Wade, +whose father was a small rancher just outside the valley. This +institution was eyed askance by many of the women. They were not sure +that fortune-telling could safely be regarded as strictly moral. Parson +Tom was responsible for its inception, and his lean shoulders were +braced to bear the consequences. + +Dave was by no means new to church bazaars. Any one living in a small +western village must have considerable experience of such things. They +are a form of taxation much in favor, and serve multifarious purposes. +They are at once a pleasant social function where young people can +safely meet under the matronly eye; they keep all in close touch with +religion; they give the usually idle something to think of and work +for, and the busy find them an addition to their burdens. They create a +sort of central bureau for the exchange of scandal, and a ready market +for trading useless articles to people who do not desire to purchase, +but having purchased feel that the moral sacrifice they have made is at +least one step in the right direction to make up for many backslidings +in the past. + +Dave doubtless had long since considered all this. But he saw and +appreciated the purpose underlying it. He knew Tom Chepstow to be a +good man, and though he had little inspiration as a churchman, he +spared no pains in his spiritual labors, and the larger portion of his +very limited stipend went in unobtrusive charity. No sick bed ever went +uncheered by his presence, and no poor ever went without warm clothing +and wholesome food in the terrible Canadian winter so long as he had +anything to give. Therefore Dave had come well provided with money, +which he began at once to spend with hopeless prodigality. + +The rest of the men followed in the lumberman's wake, and soon the +bustle and noise waxed furious. They all bought indiscriminately. Dave +started on Mrs. Checks' "gentlemen's outfitters" stall. His heart +rejoiced when he sighted a pile of handkerchiefs which the lady had +specially made for him, and which she now thrust at him with an +exorbitant price marked upon them. He bought them all. He bought a +number of shirts he could not possibly have worn. He bought +underclothing that wouldn't have been a circumstance on his cumbersome +figure. He passed on to Louisa Mudley's millinery stall and bought +several hats, which he promptly shed upon the various women in his +vicinity. He did his duty royally, and bought dozens of things which he +promptly gave away. And his attentions in this matter were quite +impartial. He did it with the air of some great good-natured schoolboy +that set everybody delighted with him, with themselves, with +everything; and the bazaar, as a result, went with a royal, prosperous +swing. Here, as in his work, his personality carried with it the magic +of success. + +At last he reached Betty's stall. She was presiding over a hideous +collection of cheap bric-a-brac. With her usual unselfishness and +desire to promote harmony amongst the workers, and so help the success +of the bazaar, she had sacrificed herself on the altar of duty by +taking charge of the most unpopular stall. Nobody wanted the goods she +had to sell; consequently Dave found her deserted. She smiled up at him +a little pathetically as he came over to her. + +"Are you coming as a friend or as a customer? Most of the visits I have +received have been purely friendly." She laughed, but Dave could see +that the natural spirit of rivalry was stirred, and she was a little +unhappy at the rush of business going on everywhere but at her stall. + +"I come as both," he said, with that air of frank kindliness so +peculiarly his own. + +The girl's eyes brightened. + +"Then let's get to work on the customer part of your visit first," she +said at once; "the other can wait. Now here I have a nice plate. You +can hang it in your office on the wall. You see it's already wired. It +might pass for old Worcester if you don't let in too much light. But +there, you never have your windows washed, do you? Then I have," she +hurried on, turning to other articles, "this. This is a shell--at least +I suppose it is," she added naively. "And this is a Toby jug; and this +is a pipe-rack; this is for matches; this is for a whisk brush; and +these two vases, they're real fine. Look at them. Did you ever see such +colors? No, and I don't suppose anybody else ever did." She laughed, +and Dave joined in her laugh. + +But her laugh suddenly died out. The man heard a woman, only a few feet +away, mention Jim Truscott's name, and he knew that Betty had heard it +too. He knew that her smiling chatter, which had seemed so gay, so +irresponsible, had all been pretense, a pretense which had suddenly +been swept aside at the mere mention of Jim's name. At that moment he +felt he could have taken the man up in his two strong hands and +strangled him. However, he allowed his feelings no display, but at once +took up the challenge of the saleswoman. + +"Say, Betty, there's just one thing in the world I'm crazy about: it's +bits of pots and things such as you've got on your stall. It seems like +fate you should be running this stall. Now just get right to it, and +fetch out some tickets--a heap of 'em--and write 'sold' on 'em, and +dump 'em on all you like. How much for the lot?" + +"What do you mean, Dave?" the girl cried, her eyes wide and questioning. + +"How much? I don't want anybody else buying those things," Dave said +seriously. "I want 'em all." + +Betty's eyes softened almost to tears. + +"I can't let you do it, Dave," she said gently. "Not all. Some." + +But the man was not to be turned from his purpose. + +"I want 'em all," he said doggedly. "Here. Here's two hundred dollars. +That'll cover it." He laid four bills of fifty dollars each on the +stall. "There," he added, "you can sell 'em over again if any of the +boys want to buy." + +Betty was not sure which she wanted to do, cry or laugh. However, she +finally decided on the latter course. Dave's simple contradiction was +quite too much for her. + +"You're the most refreshing old simpleton I ever knew," she said. "But +I'll take your money--for the church," she added, as though endeavoring +to quiet her conscience. + +Dave sighed in relief. + +"Well, that's that. Now we come to the friendly side of my visit," he +said. "I've got a heap to say to you. Jim Truscott's been to me." + +He made his statement simply, and waited. But no comment was +forthcoming. Betty was stooping over a box, collecting cards to place +on the articles on her stall. Presently she looked up, and her look was +an invitation for him to go on. + +The man's task was not easy. It would have been easy enough had he not +spoken with Checks outside, but now it was all different. He had +promised his help, but in giving it he had no clear conscience. + +He propped himself against the side-post of her stall, and his weight +set the structure shaking perilously. + +"I've often wondered, Betty," he said, in a rumbling, confidential +tone, "if there ever was a man, or for that matter a woman, who really +understood human nature. We all think we know a lot about it. We size +up a man, and we reckon he's good, bad, or indifferent, and if our +estimate happens to prove, we pat ourselves, and hold our heads a shade +higher, and feel sorry for those who can't read a man as easy as we +can." + +Betty nodded while she stuck some "Sold" cards about her stall. + +"A locomotive's a great proposition, so long as it's on a set track. +It's an all-fired nuisance without. Guess a locomotive can do +everything it shouldn't when it gets loose of its track. My word, I'd +hate to be around with a loco up to its fool-tricks, running loose in a +city. Seems to me that's how it is with human nature." + +Betty's brown eyes were thoughtfully contemplating the man's ugly +features. + +"I suppose you mean we all need a track to run on?" + +"Why, yes," Dave went on, brightening. "Some of us start out in life +with a ready-made track, with 'points' we can jump if we've a notion. +Some of us have a track without 'points,' so there's no excuse for +getting off it. Some of us have to lay down our own track, and keep +right on it, building it as we go. That's the hardest. We're bound to +have some falls. You see there's so much ballasting needed, the +ground's so mighty bumpy. I seem to know a deal about that sort of +track. I've had to build mine, and I've fallen plenty. Sometimes it's +been hard picking myself up, and I've been bruised and sore often. +Still, I've got up, and I don't seem no worse for falling." + +Betty's eyes were smiling softly. + +"But _you_ picked yourself up, Dave, didn't you?" she asked gently. + +"Well--not always. You see, I've got a mother. She's helped a whole +heap. You see, she's mostly all my world, and I used to hate to hurt +her by letting her see me down. She kind of thinks I'm the greatest +proposition ever, and it tickles my vanity. I want her to go on +thinking it, as it keeps me hard at work building that track. And now, +through her, I've been building so long that it comes easier, and +thinking of her makes me hang on so tight I don't get falling around +now. There's other fellows haven't got a mother, or--you see, I've +always had her with me. That's where it comes in. Now, if she'd been +away from me five years, when I was very young; you see----" + +Dave broke off clumsily. He was floundering in rough water. He knew +what he wanted to say, but words were not too easy to him. + +"Poor Jim!" murmured Betty softly. + +Dave's eyes were on her in a moment. Her manner was somehow different +from what he had expected. There was sympathy and womanly tenderness in +her voice; but he had expected---- Then his thoughts went back to the +time when they had spoken of Jim on the bridge. And, without knowing +why, his pulses quickened, and a warmth of feeling swept over him. + +"Poor Jim!" he said, after a long pause, during which his pulses had +steadied and he had become master of his feelings again. "He's fallen a +lot, and I'm not sure it's all his fault. He always ran straight when +he was here. He was very young to go away to a place like the Yukon. +Maybe--maybe you could pick him up; maybe you could hold him to that +track, same as mother did for me?" + +Betty was close beside him. She had moved out of her stall and was now +looking up into his earnest face. + +"Does he want me to?" she asked wistfully. "Do _you_ think I can help +him?" + +The man's hands clenched tightly. For a moment he struggled. + +"You can," he said at last. "He wants you; he wants your help. He loves +you so, he's nearly crazy." + +The girl gazed up at him with eyes whose question the man tried but +failed to read. It was some seconds before her lips opened to speak +again. + +But her words never came. At that moment Addlestone Checks hurried up +to them. He drew Dave sharply on one side. His manner was mysterious +and important, and his face wore a look of outraged piety. + +"Something's got to be done," he said in a stage whisper. "It's the +most outrageous thing I've seen in years. Right here--right here in the +house where the parson preaches the Word! It sure is enough to set it +shakin' to its foundation. Drunk! That's what he is--roarin', flamin', +fightin' drunk! You must do something. It's up to you." + +"What do you mean? Who is drunk?" cried Dave, annoyed at the man's +Pharisaical air. + +Before he could get a reply there was a commotion at the far end of the +bazaar. Voices were raised furiously, and everybody had flocked in that +direction. Once Dave thought he heard Chepstow's voice raised in +protest. Betty ran to his side directly the tumult began. + +"Oh, Dave, what's the matter down there? I thought I heard Jim's voice?" + +"So you did, Miss Betty," cried Checks, with sanctimonious spleen. "So +you did--the drunken----" + +"Shut up, or I'll break your neck!" cried Dave, threatening him +furiously. + +The dry-goods dealer staggered back just as Betty's hand was gently, +but firmly, laid on Dave's upraised arm. + +"Don't bother, Dave," she said piteously. "I've seen him. Oh, +Jim--Jim!" And she covered her face with her hands. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +IN DAVE'S OFFICE + + +It was the day after the bazaar. Betty had just returned home from her +school for midday dinner. She was sitting at the open window, waiting +while her aunt set the meal. The cool green of the wild-cucumbers +covering the veranda tempered the blistering summer heat which +oppressed the valley. The girl was looking out upon the village below +her, at the woodland slopes opposite, at the distant narrowing of the +mighty walls which bounded her world, but she saw none of these things. +She saw nothing of the beauty, the gracious foliage, the wonderful +sunlight she loved. Her gaze was introspective. She saw only the +pictures her thoughts conjured up. + +They were not pleasant pictures either, but they were absorbing. She +knew that she had arrived at a crisis in her life. The scene she had +witnessed at the bazaar was still burning in her brain. The shame stung +and revolted her. The horror of it was sickening. Jim's disgrace was +complete; yet, in spite of it, she could not help remembering Dave's +appeal for him. + +He had said that Jim needed her more than ever now, and the thought +made her uneasy, and her tender heart urged her in a direction she knew +she must not take. It was so easy for her to condemn, she who knew +nothing of temptation. And yet her position was so utterly impossible. +Jim had been in the village all this time and had not been near her, +that is except on this one occasion, when he was drunk. He was +evidently afraid to come near her. He was a coward, and she hated +cowards. + +He had even persuaded Dave to intercede for him. She smiled as she +thought of it. But her smile was for Dave, and not at the other's +display of cowardice. It was not a smile of amusement either. She only +smiled at the absurdity of Dave pleading for one whom he knew to be +wholly unworthy. It was the man's large heart, she told herself. And +almost in the same breath she found herself resenting his kindly +interference, and wishing he would mind his own business. Why should he +be always thinking of others? Why should he not think sometimes of +himself? + +Her dreaming now became of Dave alone, and she found herself reviewing +his life as she knew it. Her eyes grew tender, and she basked in the +sunlight of a world changed to pleasant thought. His ugliness no longer +troubled her--she no longer saw it. She saw only the spirit inside the +man, and somehow his roughnesses of voice, manner and appearance seemed +a wholly fitting accompaniment to it. Her thoughts of Jim had gone from +her entirely. The crisis which she was facing had receded into the +shadows. Dave became her dominant thought, and she started when her +uncle's voice suddenly broke in upon her reverie. + +"Betty," he said, coming up behind her and laying one lean hand upon +her rounded shoulder, "I haven't had time to speak to you about it +since the bazaar, but now I want to tell you that you can have nothing +more to do with young Truscott. He is a thorough-paced young scoundrel +and----" + +"You need say no more, uncle," the girl broke in bitterly. "You can +tell me nothing I do not already know of him." + +"Then I trust you will send him about his business at once," added her +aunt, who had entered the room bearing the dinner joint on a tray, just +in time to hear Betty's reply. + +Betty looked at her aunt's round, good-natured face. For once it was +cold and angry. From her she looked up at her uncle's, and the decision +she saw in his frank eyes left her no alternative but a direct reply. + +"I intend to settle everything this afternoon," she said simply. + +"In what way?" inquired her uncle sharply. + +Betty rose from her seat and crossed the room to her aunt's side. The +latter, having set the dinner, was waiting beside her chair ready to +sit down as soon as the matter should be settled. Betty placed her arm +about her stout waist, and the elder woman's face promptly relaxed. She +could never long keep up even a pretense of severity where Betty was +concerned. + +The girl promptly addressed herself to her uncle with all the frankness +of one assured of a sympathetic hearing. + +"You have always taught me, uncle dear, that duty must be my first +consideration in life," she began steadily. "I have tried to live up to +that, and it has possibly made my conscience a little over keen." Her +face clouded, but the clouds broke immediately, chased away by a +plaintive smile. "When Jim asked me to marry him five years ago I +believed I loved him. At one time I'm sure I did, in a silly, girlish +fashion. But soon after he went away I realized that a girlish +infatuation is not real love. This knowledge I tried to hide even from +myself. I would not believe it, and for a long time I almost managed to +convince myself. That was until Jim's letters became fewer and colder. +With his change I no longer attempted to conceal from myself the real +state of my own feelings. But even then my conscience wouldn't let me +alone. I had promised to wait for him, and I made up my mind that, come +what might, unless he made it impossible I would marry him." She +sighed. "Well, you know the rest. He has now made it impossible. What +his real feelings are for me," she went on with a pathetic smile, "I +have not had an opportunity of gauging. As you know, he has not been +near me. I shall now make it my business to see him this afternoon and +settle everything. My conscience isn't by any means easy about it, but +I intend to give him up." + +Her aunt squeezed her arm sympathetically, and her uncle nodded his +approval. + +"Where are you going to see him?" the latter asked. "You mustn't see +him alone." Then he burst out wrathfully, "He's a blackguard, and----" + +"No, no, uncle, don't say that," Betty interrupted him. "Surely he is +to be pitied. Remember him as he was. You cannot tell what temptations +have come his way." + +The parson's face cleared at once. His angry outbursts were always +short-lived. + +"I'm sorry, Betty," he said. "My dear, you shame me. I'm afraid that my +hasty temper is always leading to my undoing as a churchman." The +half-humorous smile which accompanied his words passed swiftly. "Where +are you going to see him?" he again demanded. + +"Down at Dave's office," the girl replied, after a moment's thought. + +"Eh?" Her uncle was startled; but Mary Chepstow smiled on her +encouragingly. + +"Yes, you see," she went on, "Dave had a good deal to do with--our +engagement--in a way, and----" + +"I'm glad Dave is going to help you through this business," said her +aunt, with a glance which effectually kept her husband silent. "He's a +dear fellow, and--let's have our dinner--it's nearly cold." + +Aunt Mary was not brilliant, she was not meddlesome, but she had all a +woman's intuition. She felt that enough had been said. And for some +obscure reason she was glad that Dave was to have a hand in this +matter. Nor had her satisfaction anything to do with the man's ability +to protect her niece from possible insult. + +That afternoon Dave received an unexpected visit. He was alone in his +office, clad for hard work, without coat, waistcoat, collar or tie. He +had no scruples in these matters. With all an American's love of +freedom he abandoned himself to all he undertook with a +whole-heartedness which could not tolerate even the restraint of what +he considered unnecessary clothing. And just now, in the terrific heat, +all these things were superfluous. + +Betty looked particularly charming as she hurried across the +lumber-yard. She was dressed in a spotless white cotton frock, and, +under her large sun-hat, her brown hair shone in the sunlight like +burnished copper. Without the least hesitation she approached the +office and knocked peremptorily on the door. + +The man inside grudgingly answered the summons. His books were +occupying all his attention, and his thoughts were filled with columns +of figures. But the moment he beheld the white, smiling vision the last +of his figures fled precipitately from his mind. + +"Why, come right in, little Betty," he cried, hastily setting the only +available chair for her. Then he bethought himself of his attire. "Say, +you might have let me know. Just half a minute and I'll fix myself up." + +But the girl instantly protested. "You'll do just as you are," she +exclaimed. "Now you look like a lumberman. And I like you best that +way." + +Dave grinned and sat down a little self-consciously. But Betty had no +idea of letting any conventionalities interfere with the matter she had +in hand. She was always direct, always single-minded, when her decision +was taken. She gave him no time to speculate as to the object of her +visit. + +"Dave," she began seriously, "I want you to do me a great favor." Then +she smiled. "As usual," she added. "I want you to send for Jim Truscott +and bring him here." + +Dave was on his feet in an instant and crossed to the door. The next +moment his voice roared out to one of his foremen. It was a shout that +could have been heard across his own milling floor with every saw +shrieking on the top of its work. + +He waited, and presently Simon Odd came hurrying across the yard. He +spoke to him outside, and then returned to the office. + +"He'll be along in a few minutes," he said. "I've sent Odd with the +buckboard." + +"Are you sure he'll come?" + +Dave smiled confidently. + +"I told Odd to bring him." + +"I hope he'll come willingly," the girl said, after a thoughtful pause. + +"So do I," observed Dave dryly. "Well, little girl?" + +Betty understood the inquiry, and looked him fearlessly in the eyes. + +"You sowed your wheat on barren soil, Dave," she said decidedly. "Your +appeal for Jim has borne no fruit." + +The man shifted his position. It was the only sign he gave. But the +fires were stirred into a sudden blaze, and his blood ran fiercely +through his veins. + +"That's not a heap like you, Betty," was all he said. + +"Isn't it?" The girl turned to the window. The dirt on the glass made +it difficult for her to see out of it, but she gazed at it steadily. + +"I suppose you'll think me a mean, heartless creature," she said +slowly. "You'll think little enough of my promises, and still less +of--of my loyalty." She paused. Then she raised her head and turned to +him again. "I cannot marry Jim. I cannot undertake his reformation. I +cannot give up my life to a man whom I now know I never really loved. I +know you will not understand. I know, only too well, your own lofty +spirit, your absolute unselfishness. I know that had you been in my +place you would have fulfilled your promise at any cost. But I can't. I +simply can't." + +"No." + +It was the man's only comment. But his mind was busy. He knew Betty so +well that he understood a great deal without asking questions. + +"Aunt Mary and uncle know my decision," the girl went on. "They know I +am here, and that I am going to see Jim in your presence. You see, I +thought if I sent for him to come to our house he might refuse. He +might insult uncle again. I thought, somehow, it would be different +with you." + +Dave nodded. + +"I don't blame your uncle and aunt for making you give him up," he +said. "I'd have done it in their place." + +"Yet you appealed for him?" + +Betty's eyes questioned him. + +"Sure, I promised to help him. That was before the bazaar." + +Suddenly Betty held out her hands with a little appealing movement. +Dave wanted to seize them and crush them in his own, but he did not +stir. + +"Tell me you don't think badly of me. Tell me you do not think me a +heartless, wretched woman. I have thought and thought, and prayed for +guidance. And now it seems to me I am a thoroughly wicked girl. But I +cannot--I must not marry him." + +The man rose abruptly from his seat. He could no longer look into her +troubled eyes and keep his own secret. When he spoke it was with his +back to her, as he made a pretense of filling his pipe at the tobacco +jar on the table. His voice was deep with emotion. + +"I thank God you've decided," he said. "You've done right by everybody. +And you've shown more courage refusing him than if you'd gone through +with your promise, because you've done it against your conscience. No, +little Betty," he went on, turning to her again with infinite kindness +in his steady eyes, "there's no one can call you heartless, or any +other cruel name--and--and they'd better not in my hearing," he +finished up clumsily. + +A few minutes later the rattle of buckboard wheels sounded outside, and +before Betty could reply Dave took the opportunity of going to the +door. Jim Truscott was standing outside with the gigantic Simon Odd +close behind him, much in the manner of a warder watching his prisoner. +The flicker of a smile came and went in the lumberman's eyes at the +sight. Then his attention was held by the anger he saw in Jim's +dissipated face. He was not a pleasant sight. His eyes were heavy and +bloodshot, and the lines about them were accentuated by his general +unwashed appearance. Even at that distance, as they stood there facing +each other, he caught the reek of stale brandy the man exhaled. His +clothes, too, had the appearance of having been flung on hurriedly, and +the shirt and collar he wore were plainly filthy. Altogether he was an +object for pity, and at the same time it was not possible to feel +anything for him but a profound repugnance. + +"He was abed," said the giant Odd, the moment Dave appeared. Then with +a complacent grin, "But he guessed he'd come right along when I told +him you was kind o' busy an' needed him important." + +But Jim's angry face flamed. + +"Nothing of the sort. This damned ruffian of yours dragged me out, +blast him." + +"Cut it!" Dave warned him sharply. "There's a lady here to see you. +Come right in." + +The warning had instant effect. Truscott stepped into the room and +stood face to face with Betty. Dave closed the door and stood aside. +For a few intense moments no word was spoken. The man stared stupidly +into the girl's unsmiling face; then he looked across at Dave. It was +Betty who finally broke the silence. + +"Well, Jim," she said kindly, "at last we meet." She noted all the +signs of dissipation in the young face, which, but a few years ago, had +been so fresh and clean and good-looking. Now it was so different, and, +to her woman's eyes, there was more than the mere outward signs. There +was a spirit looking out of his bloodshot eyes that she did not +recognize. It was as though the soul of the man had changed; it had +degenerated to a lower grade. There was something unwholesome in his +expression, as though some latent brutality had been stirred into life, +and had obliterated every vestige of that clean, boyish spirit that had +once been his. + +"And," she went on, as he remained silent, "you had to be cajoled into +coming to see me." + +Still the man did not speak. Whether it was shame that held him silent +it was impossible to tell. Probably not, for there was a steadily +growing light in his eyes that suggested thoughts of anything but of a +moral tone. He was held by her beauty--he was held as a man is +sometimes held by some ravishing vision that appeals to his lower +senses. He lost no detail of her perfect woman's figure, the seductive +contours so wonderfully moulded. His eyes drank in the sight, and it +set his blood afire. + +Dave never turned his eyes. He too was watching. And he understood, and +resented, the storm that was lashing through the man's veins. + +"Have you nothing to say to me after these long years?" the girl asked +again, forced to break the desperate silence. Then the woman in her +found voice, "Oh! Jim, Jim! the pity of it. And I thought you so +strong." + +Dave clenched his hands at his sides, but made no other movement. Then +Betty's manner suddenly changed. All the warmth died out of her voice, +and, mistress of herself again, she went straight to her object. + +"Jim, it was I who sent for you. I asked Dave to do this for me." + +"A word from you would have been enough," the man said, with a sudden +fire that lost nothing of its fierce passion in the hoarse tone in +which he spoke. + +"A word from me?" There was unconscious irony in the girl's reply. + +"Yes, a word. I know. You are thinking of when your uncle came to me; +you're thinking of our first meeting on the bridge; you're thinking of +yesterday. I was drunk. I admit it. But I'm not always drunk. I tell +you a word from you would have been enough." + +The girl's eyes reproached him. + +"A word from me, after five years' absence? It seems to me you should +not have needed a word from me. Jim, had you come to me, whatever your +state, poor or rich, it would have made no difference to me. I should +have met you as we parted, ready to fulfil my pledge." + +"You mean----" + +The man's bloodshot eyes were alight. A tremendous passion was urging +him to the limits of his restraining powers. He had almost forgotten +where he was. He had quite forgotten Dave. The sight of this woman with +her beautiful figure, her sweet face and serious eyes, almost maddened +him. He was from the wilds, where he had long since buried his +wholesome youthful ideals. The life he had lived had entirely deadened +all lofty thought. He only saw with a brain debased to the level of the +animal. He desired her. He madly desired her now that he had seen her +again, and he realized that his desire was about to be thwarted. + +Betty drew back a step. The movement was unconscious. It was the +woman's instinct at the sight of something threatening which made her +draw away from the passion she saw blazing in his eyes. Dave silently +watched the man. + +"I mean," said the girl solemnly, "that you have made our pledge +impossible. I mean," she went on, with quiet dignity, "that I cannot +marry you now, even if you wish it. No, no," as Jim made a sudden +movement to speak, "it is quite useless to discuss the matter further. +I insisted on this meeting to settle the matter beyond question. Dave +here witnessed our engagement, and I wished him to witness its +termination. You will be better free, and so shall I. There could have +been no happiness in a marriage between us----" + +"But I won't give you up," the man suddenly broke out. He had passed +the narrow limits of his restraint. His face flushed and showed +blotched in the sudden scarlet. For a second, after that first fiery +outburst, no words came. Then the torrent flowed forth. "Is this what I +went away for? Is this what I have slaved for in the wilds of the +Yukon? Is this what I am to find now that I have made the money you +desired? No, no, you can't get rid of me like that; you don't mean it, +you can't mean it. Betty, I want you more than anything on earth," he +rushed on, his voice dropping to a persuasive note. "I want you, and +without you life is nothing to me. I must have you!" He took a step +forward. But it was only a step, for the girl's steady eyes held him, +and checked his further advance. And something in her attitude turned +his mood to one of fierce protest. "What is it that has come between +us? What is it that has changed you?" + +Betty snatched at his pause. + +"Such questions come well from you, Jim," she said, with some +bitterness. "You know the truth. You do not need me to tell you." Her +tone suddenly let the demon in the man loose. His passion-lit eyes +lowered, and a furtive, sinister light shone in them when he lifted +them again. + +"I know. I understand," he cried. "This is an excuse, and it serves you +well." The coldness of his voice was in painful contrast to his recent +passion. "The old story, eh? You have found some one else. I never +thought much of a woman's promise, anyhow. I wonder who it is." Then +with a sudden vehemence. "But you shan't marry him. Do you hear? You +shan't while I am----" + +"Quit it!" + +Dave's great voice suddenly filled the room and cut the man's threats +short. + +Jim turned on him in a flash; until that moment he had entirely +forgotten the lumberman. He eyed the giant for a second. Then he +laughed cynically. + +"Oh, I'd forgotten you. Of course," he went on. "I see now. I never +thought of it before. I remember, you were on the bridge together when +I first----" + +Dave had taken a couple of strides and now stood between the two. His +movement silenced the man, while he addressed himself to Betty. + +"You're finished with him?" he inquired in a deep, harsh voice. + +There was something so compelling about him that Betty simply nodded. +Instantly he swung round on the younger man. + +"You'll vacate this place--quick," he said deliberately. + +The two men eyed each other for some seconds. Truscott's look meant +mischief, Dave's was calmly determined. The latter finally stepped +aside and crossing to the door held it open. + +"I said you'll--vacate," he said sharply. + +Truscott turned and glanced at the open door. Then he glanced at Betty, +who had drawn farther away. Finally his frigid eyes turned upon Dave's +great figure standing at the door. For an instant a wicked smile played +round his lips, and he spoke in the same cynical tone. + +"I never thought of you in the marriage market, Dave," he said, with a +vicious laugh. "I suppose it's only natural. Nobody ever associated you +with marriage. Somehow your manner and appearance don't suggest it. I +seem to see you handling lumber all your life, not dandling children on +your knee. But there, you're a good catch--a mighty good one. And I was +fool enough to trust you with my cause. Ye gods! Well, your weight of +money has done it, no doubt. I congratulate you. She has lied to me, +and no doubt she will lie----" + +But the man, if he finished his remark at all, must have done so to the +stacks of lumber in the yards, and to the accompaniment of the shriek +of the saws. There was no fuss. Scarcely any struggle. Dave moved with +cat-like swiftness, which in a man of his size was quite miraculous, +and in a flash Jim Truscott was sprawling on the hard red ground on the +other side of the doorway. + +And when Dave looked round at Betty the girl's face was covered with +her hands, and she was weeping. He stood for a second all contrition, +and clumsily fumbling for words. He believed she was distressed at his +brutal action. + +"I'm sorry, little Betty," he blurted out at last. "I'm real sorry. But +I just couldn't help it." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +AN AUSPICIOUS MEETING + + +Malkern as a village had two moments in the day when it wore the +appearance of a thoroughly busy city. At all other times there was +little outward sign to tell of the prosperity it really enjoyed. +Malkern's really bustling time was at noon, when its workers took an +hour and a half recess for the midday meal, and at six o'clock in the +evening, when the day and night "shifts" at the mill exchanged places. + +There was no eight-hour working day in this lumbering village. The +lumber-jacks and all the people associated with it worked to make +money, not to earn a mere living. They had not reached that deplorable +condition of social pessimism when the worker for a wage believes he is +the man who is making millions for an employer, who is prospering only +by his, the worker's, capacity to do. They were working each for +himself, and regarded the man who could afford them such opportunity as +an undisguised blessing. The longer the "time" the higher the wages, +and this was their whole scheme of life. + +Besides this, there is a certain pride of achievement in the +lumber-jack. He is not a mere automaton. He is a man virile, strong, +and of a wonderful independence all his own. His spirits are animal, +keen of perception, keen for all the joys of life such as he knows. He +lives his life, whether in play or work. Whether he be a sealer, a +cant-hook man, a teamster, or an axeman, his pride is in his skill, and +the rating of his skill is estimated largely by the tally of his day's +work, on which depends the proportion of his wages. + +It was the midday dinner-hour now, and the mill was debouching its +rough tide of workers upon the main street. Harley-Smith's bar was full +of men seeking unnecessary "appetizers." Every boarding-house was +rapidly filling with hungry men clamoring for the ample, even luxurious +meal awaiting them. These men lived well; their work was tremendous, +and food of the best, and ample, was needed to keep them fit. The few +stores which the village boasted were full of eager purchasers +demanding instant service lest the precious time be lost. + +Harley-Smith's hotel abutted on the main road, and the tide had to pass +its inviting portals on their way to the village. Usually the veranda +was empty at this time, for the regular boarders were at dinner, and +the bar claimed those who were not yet dining. But on this occasion it +possessed a solitary occupant. + +He was sitting on a hard windsor chair, tilted back at a dangerous +angle, with his feet propped upon the veranda rail in an attitude of +ease, if not of elegance. He was apparently quite unconcerned at +anything going on about him. His broad-brimmed hat was tilted well +forward upon his nose, in a manner that served the dual purpose of +shading his eyes from the dazzling sunlight, and permitting his gaze to +wander whither he pleased without the observation of the passers-by. To +give a further suggestion of indolent indifference, he was luxuriously +smoking one of Harley-Smith's best cigars. + +But the man's attitude was a pretense. No one passed the veranda who +escaped the vigilance of his quick eyes. He scanned each face sharply, +and passed on to the next; nor did his watchfulness relax for one +instant. It was clear he was looking for some one whom he expected +would pass that way, and it was equally evident he had no desire to +advertise the fact. + +Suddenly he pushed his hat back from his face, and, at the same time, +his feet dropped to the boarded floor. This brought his chair on its +four legs with a jolt, and he sat bolt upright. Now he showed the +bloated young face of Jim Truscott. There was a look in his eyes of +something approaching venomous satisfaction. He had seen the man he was +looking for, and promptly beckoned to him. + +Dick Mansell was passing at that moment, and his small, ferret-like +eyes caught the summons. He hesitated, nor did he come at once in +response to the other's smile of good-fellowship. + +"Dick!" Truscott said. Then he added genially, "I was wondering if +you'd come along this way." + +Mansell nodded indifferently. His face was ill-humored, and his small +eyes had little friendliness in them. He nodded, and was about to pass +on, but the other stayed him with a gesture. + +"Don't go," he said. "I want to speak to you. Come up to my room and +have a drink." + +He kept his voice low, but he might have saved himself the trouble. The +passing crowd were far too intent upon their own concerns to bother +with him. The fact was his attitude was the result of nearly +forty-eight hours of hard thinking, thinking inspired by a weak +character goaded to offense by the rough but justifiable treatment +meted out to him in Dave's office. This man's character, at no time +robust, was now morally run-down, and its condition was like the weakly +body of an unhealthy man. It collected to itself every injurious germ +and left him diseased. His brain and nerves were thrilling with +resentment, and a desire to get even with the "board." He was furiously +determined that Dave should remember with regret the moment he had laid +hands upon him, and that he had come between him and the girl he had +intended to make his own. + +Mansell, stepping on to the veranda, paused and looked the other full +in the eye. + +"Well," he said, after a moment's doubtful consideration, "what is it? +'Tain't like you givin' drink away--'specially to me. What monkey +tricks is it?" + +There was truculence in the sawyer's tone. There was offense in his +very attitude. + +"Are you coming to my room for that drink?" + +Truscott spoke quite coldly, but he knew the curse of the man's thirst. +He had reason to. + +Mansell laughed without any mirth. + +"Guess I may as well drink your brandy. It'll taste the same as any +other. Go ahead." + +His host at once led the way into the hotel and up the stairs to his +room. It was a front room on the first floor, and comparatively +luxurious. The moment the door closed behind him Mansell took in the +details with some interest. + +"A mighty swell apartment--fer you," he observed offensively. + +Truscott shrugged as he turned his back to pour out drinks at the table. + +"That's my business," he said. "I pay for it, and," he added, glancing +meaningly over his shoulder, "I can afford to pay for it--or anything +else I choose to have." + +Mansell was a fine figure of a man, and beside him the other looked +slight, even weedy. But his face and head spoiled him. Both were small +and mean, and gave the impression of a low order of intelligence. Yet +he was reputed one of the finest sawyers in the valley, and a man, when +not on the drink, to be thoroughly trusted. Before he went away to the +Yukon with Jim he had been a teetotaler for two years, and on that +account, and his unrivaled powers as a sawyer, he had acted as the +other's foreman in his early lumbering enterprise. Except, however, for +those two years his past had in it far more shadows than light. + +He grinned unpleasantly. + +"No need to ast how you came by the stuff," he said. + +Truscott was round on him in an instant. His eyes shone wickedly, but +there was a grin about his lips. + +"The same way you tried to come by it too, only you couldn't keep your +damned head clear. You couldn't let this stuff alone." He handed the +man a glass of neat brandy. "You and your cursed drink nearly ruined my +chances. It wasn't your fault you didn't. When I ran that game up in +Dawson I was a fool to take you into it. I did it out of decency, +because you had gone up there with me, and quite against my best +judgment when I saw the way you were drinking. If you'd kept straight +you'd be in the same position as I am. You wouldn't have returned here +more or less broke and only too ready to set rotten yarns going around +about me." + +The sawyer had taken the brandy and swallowed it. Now he set the glass +down on the table with a vicious bang. + +"What yarns?" he demanded angrily. + +"Tchah! Hardwig's a meddling busybody. You might have known it would +come back to me sooner or later. But I didn't bring you here to throw +these things up in your face. You brought it on yourself. Keep a civil +tongue, and if you like to stand in I'll put you into a good thing. +You're not working? And you've got no money?" + +Truscott's questions came sharply. His plans were clear in his mind. +These points he had made sure of already. But he wanted to approach the +matter he had in hand in what he considered the best way in dealing +with a man like Mansell. He knew the sawyer to have scruples of a kind, +that is until they had been carefully undermined by brandy. It was his +purpose to undermine them now. + +"You seem to know a heap," Mansell observed sarcastically. Then he +became a shade more interested. "What's the 'good thing'?" + +Jim poured some brandy out for himself, at the same time, as though +unconsciously, replenishing the other's glass liberally. The sawyer +watched him while he waited for a reply, and suddenly a thought +occurred to his none too ready brain. + +"Drink, eh?" he laughed mockingly, as though answering a challenge on +the subject. "Drink? Say, who's been doing the drink since you got +back? Folks says as your gal has gone right back on you, that ther' +wench as you was a-sparkin' 'fore we lit out. An' it's clear along of +liquor. They say you're soused most ev'ry night, an' most days too. You +should git gassin'--I don't think." + +The man's mean face was alight with brutish glee. He felt he had handed +the other a pretty retort. And in his satisfaction he snatched up his +glass and drank off its contents at a gulp. Indifferent to the gibe, +Jim smiled his satisfaction as he watched the other drain his glass. + +"You've got no work?" he demanded, as Mansell set it down empty. + +"Sure I ain't," the other grinned. "An'," he added, under the warming +influence of the spirit, "I ain't worritin' a heap neither. My credit's +good with the boardin'-house boss. Y' see," he went on, his pride of +craft in his gimlet eyes, "I'm kind o' known here for a boss sawyer. +When they want sawyers there's allus work for Dick Mansell." + +"Your credit's good?" Truscott went on, ignoring the man's boasting. +"Then you have no money?" + +"I allows the market's kind o' low." + +Mansell's mood had become one of clumsy jocularity under the influence +of the brandy. + +"If you can get work so easily, why don't you?" Truscott demanded, +filling the two glasses again as he spoke. + +Mansell seated himself on the bed unbidden. + +"Wal," he began expansively, "I'm kind o' holiday-makin', as they say. +Y' see," he went on with a leer, "I worked so a'mighty hard gittin' +back from the Yukon, I'm kind o' fatigued. Savee? Guess I'll git to +work later. Say, one o' them for me?" he finished up, pointing at the +glasses. + +Truscott nodded, and Mansell helped himself greedily. + +The former fell in with the other's mood. He found him very easy to +deal with. It was just a question of sufficient drink. + +"Well, I don't believe in work, anyway. That is unless it happens to be +my pleasure, too. I worked hard up at Dawson, but it was my pleasure. I +made good money, too--a hell of a sight more than you or anybody else +ever had any idea of." + +"You ran a dandy game," agreed the sawyer. + +"With plenty of customers with mighty fat rolls of money." + +Mansell nodded. + +"I was a fool to quit you," he said regretfully. + +"You were. But it isn't too late. If you aren't yearning to work too +hard." + +Truscott's smile was crafty. And, even with the drink in him, Mansell +saw and understood it. + +"Monkey tricks?" he said. + +"Monkey tricks--if you like." + +Mansell looked over at the bottle. + +"Hand us another horn of that pizen an' I'll listen," he said. + +The other poured out the brandy readily, taking care to be more than +liberal. He watched the sawyer drink, and then, drawing a chair +forward, he sat down. + +"What's that old mill of mine worth?" he asked suddenly. + +They exchanged glances silently. Truscott was watching the effect of +his question, and the other was trying to fathom the meaning of it. + +"I'd say," Mansell replied slowly, giving up the puzzle and waiting for +enlightenment--"I'd say, to a man who needs it bad, it's worth anything +over fifteen thousand dollars. Fer scrappin', I'd say it warn't worth +but fi' thousand." + +"I was thinking of a man needing it." + +"Fifteen thousand an' over." + +Truscott leant forward in his chair and became confidential. + +"Dave wants to buy that mill, and I'm going to sell it to him," he said +impressively. "I'll take twenty thousand for it, and get as much more +as I can. See? Now I don't want that money. I wouldn't care to handle +his money. I've got plenty, and the means of making heaps more if I +need it." + +He paused to let his words sink in. Mansell nodded with his eyes on the +brandy bottle. As yet he did not see the man's drift. He did not see +where he came in. He waited, and Truscott went on. + +"Now what would you be willing to do for that twenty thousand--or +more?" he asked smilingly. + +The other turned his head with a start, and, for one fleeting second, +his beady eyes searched his companion's face. He saw nothing there but +quiet good-nature. It was the face of the old Jim Truscott--used to +hide the poisoned mind behind it. + +"Give me a drink," Mansell demanded roughly. "This needs some thinkin'." + +Truscott handed him the bottle, and watched him while he drank nearly +half a tumbler of the raw spirit. + +"Well?" + +Mansell breathed heavily. + +"Seems to me I'd do--a heap," he said at last. + +"Would you take a job as sawyer in Dave's mill, and--and act under my +orders?" + +"It kind o' depends on the orders." For some reason the lumberman +became cautious. The price was high--almost too high for him. + +Truscott suddenly rose from his seat, and crossing the room, turned the +key in the door. Then he closed the window carefully. He finally +glanced round the room, and came back to his seat. Then, leaning +forward and lowering his tone, he detailed carefully all that the +lumberman would have to do to earn the money. It took some time in the +telling, but at last he sat back with a callous laugh. + +"That's all it is, Dick, my boy," he cried familiarly. "You will be as +safe as houses. Not only that, but I may not need your help at all. I +have other plans which are even better, and which may do the job +without your help. See? This is only in case it is necessary. You see I +don't want to leave anything to chance. I want to be ready. And I want +no after consequences. You understand? You may get the money for doing +nothing. On the other hand, what you have to do entails little enough +risk. The price is high, simply because I do not want the money, and I +want to be sure I can rely on you." + +The man's plausibility impressed the none too bright-witted lumberman. +Then, too, the brandy had done its work. His last scruple fled, +banished by his innate crookedness, set afire by the spirit and the +dazzling bait held out to him. It was a case of the clever rascal +dominating the less dangerous, but more brutal, type of man. Mansell +was as potter's clay in this man's hands. The clay dry would have been +impossible to mould, but moistened, the artist in villainy had no +difficulty in handling it. And the lubricating process had been +liberally supplied. + +"I'm on," Mansell said, his small eyes twinkling viciously. "I'm on +sure. Twenty thousand! Gee! But I'll need it all, Jim," he added +greedily. "I'll need it all, and any more you git. You said it +yourself, I was to git the lot. Yes," as though reassuring himself, +"I'm on." + +Truscott nodded approvingly. + +"Good boy," he said pleasantly. "But there's one thing more, Dick. I +make it a proviso you don't go on any teetotal racket. I know you. +Anyway, I don't believe in the water wagon worth a cent. It don't suit +you in work like this. But don't get drunk and act foolish. Keep on the +edge. See? Get through this racket right, and you've got a small pile +that'll fill your belly up like a distillery--after. You'll get the +stuff in a bundle the moment you've done the work." + +Mansell reached out for the bottle without invitation, picked it up, +and put the neck to his lips. Nor did he put it down till he had +drained it. It was the culminating point. The spirit had done its work, +and as Truscott watched him he knew that, body and soul, the man was +his. The lumberman flung the empty bottle on the bed. + +"I'll do it, you damned crook," he cried. "I'll do it, but not because +I like you, or anything to do with you. It's the bills I need +sure--green, crisp, crinkly bills. But I'll need fifty of 'em now. Hand +over, pard," he cried exultingly. "Hand over, you imp of hell. I want +fifty now, or I don't stir a hand. Hand 'em----" + +Suddenly the man staggered back and fell on the bed, staring stupidly +at the shining silver-plated revolver in the other's hands. + +"Hold your noise, you drunken hog," Jim cried in a biting tone. "This +is the sort of thing I suppose I can expect from a blasted fool like +you. Now understand this, I'm going to give you that fifty, not because +you demand it, but to seal our compact. And by the Holy Moses, when +you've handled it, if you attempt to play any game on me, I'll blow you +to hell quicker than any through mail could carry you there. Get that, +and let it sink into your fool brain." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE SUMMER RAINS + + +Truscott looked up from his paper and watched the rain as it hissed +against the window. It was falling in a deluge, driven by a gale of +wind which swept the woodlands as though bent on crushing out the last +dignity of the proud forest giants. The sky was leaden, and held out no +promise of relenting. It was a dreary prospect, yet to the man watching +it was a matter of small moment. + +It was nearly midday, and as yet he had not broken his fast. In fact +his day was only just beginning. His appearance told plainly the story +of his previous night's dissipation. Still, his mood was in no way +depressed--he was too well seasoned to the vicious life he had adopted +for that. Besides, the prosperity of Malkern brought much grist to his +mill, and its quality more than made up for the after effects of his +excesses. + +He turned to his paper again. It was a day old. A large head-line faced +him announcing the spreading of the railway strike. Below it was a +column describing how business was already affected, and how, shortly, +if a settlement were not soon arrived at, it was feared that the +trans-continental traffic could only be kept open with the aid of +military engineers. The rest of the paper held no interests for him; he +had only read this column, and it seemed to afford him food for much +thought. He had read it over twice, and was now reading it for a third +time. + +At last he threw the paper aside and walked across to the table to pour +himself out a drink. The thought of food sickened him. The only thing +possible was a whiskey-and-milk, and he mixed the beverage and held it +to his lips. But the smell of it sickened him, and he set it down and +moved away to the window. + +There was little enough to attract him thither, but he preferred the +prospect to the sight and smell of whiskey at that hour of the day. +After some moments he made another attempt on his liquid breakfast. He +knew he must get it down somehow. He turned and looked at it, +shuddered, and turned again to the window. And at that instant he +recognized the great figure of Dave, clad from head to foot in +oilskins, making his way back from the depot to the mill. + +The sight fixed his attention, and all the venom in his distorted +nature shone in the wicked gleam that sprang into his eyes. His blood +was fired with hatred. + +"Betty for you? Never in your life," he muttered at the passing figure. +"Never in mine, Dave, my boy. It's you and me for it, and by God I'll +never let up on you!" + +All unconscious of the venomous thoughts the sight of him had inspired, +Dave strode on through the rain. He was deep in his own concerns, and +at that moment they were none too pleasant. The deluge of rain damped +his spirits enough, but the mail he had just received had brought him +news that depressed him still more. The Engineers' Union had called for +a general cessation of work east of Winnipeg, and he was wondering how +it was likely to affect him. Should his engineers go out, would it be +possible to replace them? And if he could, how would he be able to cope +with the trouble likely to ensue? He could certainly fall in with the +Union's demands, but--well, he would wait. It was no use anticipating +trouble. + +But more bad news was awaiting him when he reached his office. Dawson, +in his absence, had opened a letter which had arrived by runner from +Bob Mason, the foreman of the camps up in the hills. + +Dawson was no alarmist. He always looked to Dave for everything when a +crisis confronted them. He felt that if not a crisis, something very +like it was before them now, and so he calmly handed Mason's letter to +his boss, confident in the latter's capacity to deal with the situation. + +"This come along by hand," he said easily. "Guess, seein' it's wrote +'important' on it, I opened it." + +Dave nodded while he threw off his oilskins. He made no particular +haste, and deposited his mail on his desk before he took the letter +from his foreman. At last, however, he unfolded the sheet of foolscap +on which it was written, and read the ominous contents. It was a long +letter dealing with the business of the camps, but the one paragraph +which had made the letter important threw all the rest into +insignificance. It ran-- + + +"I regret to have to report that an epidemic of mountain fever has +broken out in two of our camps--the new No. 8 and No. 1. We have +already nearly eighty cases on the sick list, chiefly amongst the new +hands from Ottawa who are not yet acclimatized. The summer rains have +been exceedingly heavy, which in a large measure accounts for the +trouble. I shall be glad if you will send up medical aid, and a supply +of drugs, at once. Dysentery is likely to follow, and you know what +that means. + +"We are necessarily short-handed now, but, by increasing hours and +offering inducements, and by engaging any stray hands that filter up to +the camps, I hope to keep the work going satisfactorily. I am isolating +the sick, of course, but it is most important that you send me the +medical aid at once," etc., etc. + + +Dave was silent for a while after reading the letter, and the gravity +of his expression was enhanced by the extreme plainness of his +features. His steady eyes were looking out through the open doorway at +the mill beyond, as though it were some living creature to whom he was +bound by ties of the deepest affection, and for whom he saw the +foreshadowing of disaster. At last he turned. + +"Damn the rain," he said impatiently. Then he added, "I'll see to it." + +Dawson glanced quickly at his chief. + +"Nothin' I ken do, boss?" he inquired casually. + +A grim smile played over Dave's rugged features. + +"Nothing, I guess," he said, "unless you can fix a nozzle on to +heaven's water-main and turn it on to the strikers down east." + +The other shook his head seriously. + +"I ain't worth a cent in the plumbin' line, boss," he said. + +Dawson left the office. The mill claimed him at all times. He never +neglected his charge, and rarely allowed himself long absences beyond +the range of its strident music. The pressure of work seemed to +increase every day. He knew that the strain on his employer was +enormous, and somehow he would have been glad if he could have shared +this new responsibility. + +Dave had just taken his slicker from the wall again when Dawson came +back to the door. + +"Say, ther's that feller Mansell been around this mornin' lookin' fer a +job. I sed he'd best come around to-morrer. I didn't guess I'd take him +on till I see you. He's a drunken bum anyway." + +Dave nodded. + +"He used to be a dandy sawyer," he said, "and we need 'em. Is he +drinking now?" + +"I've heard tell. He stank o' whiskey's mornin'. That's why I passed +him on. Yes, he's a dandy sawyer, sure. He was on the 'water wagon' +'fore he went off up north with young Truscott. Mebbe he'll sober up +agin--if we put him to work." + +Dave clenched the matter in his decided way. + +"Put him on the 'time sheet' to-morrow, and set him on the No. 1 +rollers, beside our night office. You can keep a sharp eye on him +there. He's a bit of a backslider, but if giving him a job'll pull him +up and help him, why, give it him. We've no right to refuse." + +He struggled into his slicker again as Dawson went off. He inspected +the weather outside with no very friendly eye. It meant so much to him. +At the moment the deluge was like a bursting waterspout, and the yards +were like a lake dotted with islands of lumber. But he plunged out into +it without a moment's hesitation. His work must go on, no matter what +came. + +He hurried off in the direction of Chepstow's house. It was some time +since he had seen his friend, and though the cause of his present visit +was so serious, he was glad of the opportunity of making it. + +Tom Chepstow saw him coming, and met him on the veranda. He was always +a man of cheery spirits, and just now, in spite of the weather, he was +well enough satisfied with the world. Matters between Betty and Jim +Truscott had been settled just as he could wish, so there was little to +bother him. + +"I was really considering the advisability of a telephone from here to +your office, Dave," he said, with a smiling welcome. "But joking apart, +I never seem to see you now. How's things down there? If report says +truly, you're doing a great work." + +Dave shook his head. + +"The mills are," he said modestly. + +Chepstow laughed heartily. + +"That's your way of putting it. You and the mills are one. Nobody ever +speaks of one without including the other. You'll never marry, my boy. +You are wedded to the shriek of your beloved buzz-saws. Here, take off +those things and come in. We've got a drop of Mary's sloe gin +somewhere." + +They went into the parlor, and Dave removed his oilskins. While he hung +them to drain on a nail outside, the parson poured him out a wineglass +of his wife's renowned sloe gin. He drank it down quickly, not because +he cared particularly about it, but out of compliment to his friend's +wife. Then he set his glass down, and began to explain his visit. + +"This isn't just a friendly visit, Tom," he said. "It's business. Bad +business. You've got to help me out." + +The parson opened his eyes. It was something quite new to have Dave +demanding help. + +"Go ahead," he said, his keen eyes lighting with amusement. + +Dave drew a bunch of letters from his coat pocket. He glanced over them +hastily, and picked out Mason's and handed it to the other. In picking +it out he had discovered another letter he had left unopened. + +"Read that," he said, while he glanced at the address on the unopened +envelope. + +The handwriting was strange to him, and while Tom Chepstow was reading +Mason's letter he tore the other open. As he read, the gravity of his +face slowly relaxed. At last an exclamation from the parson made him +look up. + +"This is terrible, Dave!" + +"It's a bit fierce," the other agreed. "Have you read it all?" he +inquired. + +"Yes." + +"Then you've got my meaning in coming to you?" + +"I see. I hadn't thought of it." + +Dave smiled into the other's face. + +"You're going to do it for me? It may mean weeks. It may even mean +months. You see, it's an epidemic. At the best it might be only a +couple of weeks. They're tough, those boys. On the other hand it might +mean--anything to me." + +Chepstow nodded. He understood well enough what an epidemic of mountain +fever in his lumber camps must mean to Dave. He understood the +conditions under which he stood with regard to his contract. A +catastrophe like that might mean ruin. And ruin for Dave would mean +ruin for nearly all connected with Malkern. + +"Yes, I'll do it, Dave. Putting all friendship on one side, it is +clearly my duty. Certainly. I'll go up there and lend all the aid I +possibly can. You must outfit me with drugs and help." + +Dave held out his hand, and the two men gripped. + +"Thanks, Tom," he said simply, although he experienced a world of +relief and gratitude. "I wouldn't insult you with a bribe before you +consented, but when you come back there's a thumping check for your +charities lying somewhere around my office." + +The parson laughed in his whole-hearted fashion, while his friend once +more donned his oilskins. + +"I'm always open to that sort of bribery, old boy," he said, and was +promptly answered by one of Dave's slow smiles. + +"That's good," he said. Then he held up his other letter, but he did +not offer it to be read. + +"Betty told you what happened at my office the other day--I mean, what +happened to Jim Truscott?" The parson's face clouded with swift anger. + +"The ras----" + +"Just so. Yes, we had some bother; but he's just sent me this. A most +apologetic letter. He offers to sell me his mill now. I wanted to buy +it, you know. He wants twenty thousand dollars cash for it. I shall +close the deal at once." He laughed. + +"Hard up, I s'pose?" + +Dave shook his head. + +"I don't think so. His change of front is curious, though," he went on +thoughtfully. "However, that don't matter. I want the mill, and--I'm +going to buy. So long. I've got to go and look at that piece of new +track I'm getting laid down. My single line to the depot isn't +sufficient. I'll let you know about starting up to the camps. I've got +a small gang of lumber-jacks coming up from Ottawa. Maybe I'll get you +to go up with them later. Thanks, Tom." + +The two men shook hands again, and Dave departed. + +He battled his way through the driving rain to his railroad +construction, and on the road he thought a good deal of Truscott's +neglected letter. There was something in its tone he could not convince +himself about. Why, he asked himself, should he, so closely following +on the events which had happened in his office, deliberately turn round +and display such a Christian-like spirit? Somehow it didn't seem to +suit him. It didn't carry conviction. Then there was the letter; its +wording was too careful. It was so deliberately careful that it +suggested a suppression of real feeling. This was his impression, and +though Dave was usually an unsuspicious man, he could not shake it off. + +He thought of little else but that letter all the way to his works, and +after reviewing the man's attitude from what, in his own simple +honesty, he considered to be every possible standpoint, he finally, +with a quaint, even quixotic, kindliness assured himself that there +could after all be but one interpretation to it. The man was penitent +at his painful exhibition before Betty, and his vile accusations +against himself. That his moral strength was not equal to standing the +strain of a personal interview. That his training up at the Yukon, +where he had learned the sordid methods of a professional gambler, had +suggested the selling of his mill to him as a sort of peace-offering. +And the careful, stilted tone of the letter itself was due to the +difficulty of its composition. Further, he decided to accept his offer, +and do so in a cordial, friendly spirit, and, when opportunity offered, +to endeavor, by his own moral influence, to drag him back to the paths +of honest citizenship. This was the decision to which his generous +nature prompted him. But his head protested. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE OLD MILLS + + +When Dave reached the construction camp the work was in full swing. The +men, clad in oilskins, paid little heed to the rain. Ahead was the gang +spreading the heavy stone gravel bed, behind it came those laying and +trimming ties. Following close upon their heels came others engaged in +setting and bolting the rails, while hard in the rear followed a gang +leveling, checking gauge, and ballasting. It was very rough railroad +construction, but the result was sufficient for the requirements. It +was rapid, and lacked the careful precision of a "permanent way," but +the men were working at high pressure against time. + +Dave saw that all was well here. He exchanged a few words with the +foreman, and gave his orders. Then he passed on, intending to return to +the mill for his buckboard. Crossing the bridge to take a short cut, he +encountered Betty driving home from her school in her uncle's buggy. +She drew up at once. + +"Whither away, Dave?" she cried. Then she hastily turned the dozy old +mare aside, so as to open the wheels to let the man climb in. "Come +along; don't stand there in the rain. Isn't it awful? The river'll be +flooding to-morrow if it doesn't stop soon. Back to the mills?" + +Dave clambered into the buggy and divested himself of his dripping +oilskins. The vehicle was a covered one, and comparatively rain-proof, +even in such a downpour. + +"Well, I guess so," he said. "I'm just going back to get my buckboard. +Then I'm going up to get a look at Jim Truscott's old mill. He's sent +word this morning to say he'll sell it me." + +The girl chirruped at the old mare, but offered no comment. The simple +process of driving over a road nothing could have induced the parson's +faithful beast to leave seemed to demand all her attention. + +"Did he send, or--have you seen him?" she asked him presently. And it +was plain that the matter was of unusual interest to her. + +"I said he sent. He wrote to me--and mailed the letter." + +"Was there anything--else in the letter?" + +The girl's tone was cold enough. Dave, watching her, was struck by the +decision in her expression. He wanted to hear what she thought of the +letter. He was anxious to see its effect on her. He handed it to her, +and quietly took the reins out of her hands. + +"You can read it," he said. And Betty eagerly unfolded the paper. + +The mare plodded on, splashing solemnly and indifferently through the +torrential streams flooding the trail, and they were nearly through the +village by the time she handed the letter back and resumed the reins. + +"Curious. I--I don't think I understand him at all," she said gravely. + +"It's an apology," said Dave, anxious for her to continue. + +"Yes, I suppose it is." She paused. "But why to you?" Then a whimsical +smile spread over her round face. "I thought you two were nearly +square. Now, if the apology had come to me----" + +"Yes, I hadn't thought of that." + +Both sat thinking for some time. They arrived at the point where the +trail turned up to Tom Chepstow's house. Betty ignored the turning and +kept on. + +"Is that mill worth all that money?" she asked suddenly. + +Dave shook his head. + +"You've come too far," he said, pointing at her uncle's house. And the +girl smiled. + +"I want to have a look at the mill. Why are you buying it at that +price, Dave?" + +"Because there's no time to haggle, and--I want it." + +Betty nodded. She was looking straight ahead, and the man failed to see +the tender light his words had conjured in her eyes. She knew that Dave +would never have paid that money to anybody else, no matter how much he +wanted the mill. He was doing it for Jim. However unworthy the man was, +it made no difference to his large-hearted nature. + +The tenderness still lingered in her eyes when she turned to him again. + +"Is Jim hard up?" she inquired. + +The frigidity of her tone was wholly at variance with her expression. +But it told plainly of her feelings for the subject of her inquiry. +Dave shook his head. + +"From all I've heard, and from his own talk, I'd guess not." + +Betty suddenly became very angry. She wanted to shake somebody, even +Dave, since he was the only person near enough to be shaken. + +"He says in his letter, 'as the mill is no further use to me,'" she +cried indignantly. "Dave, your Christian spirit carries you beyond all +bounds. You have no right to give all that money for it. It isn't worth +it anyway. You are--and he--he--oh, I've simply no words for him!" + +"But your uncle, with due regard for his cloth, has," Dave put in +quickly. + +Betty's indignation was gone in an instant, lost in the laugh which +responded to his dry tone. + +He had no intention of making her laugh, but he was glad she did so. It +told him so much. It reassured him of something on which he had needed +reassurance. Her parting with Jim, giving up as it did the habit and +belief of years, had troubled him. Then in some measure he had felt +himself responsible, although he knew perfectly well that no word of +his had ever encouraged her on the course she had elected. He was +convinced now. Her regard for Jim was utterly dead, had been dead far +longer than probably even she realized. + +With this conviction a sudden wild hope leapt within him; but, like +summer lightning, its very brilliancy left the night seemingly darker. +No, it could never be now. Betty liked him, liked him only too well. +Her frank friendliness was too outspoken, and then--ah, yes, he knew +himself. Did he ever get the chance of forgetting? Did not his mirror +remind him every morning? Did not his hair brushes, even, force it upon +him as they loyally struggled to arrange some order in his obstinate +wiry hair? Did not every chair, even his very bed, cry out at the awful +burden they were called upon to support? Somehow his thoughts made him +rebellious. Why should he be so barred? Why should he be denied the +happiness all men are created for? But in a man like Dave such +rebellion was not likely to find vent in words, or even mood. + +In the midst of his thought the drone of his own distant mills came to +him through the steady hiss of the rain. The sound held him, and he +experienced a strange comfort. It was like an answer to his mute +appeal. It reminded him that his work lay before him. It was a call to +which he was wedded, bound; it claimed his every nerve; it demanded his +every thought like the most exacting mistress; and, for the moment, it +gripped him with all the old force. + +"Say," he cried, holding up a warning finger, untidy with years of +labor, "isn't she booming? Hark at the saws," he went on, his eyes +glowing with pride and enthusiasm. "They're singing to beat the band. +It's real music." + +They listened. + +"Hark!" he went on presently, and Betty's eyes watched him with a +tender smile in their brown depths. "Hear the rise and fall of it as +the breeze carries it. Hear the 'boom' of the 'ninety-footers' as they +drop into the shoots. Isn't it great? Isn't it elegant music?" + +Betty nodded. Her sympathy was with him if she smiled at his words. + +"A lumbering symphony," she said. + +Dave's face suddenly fell. + +"Ah," he said apologetically, "you weren't brought up on a diet of +buzz-saw trimmings." + +Betty shook her head. + +"No," she said gently, "patent food." + +Dave's enthusiasm dropped from him, and his face, unlit by it, had +fallen back into its stern set. At the sight of the almost tragic +change Betty's heart smote her, and she hastened to make amends, +fearful lest he should fail to realize the sympathy she had for him. + +"Ah, no, Dave," she cried. "I know. I understand. I, too, love those +mills for what they mean to you, to us, to Malkern. They are your +world. They are our world. You have slowly, laboriously built them up. +You have made us--Malkern. Your prosperity means happiness and +prosperity to hundreds in our beloved valley. You do not love those +mills for the fortune they are piling up for you, but for the sake of +those others who share in your great profits and whose lives you have +been able to gladden. I know you, Dave. And I understand the real music +you hear." + +The man shook his head, but his voice rang with deep feeling. He knew +that he did not deserve all this girl's words conveyed, but, coming +from her, it was very sweet. + +"Little Betty," he said, "you kind of run away with things. There's a +fellow called 'Dave' I think about a heap. I think about him such a +heap I'm most always thinking of him. He's got ambition bad--so bad he +thinks of precious little else. Then he's most terrible human. You'd +marvel if you knew just how human he was. Now you'd think, maybe, he'd +not want anything he hasn't got, wouldn't you? You'd think he was happy +and content to see everything he undertakes prospering, and other folks +happy. Well, he just isn't, and that's a fact. He's mighty thankful for +mercies received, but there's a heap of other mercies he grumbles +because he hasn't got." + +There was so much sincerity in the man's voice that Betty turned and +stared at him. + +"And aren't you happy, Dave?" she asked, hardly knowing what she said, +but, woman-like, fixing on the one point that appealed to her deepest +sympathy. + +He evaded the direct question. + +"I'm as happy as a third child in playtime," he said; and then, before +she could fully grasp his meaning, "Ah, here's the mill. Guess we'll +pull up right here." + +The old mare came to a standstill, and Dave sprang out before Betty +could answer him. And as soon as she had alighted he led the horse to a +shed out of the rain. + +Then together they explored the mill, and their talk at once became +purely technical. The man became the practical lumberman, and, +note-book in hand, he led the way from room to room and floor to floor, +observing every detail of the conditions prevailing. And all the time +they talked, Betty displaying such an exhaustive knowledge of the man's +craft that at times she quite staggered him. It was a revelation, a +source of constant wonder, and it added a zest to the work which made +him love every moment spent in carrying it out. + +It was over an hour before the inspection was finished, and to Dave it +scarcely seemed more than a matter of minutes. Then there was yet the +drive home with Betty at his side. As they drove away the culminating +point in the man's brief happiness was reached when the girl, with +interest such as his own might have been, pointed out the value of his +purchase. + +"It will take you exactly a week to outfit that mill, I should say," +she said. "Its capacity for big stuff is so small you shouldn't pay a +cent over ten thousand dollars for it." + +Dave smiled. Sometimes Betty's keenness of perception in his own +business made him feel very small. Several times already that morning +she had put things so incisively before him that he found himself +wondering whether he had considered them from the right point of view. +He was about to answer her, but finally contented himself with a +wondering exclamation. + +"For Heaven's sake, Betty, where did you learn it all?" + +It was a delighted laugh that answered him. + +"Where? Where do you think? Why, from the one man competent to teach +me. You forget that I came to you for instruction five years ago." + +The girl's eyes were dancing with pleasure. Somehow the desire for this +man's praise and approval had unconsciously become part of her whole +outlook. Her simple honesty would not let her deny it--showed her no +reason for denying it. She sometimes told herself it was just her +vanity; it was the desire of a pupil for a master's praise. She, as +yet, could see no other reason for it, and would have laughed at the +idea that any warmer feeling could possibly underlie it. + +Dave's pleasure in her acknowledgment was very evident. + +"I haven't forgotten, Betty," he said. "But I never taught you all +that. It's your own clever little head. You could give Joel Dawson a +start and beat him." + +"You don't understand," the girl declared quickly. "It was you who gave +me the ground-work, and then I thought and thought. You see, I--I +wanted to help Jim when he came back." + +Dave had no reply to make. The girl's plain statement had damped his +enthusiasm. He had forgotten Jim. She had done this for love of the +other man. + +"I want you to do me a great favor," she went on presently. "I want it +very--very much. You think I've learned a lot. Well, I want to learn +more. I don't know quite why--I s'pose it's because I'm interested. I +want to see the big lumber being trimmed. I want to see your own mill +in full work, and have what I don't understand explained to me. Will +you do it? Some night. I'd like to see it all in its most inspiring +light. Will you, Dave?" + +She laid a coaxing hand on his great arm, and looked eagerly into his +eyes. At that moment the lumberman would have promised her the world. +And he would have striven with every nerve in his body to fulfil his +promise. + +"Sure," he said simply. "Name your own time." + +And for once the girl didn't thank him in her usual frank way. She +simply drew her hand away and chirruped at the old mare. + +For the rest of the drive home she remained silent. It was as though +Dave's ready, eager promise had suddenly affected her in some +disturbing way. Her brown eyes looked straight ahead along the trail, +and they were curiously serious. + +They reached the man's home. He alighted, and she drove on to her own +destination with a feeling of relief not unmixed with regret. + +Dave's mother had been long waiting dinner for her boy. She had seen +the buggy and guessed who was in it, and as he came up she greeted him +with pride and affection shining in her old eyes. + +"That was Betty?" she inquired, moving across to the dinner-table, +while the man removed his slicker. + +"Yes, ma," he said coolly. He had no desire to discuss Betty with any +one just then, not even with his mother. + +"Driving with her, dear?" she asked, with smiling, searching eyes upon +his averted face. + +"She gave me a lift," Dave replied, coming over and sitting down at the +table. + +His mother, instead of helping him to his food, suddenly came round to +his side and laid one affectionate hand upon his great shoulder. The +contrast in these two had something almost ridiculous in it. He was so +huge, and she was so small. Perhaps the only things they possessed in +common, outside of their mutual adoration, were the courage and +strength which shone in their gray eyes, and the abounding kindliness +of heart for all humanity. But whereas these things in the mother were +always second to her love for her boy, the boy's first thought and care +was for the great work his own hands had created. + +"Dave," she said very gently, "when am I going to have a daughter? I'm +getting very, very old, and I don't want to leave you alone in the +world." + +The man propped his elbow on the table and rested his head on his hand. +His eyes were almost gloomy. + +"I don't want to lose you, ma," he said. "It would break me up ter'ble. +Life's mostly lonesome anyhow." Then he looked keenly up into her face, +and his glance was one of concern. "You--you aren't ailing any?" + +The old woman shook her head, and her eyes smiled back at him. + +"No, boy, I'm not ailing. But I worry some at times. You see, I like +Betty very, very much. In a different way, I'm almost as fond of her as +you are----" + +Dave started and was about to break in, but his mother shook her head, +and her hand caressed his cheek with infinite tenderness. + +"Why don't you marry her, now--now that the other is broken off----" + +But Dave turned to her, and, swept by an almost fierce emotion, would +not be denied. + +"Why, ma? Why?" he cried, with all the pent-up bitterness of years in +the depth of his tone. "Look at me! Look at me! And you ask me why." He +held out his two hands as though to let her see him as he was. "Would +any woman think of me--look at me with thoughts of love? She couldn't. +What am I? A mountain of muscle, brawn, bone, whatever you will, with a +face and figure even a farmer would hate to set up over a corn patch at +harvest time." He laughed bitterly. "No--no, ma," he went on, his tone +softening, and taking her worn hand tenderly in his. "There are folks +made for marriage, and folks that aren't. And when folks that aren't +get marrying they're doing a mean thing on the girl. I'm not going to +think a mean thing for Betty--let alone do one." + +His mother moved away to her seat. + +"Well, boy, I'll say no more, but I'm thinking a time'll come when +you'll be doing a mean thing by Betty if you don't, and she'll be the +one that'll think it----" + +"Ma!" + +"The dinner's near cold." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +BETTY DECIDES + + +Two nights later Dave was waiting in the tally room for his guests to +arrive. The place was just a corner partitioned off from the milling +floor. It was here the foreman kept account of the day's work--a bare +room, small, and hardly worth the name of "office." Yet there was work +enough done in it to satisfy the most exacting master. + +The master of the mills had taken up a position in the narrow doorway, +in full view of the whole floor, and was watching the sawyer on No. 1. +It was Mansell. He beheld with delight the wonderful skill with which +the man handled the giant logs as they creaked and groaned along over +the rollers. He appeared to be sober, too. His deliberate movements, +timed to the fraction of a second, were sufficient evidence of this. He +felt glad that he had taken him on his time-sheet. Every really skilful +sawyer was of inestimable value at the moment, and, after all, this +man's failing was one pretty common to all good lumbermen. + +Dawson came up, and Dave nodded in the sawyer's direction. + +"Working good," he observed with satisfaction. + +"Too good to last, if I know anything," grumbled the foreman. "He'll +get breakin' out, an then---- I've a mind to set him on a 'buzz-saw'. +These big saws won't stand for tricks if he happens to git around with +a 'jag' on." + +"You can't put a first-class sawyer on to a 'buzzer,'" said Dave +decisively. "It's tantamount to telling him he doesn't know his work. +No, keep him where he is. If he 'signs' in with a souse on, push him +out till he's sober. But so long as he's right let him work where he +is." + +"Guess you're 'boss' o' this lay-out," grumbled the foreman. + +"Just so." + +Then, as though the matter had no further concern for him, Dawson +changed the subject. + +"There's twenty 'jacks' scheduled by to-night's mail," he said, as +though speaking of some dry-goods instead of a human freight. + +"They're for the hills to-night. Mr. Chepstow's promised to go up and +dose the boys for their fever. I'm putting it to him to-night. He'll +take 'em with him. By the way, I'm expecting the parson and Miss Betty +along directly. They want to get a look at this." He waved an arm in +the direction of the grinding rollers. "They want to see it--busy." + +Dawson was less interested in the visitors. + +"I see 'em as I come up," he said indifferently. "Looked like they'd +been around your office." + +Dave turned on him sharply. + +"Go down and bring 'em along up. And say--get things ready for sending +up to the camps to-night. Parson'll have my buckboard and the black +team. He's got to travel quick. They can come right away back when he's +got there. See he's got plenty of bedding and rations. Load it down +good. There's a case of medical supplies in my office. That goes with +him. Then you'll get three 'democrats' from Mulloc's livery barn for +the boys. See they've got plenty of grub too." + +When Dave gave sharp orders, Dawson simply listened and obeyed. He +understood his employer, and never ventured criticism at such times. He +hurried away now to give the necessary orders, and then went on to find +the visitors. + +Directly he had gone the master of the mills moved over to the sawyer +on No. 1. + +"You haven't forgotten your craft, Mansell," he said pleasantly, his +deep voice carrying, clarion-like, distinctly over the din of the +sawing-floor. + +"Would you fergit how t' eat, boss?" the man inquired surlily, +measuring an oncoming log keenly with his eye. He bore down on a +"jolting" lever and turned the log into a fresh position. Then he leant +forward and tipped the end of it with chalk. Hand and eye worked +mechanically together. He knew to a hairsbreadth just where the +trimming blade should strike the log to get the maximum square of +timber. + +Dave shook his head. + +"It would take some forgetting," he said, with a smile. "You see +there's always a stomach to remind you." + +The log was passing, and the man had a moment's breathing space while +it traveled to the fangs of the rushing saw. He looked up with a pair +of dark, brooding eyes in which shone a peculiarly offensive light. + +"Jest so," he vouchsafed. "I learned this when I learned t' eat, an' +it's filled my belly that long, fi' year ain't like to set me +fergittin'." + +He turned to the rollers and watched the log. He saw it hit the teeth +of the saw plumb on his chalk mark. + +"An awful waste out of a lumberman's life, that five years," Dave went +on, when the crucial moment had passed. "That mill would have been +doing well now, and--and you were foreman." + +He was looking straight into the fellow's mean face. He noted the +terrible inroads drink had made upon it, the sunken eyes, the pendulous +lip, the lines of dissipation in deep furrows round his mouth. He +pitied him from the bottom of his heart, but allowed no softness of +expression. + +"Say," exclaimed the sawyer, with a vicious snap, "when I'm lumberin' I +ain't got time fer rememberin' anything else--which is a heap good. I +don't guess it's good for any one buttin' in when the logs are rollin'. +Guess that log's comin' right back." + +The man's unnecessary insolence was a little staggering. Yet Dave +rather liked him for it. The independence of the sawyer's spirit +appealed to him. He really had no right to criticize Mansell's past, to +stir up an unpleasant memory for him. + +He knew his men, and he realized that he had overstepped his rights in +the matter. He was simply their employer. It was for him to give +orders, and for them to obey. In all else he must take them as man and +man. He felt now that there was nothing more for him to say, so while +the sawyer clambered over to the return rollers, ready for the second +journey of the log, he walked thoughtfully back to his office. + +At that moment his visitors appeared, escorted by Dawson. The foreman +was piloting them with all the air of a guide and the pride of his +association with the mills. Betty was walking beside him, and while +taking in the wonderful scene that opened out before her, she was +listening to the conversation of the two men. + +The foreman had taken upon himself to tell the parson of the orders he +had received for the night journey, and the details of the preparations +being made for it. The news came to Chepstow unpleasantly, yet he +understood that its urgency must be great, or Dave would never have +decided upon so sudden a journey. He was a little put out, but quite +ready to help his friend. + +It was the first Betty had heard of it. She was astonished and +resentful. She had heard that there was fever up in the hills, but her +uncle had told her nothing of Dave's request to him. Therefore, before +greetings had been exchanged, and almost before the door of the tally +room had closed upon the departing foreman, she opened a volley of +questions upon him. + +"What's this about uncle going up to the hills to-night, Dave?" she +demanded. "Why has it been kept secret? Why so sudden? Why to-night?" + +Her inquiring glance turned from one to the other. + +Dave made no hurry to reply. He was watching the play of the strong, +eager young face. The girl's directness appealed to him even more than +her beauty. To-night she looked very pretty in a black clinging gown +which made her look almost fragile. She seemed so slight, so delicate, +yet her whole manner had such reserve of virile force. He thought now, +as he had often thought before, she possessed a brain much too big and +keen for her body, yet withal so essentially womanly as to be something +to marvel at. + +The girl became impatient. + +"Why wasn't I told? For goodness' sake don't stand there staring, Dave." + +"There's no secrecy exactly, Betty," the lumberman said, "that is, +except from the folks in the village. You see, anything likely to check +our work, such as fever up in the camps, is liable to set them worrying +and talking. We didn't mean to keep it from you----" + +"Yes, yes," the girl broke in. "But why this hurry? Why to-night?" + +And so she forced Dave into a full explanation, which alone would +satisfy her. At the end of it she turned to her uncle, who had stood +quietly by enjoying the manner in which she dictated her will upon the +master of the mills. + +"It's an awful shame you've got to go, uncle, especially while you've +got all the new church affairs upon your hands. But I quite see Dave's +right, and we must get the boys well as quickly as possible. We've got +to remember that these mills are not only Dave's. They also belong to +Malkern--one might almost say to the people of this valley. It is the +ship, and--and we are its freight. So we start at midnight. Does auntie +know?" + +Instantly two pairs of questioning eyes were turned upon her. That +coupling of herself with her uncle in the matter had not escaped them. + +"Your Aunt Mary knows I am going some time. But she hasn't heard the +latest development, my dear," her uncle said. "But--but you said 'we' +just now?" + +Dave understood. He knew what was coming. But then he understood Betty +as did no one else. He smiled. + +"Of course I said 'we,'" Betty exclaimed, with a laugh which only +served to cloak the resolve that lay behind it. "You are not going +alone. Besides, you can physic people well enough, uncle dear, but you +can't nurse them worth--worth a cent. School's all right, and can get +on without me for a while. Well?" She smiled quickly from one to the +other. "Well, we're ready, aren't we? We can't let this interfere with +our view of the mill." + +Her uncle shook his head. + +"You can't go up there, Betty," he said seriously. "You can't go about +amongst those men. They're good fellows. They're men. But----" he +looked over at Dave as though seeking support, a thing he rarely +needed. But he was dealing with Betty now, and where she was concerned, +there were times when he felt that a little support might be welcome. + +Dave promptly added his voice in support of his friend's protest. + +"You can't go, little Betty," he said. "You can't, little girl," he +reiterated, shaking his shaggy head. "You think you know the +lumber-jacks, and I'll allow you know them a lot. But you don't know +'em up in those camps. They're wild men. They're just as savage as +wolves, and foolish as babes. They're just great big baby men, and as +irresponsible as half-witted schoolboys. I give you my word I can't let +you go up. I know how you want to help us out. I know your big heart. +And I know still more what a help you'd be----" + +"And that's just why I'm going," Betty snapped him up. That one +unfortunate remark undid all the impression his appeal might otherwise +have made. And as the two men realized the finality of her tone, they +understood the hopelessness of turning her from her purpose. + +"Uncle dear," she went on, "please say 'yes.' Because I'm going, and +I'd feel happier with your sanction. Dave," she turned with a smile +upon the lumberman, "you've just got to say 'yes,' or I'll never--never +let you subscribe to any charity or--or anything I ever get up in +Malkern again. Now you two dears, mind, I'm going anyway. I'll just +count three, and you both say 'yes' together." + +She counted deliberately, solemnly, but there was a twinkle in her +brown eyes. + +"One--two--three!" + +And a simultaneous "Yes" came as surely as though neither had any +objection to the whole proceeding. And furthermore, both men joined in +the girl's laugh when they realized how they had been cajoled. To them +she was quite irresistible. + +"I don't know whatever your aunt will say," her uncle said lugubriously. + +"It's not so much what she'll say as--as what may happen up there," +protested Dave, his conscience still pricking him. + +But the girl would have no more of it. + +"You are two dear old--yes, 'old'--sillies. Now, Dave, the mills!" + +Betty carried all before her with these men who were little better than +her slaves. They obeyed her lightest command hardly knowing they obeyed +it. Her uncle's authority, whilst fully acknowledged by her, was +practically non-existent. Her loyalty to him and her love for both her +guardians left no room for the exercise of authority. And Dave--well, +he was her adviser in all things, and like most people who have an +adviser, Betty went her own sweet way, but in such a manner that made +the master of the mills believe that his help and advice were +practically indispensable to her. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE MILLS + + +Dave obediently led the way out of the tally room to the great milling +floor, and at once they were in the heart of his world. + +It was by no means new to Betty; she had seen it all before, but never +had the mills been driven at such a pressure as now, and the sensation +the knowledge gave her was one which demanded the satisfaction of +optical demonstration. She was thrilled with a sense of emergency. The +roar of the machinery carried with it a meaning it had never held +before. There was a current of excitement in the swift, skilful +movements of the sawyers as they handled the mighty logs. + +To her stirred imagination there was a suggestion of superhuman agency, +of some nether world, in the yellow light of the flares which lit that +vast sea of moving rollers. As she gazed out across it at the dim, +distant corners she felt as though at any moment the machinery might +suddenly become manned by hundreds of hideous gnomes, such as she had +read of in the fairy tales. Yet it was all real, real and human, and +Dave was the man who controlled, whose brain and eyes watched over +every detail, whose wonderful skill and power were carrying that +colossal work to the goal of success. As she looked, she sighed. She +envied the man whose genius had made all this possible. + +Above the roar Dave's voice reached her. + +"This is only part of it," he said; "come below." + +And she followed him to the spiral iron staircase which led to the +floor below. Her uncle brought up the rear. + +At ordinary times the lower part of the mills was given over to the +shops for the manufacture of smaller lumber, building stuff, doors and +windows, flooring, and tongue and groove. Betty knew this. She knew +every shop by heart, just as she knew most of the workmen by sight. But +now it was all changed. The partitions had been torn down, and the +whole thrown into one floor. It was a replica of the milling floor +above. + +Here again were the everlasting rollers; here again were the tremendous +logs traveling across and across the floor; here again were the roar +and shriek of the gleaming saws. The girl's enthusiasm rose. Her eyes +wandered from the fascinating spectacle to the giant at her side. She +felt a lump rise in her throat; she wanted to laugh, she wanted to cry; +but she did neither. Only her eyes shone as she gazed at him; and his +plainness seemed to fall from him. She saw the man standing at her +side, but the great ungainly Dave had gone, leaving in his place only +such a hero as her glowing heart could create. + +They stood there watching, watching. None of the three spoke. None of +them had any words. Dave saw and thought. His great unimaginative head +had no care for the picture side of it. His eyes were on the sawyers, +most of them stripped to the waist in the heat of their labors in the +summer night. To him the interest of the scene lay in the precision and +regularity with which log followed log over the rollers, and the skill +with which they were cut. + +Parson Tom, with a little more imagination, built up in his mind the +future prosperity of their beloved valley, and thanked the Almighty +Providence that It had sent them such a man as Dave. But Betty, in +spite of her practical brain, lost sight of all the practical side of +the work. As she watched she was living in such a dream as only comes +once in a lifetime to any woman. At that moment her crown of glory was +set upon Dave's rough head. All she had hoped for, striven for all her +life seemed so small at the thought of him. And the delight of those +moments became almost painful. She had always looked upon him as "her +Dave," her beloved "chum," her adviser, her prop to lean on at all +times. But no. No, no; he was well and truly named. He was no one's +Dave. He was just Dave of the Mills. + +They moved on to a small doorway, and passing along a protected gallery +they worked their way toward the "boom." The place was a vast backwater +of the river, enlarged to accommodate millions of feet of logs. It was +packed with a mass of tumbled lumber, over which, in the dim light +thrown by waste fire, a hundred and more "jacks" could be seen, +clambering like a colony of monkeys, pushing, prizing, easing, pulling +with their peaveys to get the logs freed, so that the grappling tackle +could seize and haul them up out of the water to the milling floors +above. + +Here again they paused and silently gazed at the stupendous work going +on. There was no more room for wonder either in the girl or her uncle. +The maximum had been reached. They could only silently stare. + +Dave was the first to move. His keen eyes had closely watched the work. +He had seen log after log fly up in the grapple of the hydraulic +cranes, he had seen them shot into the gaping jaws of the building, he +had seen that not an idle hand was down there in the boom, and he was +satisfied. Now he wanted to go on. + +"There's the 'waste,'" he said casually. "But I guess you've seen that +heaps, only it's a bit bigger now, and we've had to build two more +'feeders.'" + +Betty answered him, and her tone was unusually subdued. + +"Let's see it all, Dave," she said, almost humbly. + +All her imperiousness had gone, and in its place was an ecstatic desire +to see all and anything that owed its existence to this man. + +Dave strode on. He was quite unconscious of the change that had taken +place in Betty's thoughts of him. To him these things had become +every-day matters of his work. They meant no more to him than the +stepping-stones toward success which every one who makes for +achievement has to tread. + +Their way took them up another iron staircase outside the main +building. At the top of it was an iron gallery, which passed round two +angles of the mill, and terminated at the three feeders, stretching out +from the mills to the great waste fire a hundred yards away. From this +gallery there was an inspiring view of the "everlasting" fire. It had +been lit when the mill first started its operations years ago, and had +been burning steadily ever since; and so it would go on burning as long +as the saws inside continued to rip the logs. + +The feeders were three shafts, supported on iron trestle work, each +carrying an ever-moving, endless bed on which the waste trimmings of +the logs were thrown. These were borne upward and outward for a hundred +yards till the shafts hung high above the blazing mass. Here the +endless band doubled under, and its burden was precipitated below, +where it was promptly devoured by the insatiable flames. + +For some moments they watched the great timber pass on its way to the +fire, and so appalling appeared the waste that Parson Tom protested. + +"This seems to me positively wanton," he said. "Why, the stuff you're +sending on to that fire is perfect lumber. At the worst, what grand +fuel it would make for the villagers." + +Dave nodded his great head. He often felt the same about it. + +"Makes you sicken some to see it go, doesn't it?" he said regretfully. +"It does me. But say, we've got a waste yard full, and the folks in +Malkern are welcome to all they can haul away. Even Mary uses it in her +stoves, but they can't haul or use it fast enough. If it wasn't for +this fire there wouldn't be room for a rat in Malkern inside a year. +Guess it's got to be, more's the pity." + +There was no more to be said, and the three watched the fire in silent +awe. It was a marvelous sight. The dull red-yellow light shone luridly +over everything. The mill on the one hand loomed majestically out of +the dark background of night. The fire, over forty feet in height, lit +the buildings in a curious, uncanny fashion, throwing grotesque and +lurid shadows in every direction. Then all around, on the farther +sides, spread the distant dark outline of ghostly pine woods, whose +native gloom resisted a light, which, by contrast, was so +insignificantly artificial. It gave a weird impression that had a +strong effect upon Betty's rapt imagination. + +Dave again broke the spell. He could not spare too much time, and, as +they moved away, Betty sighed. + +"It's all very, very wonderful," she said, moving along at his side. +"And to think even in winter, no matter what the snowfall, that fire +never goes out." + +Dave laughed. + +"If it rained like it's been raining to-day for six months," he said, +"I don't guess it could raise more than a splutter." Then he turned to +Tom Chepstow. "Is there anything else you'd like to see? You've got +three hours to midnight." + +But the parson had seen enough; and as he had yet to overhaul the +supplies he was to take up to the hill camps, they made their way back +to the tally room. At the rollers on which Mansell was working Dave +paused with Betty, while her uncle went on. + +They watched a great log appear at the opening over the boom. The +chains of the hydraulic crane creaked under their burden. Dave pointed +at it silhouetted against the light of the waste fire beyond. + +"Watch him," he said. "That's Dick Mansell." + +The pride in his tone was amply justified. Mansell was at the opening, +waiting, peavey in hand. They saw the log dripping and swaying as it +was hauled up until its lower end cleared the rollers. On the instant +the sawyer leant forward and plunged his hook into the soft pine bark. +Then he strained steadily and the log came slowly onward. A whistle, +and the crane was eased an inch at a time. The man held his strain, and +the end lowered ever further over the rollers until it touched. Two +more whistles, and the log was lowered faster until it lay exactly +horizontal, and then the rollers carried it in. Once its balance was +passed, the sawyer struck the grappling chains loose with his peavey, +and, with a rattle, they fell clear, while the prostrate giant lumbered +ponderously into the mill. + +It was all done so swiftly. + +Now Mansell sprang to the foremost end and chalked the log as it +traveled. Then, like a cat, he sprang to the rear of it and measured +with his eye. Dissatisfied, he ran to its side and prized it into a +fresh position, glancing down it, much as a rifleman might glance over +his sights. Satisfied at length, he ran on ahead of the moving log to +his saws. Throwing over a lever, he quickened the pace of the gleaming +blade. On came the log. The yielding wood met the merciless fangs of +the saw upon the chalk line, and passed hissing and shrieking on its +way as though it had met with no obstruction. + +The girl took a deep breath. + +"Splendid," she cried. Well as she knew this work, to-night it appealed +to her with a new force, a deeper and more personal interest. + +"Easy as pie," Dave laughed. Then more seriously, "Yet it's dangerous +as--as hell." + +Betty nodded. She knew. + +"But you don't have many accidents, thank goodness." + +Dave shrugged. + +"Not many--considering. But you don't often see a sawyer with perfectly +sound hands. There's generally something missing." + +"I know. Look at Mansell's arm there." Betty pointed at a deep furrow +on the man's forearm. + +"Yes, Mansell's been through it. I remember when he got that. Like an +Indian holds his first scalp as a sign of his prowess, or the knights +of old wore golden spurs as an emblem of their knighthood, the sawyer +minus a finger or so has been literally 'through the mill,' and can +claim proficiency in his calling. But those are not the dangers I was +figgering on." + +Betty waited for him to go on. + +"Yes," he said solemnly. "It's the breaking saw. That's the terror of a +sawyer's life. And just now of mine. It's always in the back of my head +like a black shadow. One breaking saw would do more damage cutting up +this big stuff than it would take a fire to do in an hour. It would be +the next best thing to bursting a charge of dynamite. Take this saw of +Mansell's. A break, a bend out of the truth, the log slips while it's +being cut. Any of these things. You wouldn't think a 'ninety-footer' +could be thrown far. If any of those things happened, good-bye to +anything or anybody with whom it came into contact. But we needn't to +worry. Let's get in there to your uncle." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +BETTY TAKES COVER + + +In the office they found Parson Tom at work with pencil and note-book. +The latter he closed as they came in. + +"For goodness' sake shut that door behind you," he laughed. "I've been +trying to think of the things I need for my journey to-night, but that +uproar makes it well-nigh impossible." + +The words brought Betty back to matters of the moment. Everything had +been forgotten in the interest of her tour of the mills at Dave's side. +Now she realized that time was short, and she too must make her +preparations. + +Dave closed the door. + +"We'd best get down to the barn and fix things there," he said. "Then +you can get right back home and arrange matters with Mary. Betty could +go on and prepare her." + +The girl nodded her approval. + +"Yes," she said, "and I can get my own things together." + +Both men looked at her. + +She answered their challenge at once, but now there was a great change +in her manner. She no longer laughed at them. She no longer carried +things with a high hand. She intended going up to the camps, but it +almost seemed as though she desired their justification to support her +decision. Somehow that tour of the mills at Dave's side had lessened +her belief in herself. + +"Yes," she said, "I know neither of you wants me to go. Perhaps, from +your masculine point of view, you are both right. But--but I want to +go. I do indeed. This is no mere whim. Uncle, speak up and admit the +necessity for nursing. Who on earth is up there to do it? No one." + +Then she turned to Dave, and her earnest eyes were full of almost +humble entreaty. + +"You won't refuse me, Dave?" she said. "I feel I must go. I feel that +some one, some strange voice, is calling to me to go. That my presence +there is needed. I am only a woman, and in these big schemes of yours +it is ridiculous to think that I should play a part. Yet +somehow--somehow---- Oh, Dave, won't you let me help, if only in this +small way? It will be something for me to look back upon when you have +succeeded; something for me to cherish, this thought that I have helped +you even in so small a way. You won't refuse me. It is so little to +you, and it means so--so much to me." + +Her uncle was watching the grave face of the lumberman; and when she +finished he waited, smiling, for the effect of her appeal. + +It was some moments before Dave answered. Betty's eyes were shining +with eager hope, and at last her impatience got the better of her. + +"You said 'yes' once to-night," she urged softly. + +Her uncle's smile broadened. He was glad the onus of this thing was on +the broad shoulders of his friend. + +"Betty," said Dave at last, looking squarely into her eyes, "will you +promise me to keep to the sick camps, and not go about amongst the +'jacks' who aren't sick without your uncle?" + +There was something in the man's eyes which made the girl drop hers +suddenly. She colored slightly, perhaps with vexation. She somehow felt +awkward. And she had never felt awkward with Dave in her life before. +However, she answered him gladly. + +"I promise--promise willingly." + +"Then I'll not go back on my promise. Go and get ready, little girl," +he said gently. + +She waited for no more. Her eyes thanked him, and for once, though he +never saw it, nor, if he had, would he have understood it, there was a +shyness in them such as had never been there before. + +As the door closed behind her he turned with a sigh to his old friend. + +"Well, Tom," he said, with a dry, half regretful smile, "it strikes me +there are a pair of fools in this room." + +The parson chuckled delightedly. + +"But one is bigger than the other. You wait until Mary sees you. My +word!" + + +Betty hurried out of the mill. She knew the time was all too short; +besides, she did not want to give the men time to change their minds. +And then there was still her aunt to appease. + +Outside in the yards the thirsty red sand had entirely lapped up the +day's rain. It was almost as dry as though the summer rains were mere +showers. The night was brilliantly fine, and though as yet there was no +moon, the heavens were diamond-studded, and the milky way spread its +ghostly path sheer across the sky. Half running in her eagerness, the +girl dodged amongst the stacks of lumber, making her way direct to a +point in the fence nearest to her home. To go round to the gates would +mean a long, circuitous route that would waste at least ten minutes. + +As she sped, the din of the mill rapidly receded, and the shadows +thrown by the flare lights of the yards behind her lengthened and died +out, merged in the darkness of the night beyond their radiance. At the +fence she paused and looked about for the easiest place to climb. It +was high, and the lateral rails were wide apart. It was all the same +whichever way she looked, so, taking her courage in both hands, and +lifting her skirts knee high, she essayed the task. It was no easy +matter, but she managed it, coming down on the other side much more +heavily than she cared about. Still, in her excited state, she didn't +pause to trouble about a trifle like that. + +She was strangely happy without fully understanding the reason. This +trip to the hills would be a break in the monotony of her daily +routine. But somehow it was not that that elated her. She loved her +work, and at no time wanted to shirk it. No, it was not that. Yet it +was something to do with her going. Something to do with the hill +camps; something to do with helping--Dave--ah! Yes, it was that. She +knew it now, and the knowledge thrilled her with a feeling she had +never before experienced. + +Her course took her through a dense clump of pine woods. She was far +away from the direct trail, but she knew every inch of the way. + +Somehow she felt glad of the cool darkness of those woods. Their depth +of shadow swallowed her up and hid her from all the rest of the world, +and, for the moment, it was good to be alone. She liked the feeling +that no one was near her--not even Dave. She wanted to think it all +out. She wanted to understand herself. This delight that had come to +her, this joy. Dave had promised to let her help him in his great work. +It was too good to be true. How she would work. Yes, she would strain +every nerve to nurse the men back to health, so that there should be no +check in the work. + +Suddenly she paused in her thought. Her heart seemed to stand still, +then its thumping almost stifled her. She had realized her true motive. +Yes, she knew it now. It was not the poor sick men she was thinking of. +She was not thinking of her uncle, who would be slaving for sheer love +of his fellow men. No, it was of Dave she was thinking. Dave--her Dave. + +Now she knew. She loved him. She felt it here, here, and she pressed +both hands over her heart, which was beating tumultuously and thrilling +with an emotion such as she had never known before. Never, even in the +days when she had believed herself in love with Jim Truscott. She +wanted to laugh, to cry aloud her happiness to the dark woods which +crowded round her. She wanted to tell all the world. She wanted +everything about her to know of it, to share in it. Oh, how good God +was to her. She knew that she loved Dave. Loved him with a passion that +swept every thought of herself from her fevered brain. She wanted to be +his slave; his--his all. + +Suddenly her passion-swept thoughts turned hideously cold. What of +Dave? Did he?--could he? No, he looked upon her as his little "chum" +and nothing more. How could it be otherwise? Had he not witnessed her +betrothal to Jim Truscott? Had he not been at her side when she +renounced him? Had he not always looked after her as an elder brother? +Had he---- + +She came to a dead standstill in the heart of the woods, gripped by a +fear that had nothing to do with her thoughts. It was the harsh sound +of a voice. And it was just ahead of her. It rang ominously in her ears +at such an hour, and in such a place. She listened. Who could be in +those woods at that hour of the night? Who beside herself? The voice +was so distinct that she felt it must be very, very near. Then she +remembered how the woods echo, particularly at night, and a shiver of +fear swept over her at the thought that perhaps the sound of her own +footsteps had reached the ears of the owner of the voice. She had no +desire to encounter any drunken lumber-jacks in such a place. Her heart +beat faster, as she cast about in her mind for the best thing to do. + +The voice she had first heard now gave place to another, which she +instantly recognized. The recognition shocked her violently. There +could be no mistaking the second voice. It was Jim Truscott's. Hardly +knowing what she did, she stepped behind a tree and waited. + +"I can't get the other thing working yet," she heard Truscott say in a +tone of annoyance. "It's a job that takes longer than I figured on. +Now, see here, you've got to get busy right away. We must get the +brakes on him right now. My job will come on later, and be the final +check. That's why I wanted you to-night." + +Then came the other voice, and, to the listening girl, its harsh note +had in it a surly discontent that almost amounted to open rebellion. + +"Say, that ain't how you said, Jim. We fixed it so I hadn't got to do a +thing till you'd played your 'hand.' Play it, an' if you fail clear +out, then it's right up to me, an' I'll stick to the deal." + +Enlightenment was coming to Betty. This was some gambling plot. She +knew Jim's record. Some poor wretch was to be robbed. The other man was +of course a confederate. But Jim was talking again. Now his voice was +commanding, even threatening. + +"This is no damned child's play; we're going to have no quibbling. You +want that money, Mansell, and you've got to earn it. It's the spirit of +the bargain I want, not the letter. Maybe you're weakening. Maybe +you're scared. Damn it, man! it's the simplest thing--do as I say +and--the money's yours." + +At the mention of the man's name Betty was filled with wonder. She had +seen Mansell at work in the mill. The night shift was not relieved +until six o'clock in the morning. How then came he there? What was he +doing in company with Jim? + +But now the sawyer's voice was raised in downright anger, and the +girl's alarm leapt again. + +"I said I'd stick to the deal," he cried. Then he added doggedly, "And +a deal's a deal." + +Jim's reply followed in a much lower key, and she had to strain to hear. + +"I'm not going to be fooled by you," he said. "You'll do this job when +I say. When I say, mind----" + +But at this point his voice dropped so low that the rest was lost. And +though Betty strained to catch the words, only the drone of the voices +reached her. Presently even that ceased. Then she heard the sound of +footsteps receding in different directions, and she knew the men had +parted. When the silence of the woods had swallowed up the last sound +she set off at a run for home. + +She thought a great deal about that mysterious encounter on her way. It +was mysterious, she decided. She wondered what she should do about it. +These men were plotting to cheat and rob some of Dave's lumber-jacks. +Wasn't it her duty to try and stop them? She was horrified at the +thought of the depths to which Jim had sunk. It was all so paltry, +so--so mean. + +Then the strangeness of the place they had selected for their meeting +struck her. Why those woods, so remote from the village? A moment's +thought solved the matter to her own satisfaction. No doubt Mansell had +made some excuse to leave the mill for a few minutes, and in order not +to prolong his absence too much, Jim had come out from the village to +meet him. Yes, that was reasonable. + +Finally she decided to tell Dave and her uncle. Dave would find a way +of stopping them. Trust him for that. He could always deal with such +things better--yes, even better than her uncle, she admitted to herself +in her new-born pride in him. + +A few minutes later the twinkling lights through the trees showed her +her destination. Another few minutes and she was explaining to her aunt +that she was off to the hill camps nursing. As had been expected, her +news was badly received. + +"It's bad enough that your uncle's got to go in the midst of his +pressing duties," Mrs. Tom exclaimed with heat. "What about the affairs +of the new church? What about the sick folk right here? What about old +Mrs. Styles? She's likely to die any minute. Who's to bury her with him +away? And what about Sarah Dingley? She's haunted--delusions--and +there's no one can pacify her but him. And now they must needs take +you. It isn't right. You up there amongst all those rough men. It's not +decent. It's----" + +"I know, auntie," Betty broke in. "It's all you say. But--but think of +those poor helpless sick men up there, with no comfort. They've just +got to lie about and either get well, or--or die. No one to care for +them. No one to write a last letter to their friends for them. No one +to see they get proper food, and----" + +"Stuff and nonsense!" her aunt exclaimed. "Now you, Betty, listen to +me. Go, if go you must. I'll have nothing to do with it. It's not with +my consent you'll go. And some one is going to hear what I think about +it, even if he does run the Malkern Mills. If--if Dave wasn't so big, +and such a dear good fellow, I'd like--yes, I'd like to box his ears. +Be off with you and see to your packing, miss, and don't forget your +thickest flannels. Those mountains are terribly cold at nights, even in +summer." Then, as the girl ran off to her room, she exploded in a final +burst of anger. "Well there, they're all fools, and I've no patience +with any of 'em." + +It did not take long for Betty to get her few things together and pitch +them into a grip. The barest necessities were all she required, and her +practical mind guided her instinctively. Her task was quite completed +when, ten minutes later, she heard the rattle of buckboard wheels and +her uncle's cheery voice down-stairs in the parlor. + +Then she hurried across to her aunt's room. She knew her uncle so well. +He wouldn't bother to pack anything for himself. She dragged a large +kit bag from under the bed, and, ransacking the bureau, selected what +she considered the most necessary things for his comfort and flung them +into it. It was all done with the greatest possible haste, and by the +time she had everything ready, her uncle joined her and carried the +grips downstairs. In the meantime Mary Chepstow, all her anger passed, +was busily loading the little table with an ample supper. She might +disapprove her niece's going, she might resent the sudden call on her +husband, but she would see them both amply fed before starting, and +that the buckboard was well provisioned for the road. + +For the most part supper was eaten in silence. These people were so +much in the habit of doing for others, so many calls were made upon +them, that such an occasion as this presented little in the way of +emergency. It was their life to help others, their delight, and their +creed. And Mary's protest meant no more than words, she only hesitated +at the thought of Betty's going amongst these rough lumber-jacks. But +even this, on reflection, was not so terrible as she at first thought. +Betty was an unusual girl, and she expected the unusual from her. So +she put her simple trust in the Almighty, and did all she knew to help +them. + +It was not until the meal was nearly over that Chepstow imparted a +piece of news he had gleaned on his way from the mill. He suddenly +looked up from his plate, and his eyes sought his niece's face. She was +lost in a happy contemplation of the events of that night at the mill. +All her thoughts, all her soul was, at that moment, centred upon Dave. +Now her uncle's voice startled her into a self-conscious blush. + +"Who d'you think I met on my way up here?" he inquired, searching her +face. + +Betty answered him awkwardly. "I--I don't know," she said. + +Her uncle reached for the salad, and helped himself deliberately before +he enlightened her further. + +"Jim Truscott," he said at last, without looking up. + +"Jim Truscott?" exclaimed Aunt Mary, her round eyes wondering. Then she +voiced a thought which had long since passed from her niece's mind. +"What was he doing out here at this hour of the night?" + +The parson shrugged. + +"It seems he was waiting for me. He didn't call here, I s'pose?" + +Mary shook her head. Betty was waiting to hear more. + +"I feel sorry for him," he went on. "I'm inclined to think we've judged +him harshly. I'm sure we have. It only goes to show how poor and weak +our efforts are to understand and help our fellows. He is very, very +repentant. Poor fellow, I have never seen any one so down on his luck. +He doesn't excuse himself. In fact, he blames himself even more than we +have done." + +"Poor fellow," murmured Aunt Mary. + +Betty remained silent, and her uncle went on. + +"He's off down east to make a fresh start. He was waiting to tell me +so. He also wanted to tell me how sorry he was for his behavior to us, +to you, Betty, and he trusted you would find it possible to forgive +him, and think better of him when he was gone. I never saw a fellow so +cut up. It was quite pitiful." + +"When's he going?" Betty suddenly asked, and there was a hardness in +her voice which startled her uncle. + +"That doesn't sound like forgiveness," he said. "Don't you think, my +dear, if he's trying to do better you might----" + +Betty smiled into the earnest face. + +"Yes, uncle, I forgive him everything, freely, gladly--if he is going +to start afresh." + +"Doubt?" + +But Betty still had that conversation in the woods in her mind. + +"I mustn't judge him. His own future actions are all that matter. The +past is gone, and can be wiped out. I would give a lot to see +him--right himself." + +"That is the spirit, dear," Aunt Mary put in. "Your uncle is quite +right: we must forgive him." + +Betty nodded; but remained silent. She was half inclined to tell them +all she had heard, but it occurred to her that perhaps she had +interpreted it all wrong--and yet--anyway, if he were sincere, if he +really meant all he had said to her uncle she must not, had no right to +do, or say, anything that could prejudice him. So she kept silent, and +her uncle went on. + +"He's off to-morrow on the east-bound mail. That's why he was waiting +to see me to-night. He told me he had heard I was going up into the +hills, and waited to catch me before I went. Said he couldn't go away +without seeing me first. I told him I was going physicking, that the +camps were down with fever, and the spread of it might seriously +interfere with Dave's work. He was very interested, poor chap, and +hoped all would come right. He spoke of Dave in the most cordial terms, +and wished he could do something to help. Of course, that's impossible. +But I pointed out that the whole future of Malkern, us all, depended on +the work going through. Dave would be simply ruined if it didn't. +There's a tremendous lot of good in that boy. I always knew it. Once he +gets away from this gambling, and cuts out the whiskey, he'll get right +again. I suggested his turning teetotaler, and he assured me he'd made +up his mind to it. Well, Betty my dear, time's up." + +Chepstow rose from the table and filled his pipe. Betty followed him, +and put on her wraps. Aunt Mary stood by to help to the last. + +It was less than an hour from the time of Betty's return home that the +final farewells were spoken and the buckboard started back for the +mill. Aunt Mary watched them go. She saw them vanish into the night, +and slowly turned back across the veranda into the house. They were her +all, her loved ones. They had gone for perhaps only a few weeks, but +their going made her feel very lonely. She gave a deep sigh as she +began to clear the remains of the supper away. Then, slowly, two +unbidden tears welled up into her round, soft eyes and rolled heavily +down her plump cheeks. Instantly she pulled herself together, and +dashed her hand across her eyes. And once more the steady courage which +was the key-note of her life asserted itself. She could not afford to +give way to any such weakness. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +DISASTER AT THE MILL + + +Night closed in leaden-hued. The threat of storm had early brought the +day to a close, so that the sunset was lost in the massing clouds +banking on the western horizon. + +Summer was well advanced, and already the luxurious foliage of the +valley was affected by the blistering heat. The emerald of the trees +and the grass had gained a maturer hue, and only the darker pines +resisted the searching sunlight. The valley was full ripe, and kindly +nature was about to temper her efforts and permit a breathing space. +The weather-wise understood this. + +Dave was standing at his office door watching the approach of the +electric storm, preparing to launch its thunders upon the valley. Its +progress afforded him no sort of satisfaction. Everybody but himself +wanted rain. It had already done him too much harm. + +He was thinking of the letter he had just received from Bob Mason up in +the hills. Its contents were so satisfactory, and this coming rain +looked like undoing the good his staunch friends in the mountain camps +had so laboriously achieved. + +While Mason reported that the fever still had the upper hand, its +course had been checked; the epidemic had been grappled with and held +within bounds. That was sufficiently satisfactory, seeing Chepstow had +only been up there ten days. Then, too, Mason had had cause to +congratulate himself on another matter. A number of recruits for his +work had filtered through to his camps from Heaven and themselves alone +knew where. This was quite good. These men were not the best of +lumbermen, but under the "camp boss" they would help to keep the work +progressing, which, in the circumstances, was all that could be asked. + +A few minutes later Dave departed into the mills. Since the mill up the +river had been converted and set to work, and Simon Odd had been given +temporary charge of it, he shared with Dawson the work of overseeing. + +As he mounted to the principal milling floor the great syren shrieked +out its summons to the night shift, and sent the call echoing and +reechoing down the valley. There was no cessation of work. The "relief" +stood ready, and the work was passed on from hand to hand. + +Dave saw his foreman standing close by No. 1, and he recognized the +relief as Mansell. Dawson was watching the man closely, and judging by +the frown on his face, it was plain that something was amiss. He moved +over to him and beckoned him into the office. + +"What's wrong?" he demanded, as soon as the door was closed. + +Dawson was never the man to choose his words when he had a grievance. +That was one of the reasons his employer liked him. He was so rough, +and so straightforward. He had a grievance now. + +"I ain't no sort o' use for these schoolhouse ways," he said, with the +added force of an oath. + +Dave waited for his next attempt. + +"That skunk Mansell. He's got back to-night. He ain't been on the +time-sheet for nigh to a week." + +"You didn't tell me? Still, he's back." + +Dave smiled into the other's angry face, and his manner promptly drew +an explosion from the hot-headed foreman. + +"Yes, he's back. But he wouldn't be if I was boss. That's the sort o' +Sunday-school racket I ain't no use for. He's back, because you say +he's to work right along. Sort of to help him. Yes, he's back. He's +been fightin'-drunk fer six nights, and I'd hate to say he's dead sober +now." + +"Yet you signed him on. Why?" + +"Oh, as to that, he's sober, I guess. But the drink's in him. I tell +you, boss, he's rotten--plumb rotten--when the drink's in him. I know +him. Say----" + +But Dave had had enough. + +"You say he's sober--well, let it go at that. The man can do his work. +That's the important thing to us. Just now we can't bother with his +morals. Still, you'd best keep an eye on him." + +He turned to his books, and Dawson busied himself with the checkers' +sheets. For some time both men worked without exchanging a word, and +the only interruption was the regular coming of the tally boys, who +brought the check slips of the lumber measurements. + +Through the thin partitions the roar of machinery was incessant, and at +frequent intervals the hoarse shouts of the "checkers" reached them. +But this disturbed them not at all. It was what they were used to, what +they liked to hear, for it told of the work going forward without hitch +of any sort. + +At last the master of the mills looked up from a mass of figures. He +had been making careful calculations. + +"We're short, Dawson," he said briefly. + +"Short by half a million feet," the foreman returned, without even +looking round. + +"How's Odd doing up the river?" + +"Good. The machinery's newer, I guess." + +"Yes. But we can't help that. We've no time for installing new +machinery here. Besides, I can't spare the capital." + +Dawson looked round. + +"'Tain't that," he said. "We're short of the right stuff in the boom. +Lestways, we was yesterday. A hundred and fifty logs. We're doing +better to-day. Though not good enough. It's that dogone fever, I guess." + +"What's in the reserve?" + +"Fifteen hundred logs now. I've drew on them mighty heavy. We've used +up that number twice over a'ready. I'm scairt to draw further. You see, +it's a heap better turning out short than using up that. If we're short +on the cut only us knows it. If we finish up our reserve, and have to +shut down some o' the saws, other folks'll know it, and we ain't +lookin' for that trouble." + +Dave closed his book with a slam. All his recent satisfaction was gone +in the discovery of the shortage. He had not suspected it. + +"I must send up to Mason. It's--it's hell!" + +"It's wuss!" + +Dave swung round on his loyal assistant. + +"Use every log in the reserve. Every one, mind. We've got to gamble. If +Mason keeps us short we're done anyway. Maybe the fever will let up, +and things'll work out all right." + +Dave flung his book aside and stood up. His heavy face was more deeply +lined than it had been at the beginning of summer. He looked to be +nearer fifty than thirty. The tremendous work and anxiety were telling. + +"Get out to the shoots," he went on, in a sharp tone of command he +rarely used. "I'll see to the tally. Keep 'em right at it. Squeeze the +saws, and get the last foot out of 'em. Use the reserve till it's done. +We're up against it." + +Dawson understood. He gave his chief one keen glance, nodded and +departed. He knew, no one better, the tremendous burden on the man's +gigantic shoulders. + +Dave watched him go. Then he turned back to the desk. He was not the +man to weaken at the vagaries of ill fortune. Such difficulties as at +the moment confronted him only stiffened his determination. He would +not take a beating. He was ready to battle to the death. He quietly, +yet earnestly, cursed the fever to himself, and opened and reread +Mason's letter. One paragraph held his attention, and he read it twice +over. + + +"If I'm short on the cut you must not mind too much. I can easily make +it up when things straighten out. These hands I'm taking on are mostly +'green.' I can only thank my stars I'm able to find them up here. I +can't think where they come from. However, they can work, which is the +great thing, and though they need considerable discipline--they're a +rebellious lot--I mean to make them work." + + +It was a great thought to the master of the mills that he had such men +as Bob Mason in his service. He glowed with satisfaction at the +thought, and it largely compensated him for the difficulties besetting +him. He put the letter away, and looked over the desk for a memorandum +pad. Failing to find what he required, he crossed over to a large +cupboard at the far corner of the room. It was roomy, roughly built, to +store books and stationery in. The top shelf alone was in use, except +that Dawson's winter overcoat hung in the lower part. It was on the top +shelf that Dave expected to find the pad he wanted. + +As he reached the cupboard a terrific crash of thunder shook the +building. It was right overhead, and pealed out with nerve-racking +force and abruptness. It was the first attack of the threatened storm. +The peal died out and all became still again, except for the shriek of +the saws beyond the partition walls. He waited listening, and then a +strange sound reached him. So used was he to the din of the milling +floor that any unusual sound or note never failed to draw and hold his +attention. A change of tone in the song of the saws might mean so much. +Now this curious sound puzzled him. It was faint, so faint that only +his practiced ears could have detected it, yet, to him, it was +ominously plain. Suddenly it ceased, but it left him dissatisfied. + +He was about to resume his search when again he started; and the look +he turned upon the door had unmistakable anxiety in it. There it was +again, faint, but so painfully distinct. He drew back, half inclined to +quit his search, but still he waited, wondering. The noise was as +though a farrier's rasp was being lightly passed over a piece of +well-oiled steel. At last he made up his mind. He must ascertain its +meaning, and he moved to leave the cupboard. Suddenly a terrific +grinding noise shrieked harshly above the din of the saws. It +culminated in a monstrous thud. Instinctively he sprang back, and was +standing half-inside the cupboard when a deafening crash shook the +mills to their foundations. There was a fearful rending and smashing of +timber. Something struck the walls of the office. It crashed through, +and a smashing blow struck the cupboard door and hurled him against the +inner wall. He thrust out his arms for protection. The door was fast. +He was a prisoner. + +Now pandemonium reigned. Crash on crash followed in rapid succession. +It was as though the office had become the centre of attack for an +overwhelming combination of forces. The walls and floor shivered under +the terrific onslaught. The very building seemed to totter as though an +earthquake were in progress. But at last the end came with a thunder +upon the cupboard door, the panels were ripped like tinder, and +something vast launched itself through the wrecked woodwork. It struck +the imprisoned man in the chest, and in a moment he was pinned to the +wall, gasping under ribs bending to the crushing weight which felt to +be wringing the very life out of him. + +A deadly quiet fell as suddenly as the turmoil had arisen, and his +quick ears told him that the saws were still, and all work had ceased +in the mill. But the pause was momentary. A second later a great +shouting arose. Men's voices, loud and hoarse, reached him, and the +rushing of heavy feet was significant of the disaster. + +And he was helpless, a prisoner. + +He tried to move. His agony was appalling. His ribs felt to be on the +verge of cracking under the enormous weight that held him. He raised +his arms, but the pain of the effort made him gasp and drop them. Yet +he knew he must escape from his prison. He knew that he was needed +outside. + +The shouting grew. It took a definite tone, and became a cry that none +could mistake. Dave needed no repetition of it to convince him of the +dread truth. The fire spectre loomed before his eyes, and horror nigh +drove him to frenzy. + +In his mind was conjured a picture--a ghastly picture, such as all his +life he had dreaded and shut out of his thoughts. His brain suddenly +seemed to grow too big for his head. It grew hot, and his temples +hammered. A surge of blood rose with a rush through his great veins. +His muscles strung tense, and his hands clenched upon the imprisoning +beam. He no longer felt any pain from the crushing weight. He was +incapable of feeling anything. It was a moment when mind and body were +charged with a maddening force that no other time could command. With +his elbows planted against the wall behind him, with his lungs filled +with a deep whistling breath, he thrust at the beam with every ounce of +his enormous strength put forth. + +He knew all his imprisonment meant. Not to himself alone. Not to those +shouting men outside. It was the mills. Hark! Fire! Fire! The cry was +on every hand. The mills--his mills--were afire! + +He struggled as never before in his life had he struggled. He struggled +till the sweat poured from his temples, till his hands lacerated, till +the veins of his neck stood out like straining ropes, till it seemed as +though his lungs must burst. He was spurred by a blind fury, but the +beam remained immovable. + +Hark! The maddening cry filled the air. Fire! Fire! Fire! It was +everywhere driving him, urging him, appealing. It rang in his brain +with an exquisite torture. It gleamed at him in flaming letters out of +the darkness. His mill! + +Suddenly a cry broke from him as he realized the futility of his +effort. It was literally wrung from him in the agony of his soul; nor +was he aware that he had spoken. + +"God, give me strength!" + +And as the cry went up he hurled himself upon the beam with the fury of +a madman. + +Was it in answer to his prayer? The beam gave. It moved. It was so +little, so slight; but it moved. And now, with every fibre braced, he +attacked it in one final effort. It gave again. It jolted, it lifted, +its rough end tearing the flesh of his chest under his clothing. It +tottered for a moment. He struggled on, his bulging eyes and agonized +gasping telling plainly of the strain. Inch by inch it gave before him. +His muscles felt to be wrenching from the containing tissues, his +breathing was spasmodic and whistling, his teeth were grinding +together. It gave further, further. Suddenly, with a crash, it fell, +the door was wrenched from its hinges, and he was free! + +He dashed out into the wreck of his office. All was in absolute +darkness. He stumbled his way over the debris which covered the floor, +and finally reached the shattered remains of the doorway. + +Now he was no longer in darkness. The milling floor was all too +brilliantly lit by the leaping flames down at the "shoot" end of the +No. 1 rollers. He waited for nothing, but ran toward the fire. Beyond, +dimly outlined in the lurid glow, he could see the men. He saw Dawson +and others struggling up the shoot with nozzle and hose, and he put his +hands to his mouth and bellowed encouragement. + +"Five hundred dollars if you get her under!" he cried. + +If any spur were needed, that voice was sufficient. it was the voice of +the master the lumber-jacks knew. + +Dawson on the lead struggled up, and as he came Dave shouted again. + +"Now, boy! Sling it hard! And pass the word to pump like hell!" + +He reached out over the shoot. Dawson threw the nozzle. And as Dave +caught it a stream of water belched from the spout. + +None knew better than he the narrowness of the margin between saving +and losing the mills. Another minute and all would have been lost. The +whole structure was built of resinous pine, than which there is nothing +more inflammable. The fire had got an alarming hold even in those few +minutes, and for nearly an hour victory and disaster hung in the +balance. Nor did Dave relinquish his post while any doubt remained. It +was not until the flames were fully under control that he left the +lumber-jacks to complete the work. + +He was weary--more weary than he knew. It seemed to him that in that +brief hour he had gone through a lifetime of struggle, both mental and +physical. He was sore in body and soul. This disaster had come at the +worst possible time, and, as a result, he saw in it something like a +week's delay. The thought was maddening, and his ill humor found vent +in the shortness of his manner when Dawson attempted to draw him aside. + +"Out with it, man," he exclaimed peevishly. + +Dawson hesitated. He noticed for the first time the torn condition of +his chief's clothes, and the blood stains on the breast of his shirt. +Then he blurted out his thankfulness in a tone that made Dave regret +his impatience. + +"I'm a'mighty thankful you're safe, boss," he said fervently. Then, +after a pause, "But you--you got the racket? You're wise to it?" + +Dave shrugged. Reaction had set in. Nothing seemed to matter, the cause +or anything. The mill was safe. He cared for nothing else. + +"Something broke, I s'pose," he said almost indifferently. + +"Sure. Suthin' bust. It bust on purpose. Get it?" + +The foreman's face lit furiously as he made his announcement. + +Dave turned on him. All his indifference vanished in a twinkling. + +"Eh? Not--not an accident?" + +In an access of loyal rage Dawson seized him by the arm in a nervous +clutch, and tried to drag him forward. + +"Come on," he cried. "Let's find him. It's Mansell!" + +With a sudden movement Dave flung him off, and the force he used nearly +threw the foreman off his feet. His eyes were burning like two live +coals. + +"Come on!" he cried harshly, and Dawson was left to follow as he +pleased. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE LAST OF THE SAWYER + + +Dave's lead took the foreman in the direction of the wrecked office. +Now, in calmer moments, the full extent of the damage became apparent. +The first three sets of rollers were hopelessly wrecked, and the saws +were twisted and their settings broken and contorted out of all +recognition. Then the fire had practically destroyed the whole of the +adjacent northwest corner of the mill. The office was a mere skeleton, +a shattered shell, and the walls and flooring adjoining had been torn +and battered into a complete ruin. In the midst of all this, half a +dozen heavy logs, in various stages of trimming, lay scattered about +where the machinery happened to have thrown them. + +It was a sickening sight to the master of the mills, but in his present +mood he put the feeling from him, lost in a furious desire to discover +the author of the dastardly outrage. + +He paused for a moment as one great log lying across half a dozen of +the roller beds barred his way. He glanced swiftly over the wreckage. +Then he turned to the man following him. + +"Any of the boys cut up?" he inquired. + +"Some o' them is pretty mean damaged," Dawson replied. "But it ain't +too bad, I guess. I 'lows it was sheer luck. But ther's Mansell. We +ain't located him." + +Mansell was uppermost in his mind. He could think of nothing, and no +one, else. He wanted to get his hands about the fellow's throat. In his +rage he felt that the only thing to give him satisfaction at the moment +would be to squeeze the fellow's life slowly out of him. Dawson was a +savage when roused, nor did he make pretense of being otherwise. If he +came across the sawyer--well, perhaps it was a good thing that Dave was +with him--that is, a good thing for Mansell. + +Dave scrambled over the log and the two men hurried on to the saw that +had been Mansell's. Neither spoke until this was reached. Then Dave +turned. + +"Say, go you right on over by the crane and rake around there. Maybe he +jumped the boom and got out that way. I'll be along directly." + +It was a mere excuse. He wanted to investigate alone. The foreman +obeyed, although reluctantly. + +The moment he was gone, Dave jumped up on the rollers to examine the +machinery that had held the saw. The light of the dying fire was +insufficient, and he was forced to procure a lantern. His first anger +had passed now, and he was thoroughly alert. His practiced eye lost no +detail that could afford the least possible clue to the cause of the +smash. Dawson had said it was Mansell, and that it was no accident. But +then he knew well enough that Dawson had a bad enough opinion of the +sawyer, and since the smash had apparently originated on No. 1, he had +probably been only too glad to jump to the conclusion. For himself, he +was personally determined to avoid any prejudice. + +He quickly discovered that the saw in question had been broken off +short. The settings were desperately twisted, and he knew that the +force capable of doing this could have only been supplied by the +gigantic log that had been trimming at the moment. Therefore the +indication must come from the saw itself. He searched carefully, and +found much of the broken blade. The upper portions were broken clean. +There was neither dinge nor bend in them. But the lower portions were +less clean. One piece particularly looked as though a sharp instrument +had been at work upon it. Then the memory of that faint rasping sound, +which had been the first thing to attract his attention before the +smash, came back to him. He grew hot with rising anger, and stuffed the +piece of saw-blade inside his shirt. + +"The cur!" he muttered. "Why? Why? Guess Dawson was right, after all. +The liquor _was_ in him. But why should he try to smash us?" + +He jumped down to the alleyway, intending to join his foreman, when a +fresh thought occurred to him. He looked over at the remains of the +office, then he glanced up and down at the broken rollers of No. 1. And +his lips shut tight. + +"I was in there," he said to himself, with his eyes on the wrecked +office, "and--he knew it." + +At that moment Dawson's excited voice interrupted him. "Say, boss, come +right along here. Guess I've got him." + +Dave joined him hurriedly. He found the foreman bending over a baulk of +timber, one that had evidently been hurled there in the smash. It was +lying across the sill of the opening over the boom, projecting a long +way out. Beneath it, just where it rested on the sill, but saved from +its full weight by the cant at which it was resting, a human figure was +stretched out face downward. + +Dawson was examining the man's face when Dave reached him, and started +to explain hurriedly. + +"I didn't rightly rec'nize him," he said. "Y'see he's got out of his +workin' kit. Might ha' bin goin' to the Meetin'. He was sure lightin' +out of here for keeps." + +To Dave the prostrate figure suggested all that the foreman said. The +man had calculated that smash--manufactured it. No more evidence was +needed. He had got himself ready for a bolt for safety, preferring the +boom as offering the best means of escape and the least chance of +detection. Once outside there would be no difficulty in getting away. +As Dawson said, his clothes suggested a hurried journey. They were the +thick frieze the lumber-jack wears in winter, and would be ample +protection for summer nights out in the open. Yes, it had been +carefully thought out. But the reason of this attack on himself puzzled +him, and he repeatedly asked himself "Why?" + +There could not be much question as to the man's condition. If he were +not yet dead, he must be very near it, for the small of his back was +directly under the angle of the beam and crushed against the sill. Dave +stood up from his examination. + +"Get one of the boys, quick," he said. "Start him out at once for Doc +Symons, over at High River. It's only fifteen miles. He'll be along +before morning anyhow. I'll carry--this down to the office. Don't say a +word around the mill. We've just had an--accident. See? And say, +Dawson, you're looking for a raise, and you're going to get it, that is +if this mill's in full work this day week. We're short of logs--well, +this'll serve as an excuse for saws being idle. 'It's an ill wind,' eh? +Meantime, get what saws you can going. Now cut along." + +The foreman's gratitude shone in his eyes. Had Dave given him the least +encouragement he would undoubtedly have made him what he considered an +elegant speech of thanks, but his employer turned from him at once and +set about releasing the imprisoned man. As soon as he had prized the +beam clear he gathered him up in his arms and bore him down the spiral +staircase to the floor below. Then he hurried on to his office with his +burden. + +And as he went he wondered. The sawyer might dislike Dawson. But he had +no cause for grudge against him, Dave. Then why had he waited until he +was alone in the tally room? The whole thing looked so like a direct +attack upon himself, rather than on the mills, that he was more than +ever puzzled. He went back over the time since he had employed Mansell, +and he could not remember a single incident that could serve him as an +excuse for such an attack. It might have been simply the madness of +drink, and yet it seemed too carefully planned. Yes, that was another +thing. Mansell had been on the drink for a week, "fighting-drunk," +Dawson had said. In the circumstances it was not reasonable for him to +plan the thing so carefully. Then a sudden thought occurred to him. +Were there others in it? Was Mansell only the tool? + +He was suddenly startled by a distinct sound from the injured man. It +was the sawyer's voice, harsh but inarticulate, and it brought with it +a suggestion that he might yet learn the truth. He increased his pace +and reached the office a few moments later. + +Here he prepared a pile of fur rugs upon the floor and laid the sawyer +upon it. Then he waited for some minutes, but, as nothing approaching +consciousness resulted, he finally left him, intending to return again +when the doctor arrived. There was so much to be done in the mill that +he could delay his return to it no longer. + +It was nearly four hours later when he went back to his office. He had +seen the work of salvage in order, and at last had a moment to spare to +attend to himself. He needed it. He was utterly weary, and his +lacerated chest was giving him exquisite pain. + +He found Mansell precisely as he left him. Apparently there had been no +movement of any sort. He bent over him and felt his heart. It was +beating faintly. He lifted the lids of his closed eyes, and the +eyeballs moved as the light fell upon them. + +He turned away and began to strip himself of his upper garments. There +was a gash in his chest fully six inches long, from which the blood was +steadily, though sluggishly, flowing. His clothes were saturated and +caked with it. He bathed the wound with the drinking water in the +bucket, and tearing his shirt into strips made himself a temporary +bandage. This done, he turned to his chair to sit down, when, glancing +over at the sick man, he was startled to find his eyes open and staring +in his direction. + +He at once went over to him. + +"Feeling better, Mansell?" he inquired. + +The man gave no sign of recognition. His eyes simply stared at him. For +a moment he thought he was dead, but a faint though steady breathing +reassured him. Suddenly an idea occurred to him, and he went to a +cupboard and produced a bottle of brandy. Pouring some out into a tin +cup, with some difficulty he persuaded it into Mansell's mouth. Then he +waited. The staring eyes began to move, and there was a decided +fluttering of the eyelids. A moment later the lips moved, and an +indistinct but definite sound came from them. + +"How are you now?" Dave asked. + +There was another long pause, during which the man's eyes closed again. +Then they reopened, and he deliberately turned his head away. + +"You--didn't--get--hurt?" he asked, in faint, spasmodic gasps. + +"No." Dave leaned over him. "Have some more brandy?" + +The man turned his head back again. He didn't answer, but the look in +his eyes was sufficient. This time Dave poured out more, and there was +no difficulty in administering it. + +"Well?" he suggested, as the color slowly crept over the man's face. + +"Good--goo----" + +The sound died away, and the eyes closed again. But only to reopen +quickly. + +"He--said--you'd--get--killed," he gasped. + +"He--who?" + +"Jim." + +The sawyer's eyelids drooped again. Without a moment's hesitation Dave +plied him with more of the spirit. + +"You mean Truscott?" he asked sharply. He was startled, but he gave no +sign. He realized that at any time the man might refuse to say more. +Then he added: "He's got it in for me." + +The sick man remained perfectly still for some seconds. His brain +seemed to move slowly. When he did speak, his voice had grown fainter. + +"Yes." + +Dave's face was hard and cold as he looked down at him. He was just +about to formulate another question, when the door opened and Dr. +Symons hurried in. He was a brisk man, and took the situation in at a +glance. + +"A smash?" he inquired. Then, his eyes on the bottle at Dave's side: +"What's that--brandy?" + +"Brandy." The lumberman passed it across to him. "Yes, a smash-up. This +poor chap's badly damaged, I'm afraid. Found him with a heavy beam +lying across the small of his back. You were the nearest doctor, so I +sent for you. Eh? oh, yes," as the doctor pointed at the blood on his +clothes. "When you've finished with him you can put a stitch in +me--some of the boys too. I'll leave you to it, Doc, they'll need me in +the mill. I gave him brandy, and it roused him to consciousness." + +"Right. You might get back in half an hour." + +Dr. Symons moved over to the sick man, and Dave put on his coat and +left the office. + +When he returned the doctor met him with a grave face. + +"What's the night like?" he asked. "I've got to ride back." + +He went to the door, and Dave followed him out. + +"His back is broken," he said, when they were out of ear-shot. "It's +just a question of hours." + +"How many?" + +"Can't say with any certainty. It's badly smashed, and no doubt other +things besides. Paralysis of the----" + +"Has he said anything? Has he shown any inclination to talk?" + +"No. That is, he looked around the room a good deal as though looking +for some one. Maybe you." + +"Can nothing be done for the poor chap?" + +"Nothing. Better get him a parson. I'll come over to-morrow to see him, +if he's alive. Anyway I'll be needed to sign a certificate. I must get +back to home by daylight. I've got fever patients. Now just come +inside, and I'll fix you up. Then I'll go and see to the boys. After +that, home." + +"You're sure nothing----" + +"Plumb sure! Sure as I am you're going to have a mighty bad chest if +you don't come inside and let me stop that oozing blood I see coming +through your clothes." + +Without further protest Dave followed the doctor into the office, and +submitted to the operation. + +"That's a rotten bad place," he assured him, in his brisk way. "You'll +have to lie up. You ought to be dead beat from loss of blood. Gad, man, +you must go home, or I won't answer----" + +But Dave broke in testily. + +"Right ho, Doc, you go and see to the boys. Send your bill in to me for +the lot." + +As soon as he had gone, Dave sat thoughtfully gazing at the doomed +sawyer. Presently he glanced round at the brandy bottle. The doctor had +positively said the poor fellow was doomed. He rose from his seat and +poured out a stiff drink. Then he knelt down, and supporting the man's +head, held it to his lips. He drank it eagerly. Dave knew it had been +his one pleasure in life. Then he went back to his chair. + +"Feeling comfortable?" he inquired gently. + +"Yes, boss," came the man's answer promptly. Then, "Wot did the Doc +say?" + +"Guess you're handing in your checks," Dave replied, after a moment's +deliberation. + +The sawyer's eyes were on the brandy bottle. + +"How long?" he asked presently. + +"Maybe hours. He couldn't say." + +"'E's wrong, boss. 'Tain't hours. I'm mighty cold, an'--it's creepin' +up quick." + +Dave looked at his watch. It was already past two o'clock. + +"He said he'd come and see you in the morning." + +"I'll be stiff by then," the dying man persisted, with his eyes still +on the bottle. "Say, boss," he went on, "that stuff's a heap +warming--an' I'm cold." + +Dave poured him out more brandy. Then he took off his own coat and laid +it over the man's legs. His fur coat and another fur robe were in the +cupboard, and these he added. And the man's thanks came awkwardly. + +"I can't send for a parson," Dave said regretfully, after a few +moments' silence. "I'd like to, but Parson Tom's away up in the hills. +It's only right----" + +"He's gone up to the hills?" the sick man interrupted him, as though +struck by a sudden thought. + +"Yes. It's fever." + +Mansell lay staring straight up at the roof. And as the other watched +him he felt that some sort of struggle was going on in his slowly +moving mind. Twice his lips moved as though about to speak, but for a +long time no sound came from them. The lumberman felt extreme pity for +him. He had forgotten that this man had so nearly ruined him, so nearly +caused his death. He only saw before him a dimly flickering life, a +life every moment threatening to die out. He knew how warped had been +that life, how worthless from a purely human point of view, but he felt +that it was as precious in the sight of One as that of the veriest +saint. He racked his thoughts for some way to comfort those last dread +moments. + +Presently the dying man's head turned slightly toward him. + +"I'm goin', boss," he said with a gasp. "It's gettin' up--the cold." + +"Will you have--brandy?" + +The lighting of the man's eyes made a verbal answer unnecessary. Dave +gave him nearly half a tumbler, and his ebbing life flickered up again +like a dying candle flame. + +"The Doc said you wus hurt bad, boss. I heard him. I'm sorry--real +miser'ble sorry--now." + +"Now?" + +"Yep--y' see I'm--goin'." + +"Ah." + +"I'm kind o' glad ther' ain't no passon around. Guess ther's a heap I +wouldn't 'a' said to him." + +The dying man's eyes closed for a moment. Dave didn't want to break in +on his train of thought, so he kept silent. + +"Y' see," Mansell went on again almost at once, "he kind o' drove me to +it. That an' the drink. He give me the drink too. Jim's cur'us mean by +you." + +"But Jim's gone east days ago." + +"No, he ain't. He's lyin' low. He ain't east now." + +"You're sure?" Dave's astonishment crept into his tone. + +Mansell made a movement which implied his certainty. + +"He was to give me a heap o' money. The money you give fer his mill. He +wants you smashed. He wants the mill smashed. An' I did it. Say, I bust +that saw o' mine, an' she was a beaut'," he added, with pride and +regret. "I got a rasp on to it. But it's all come back on me. Guess +I'll be goin' to hell fer that job--that an' others. Say, boss----" + +He broke off, looking at the brandy bottle. Dave made no pretense at +demur. The man was rapidly dying, and he felt that the spirit gave him +a certain ease of mind. The ethics of his action did not trouble him. +If he could give a dying man comfort, he would. + +"There's no hell for those who are real sorry," he said, when the +fellow had finished his drink. "The good God is so thankful for a man's +real sorrow for doing wrong that He forgives him right out. He forgives +a sight easier than men do. You've nothing to worry over, lad. You're +sorry--that's the real thing." + +"Sure, boss?" + +"Dead sure." + +"Say, boss, I'd 'a' hate to done you up. But ther' was the money, +an'--I wanted it bad." + +"Sure you did. You see we all want a heap the good God don't reckon +good for us----" + +The man's eyes suddenly closed while Dave was speaking. Then they +opened again, and this time they were staring wildly. + +"I'm--goin'," he gasped. + +Dave was on his knees in a second, supporting his head. He poured some +brandy into the gasping mouth, and for a brief moment the man rallied. +Then his breathing suddenly became violent. + +"I'm--done!" he gasped in a final effort, and a moment later the +supporting hand felt the lead-like weight of the lolling head. The man +was dead. + +The lumberman reverently laid the head back upon the rugs, and for some +minutes remained where he was kneeling. His rough, plain face was +buried in his hands. Then he rose to his feet and stood looking down +upon the lifeless form. A great pity welled up in his heart. Poor +Mansell was beyond the reach of a hard fate, beyond the reach of +earthly temptation and the hard knocks of men. And he felt it were +better so. He covered the body carefully over with the fur robe, and +sat down at his desk. + +He sat there for some minutes listening to the sounds of the workers at +the mills. He was weary--so weary. But at last he could resist the call +no longer, and he went out to join in the labor that was his very life. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +FACE TO FACE + + +For the few remaining hours of night Dave took no leisure. He pressed +forward the work of repairing the damage, with a zest that set Joel +Dawson herding his men on to almost superhuman feats. There was no rest +taken, no rest asked. And it said something for the devotion of these +lumber-jacks to their employer that no "grouse" or murmur was heard. + +The rest which the doctor had ordered Dave to take did not come until +long after his breakfast hour, and then only it came through sheer +physical inability to return to his work. His breakfast was brought to +the office, and he made a weak pretense of eating. Then, as he rose +from his seat, for the first time in his life he nearly fainted. He +saved himself, however, by promptly sitting down again, and in a few +seconds his head fell forward on his chest and he was sound asleep, +lost in the dreamless slumber of exhaustion. + +Two hours later Dawson put his head in through the office doorway. He +saw the sleeping man and retreated at once. He understood. For himself, +he had not yet come to the end of his tether. Besides, Simon Odd would +relieve him presently. Then, too, there were others upon whom he could +depend for help. + +It was noon when a quiet tap came at the office door. Dave's old mother +peeped in. She had heard of the smash and was fearful for her boy. +Seeing him asleep she tiptoed across the room to him. She had met the +postmaster on her way, and brought the mail with her. Now she deposited +it on his desk and stood looking down at the great recumbent figure +with eyes of the deepest love and anxiety. All signs of his lacerated +chest were concealed and she was spared what would have been to her a +heartbreaking sight. Her gentle heart only took in the unutterably +weary attitude of the sleeper. That was sufficient to set her shaking +her gray head and sighing heavily. The work, she told herself sadly, +was killing him. Nor did she know at the moment how near to the truth +she was. + +For a moment she bent over him, and her aged lips lightly touched his +mass of wiry hair. To the world he might be unsightly, he might be +ungainly, he might be--well, all he believed himself to be; to her he +possessed every beauty, every virtue a doting mother can bestow upon +her offspring. + +She passed out of the office as silently as she came, and the man's +stertorous breathing rose and fell steadily, the only sound in that +room of death. + +Two hours later he awoke with a start. A serving girl blundered into +the room with a basket of food. His mother had sent over his dinner. + +The girl's apologies were profuse. + +"I jest didn't know, Mr. Dave. I'm sure sorry. Your ma sent me over +with these things, an' she said as I was to set 'em right out for you. +Y' see she didn't just say you was sleepin', she----" + +"All right, Maggie," Dave said kindly. Then he looked at his watch, and +to his horror found it was two o'clock. He had slept the entire morning +through. + +He swiftly rose from his seat and stretched himself. He was stiff and +sore, and that stretch reminded him painfully of his wounded chest. +Then his eyes fell upon the ominous pile of furs in the corner. Ah, +there was that to see to. + +He watched the girl set out his dinner and remembered he was hungry. +And the moment she left the room he fell upon the food with avidity. +Yes, he felt better--much better, and he was glad. He could return to +his work, and see that everything possible was done, and then there +was--that other matter. + +He had just finished his food when Dr. Symons came in with an apology +on his lips. + +"A bit late," he exclaimed. "Sorry I couldn't make it before. Ah," his +quick eyes fell upon the pile of furs. "Dead?" he inquired. + +Dave nodded. + +"Sure," the other rattled on. "Had to be. Knew it. Well, there are more +good sawyers to be had. Let's look at your chest." + +Dave submitted, and then the doctor, at the lumberman's request, went +off with a rush to see about the arrangements for the sawyer's burial. + +He had hardly left the place, and Dave was just thinking of going +across to the mill again, when there was another call. He was standing +at the window. He wanted to return at once to his work, but for some, +to him, unaccountable reason he was a prey to a curious reluctance; it +was a form of inertia he had never before experienced, and it half +annoyed him, yet was irresistibly fascinating. He stood there more or +less dreamily, watching the buzzing flies as they hurled themselves +against the dirty glass panes. He idly tried to count them. He was not +in the least interested, but at that moment, as a result of his wound +and his weariness, his brain felt that it needed the rest of such +trivialities. + +It was while occupied in this way that he saw Jim Truscott approaching, +and the sight startled him into a mental activity that just then his +best interests in the mills failed to stir him to. + +Then Mansell had told the truth. Jim had not gone east as he had +assured Tom Chepstow it was his intention to do. Why was he coming to +him now? A grim thought passed through his mind. Was it the fascination +which the scene of a crime always has for the criminal? He sat down at +his desk, and, when his visitor's knock came, appeared to be busy with +his mail. + +Truscott came in. Dave did not look up, but the tail of his eye warned +him of a peculiarly furtive manner in his visitor. + +"Half a minute," he said, in a preoccupied tone. "Just sit down." + +The other silently obeyed, while Dave tore open a telegram at +haphazard, and immediately became really absorbed in its contents. + +It was a wire from his agent in Winnipeg, and announced that the +railroad strike had been settled, and the news would be public property +in twenty-four hours. It further told him that he hoped in future he +would have no further hitch to report in the transportation of the +Malkern timber, and that now he could cope with practically any +quantity Dave might ship down. The news was very satisfactory, except +for the reminder it gave him of the disquieting knowledge that his +mills were temporarily wrecked, and he could not produce the quantities +the agent hoped to ship. At least he could not produce them for some +days, and--yes, there was that shortage from the hills to cope with, +too. + +This brought him to the recollection that the author of half his +trouble was in the office, and awaiting his pleasure. He turned at once +to his visitor, and surveyed him closely from head to foot. + +Truscott was sitting with his back to the pile of rugs concealing the +dead sawyer. Presently their eyes met, and in the space of that glance +the lumberman's thought flowed swiftly. Nor, when he spoke, did his +tone suggest either anger or resentment, merely a cool inquiry. + +"You--changed your mind?" he said. + +"What about?" Truscott was on the defensive at once. + +"You didn't go east, then?" + +The other's gaze shifted at once, and his manner suggested annoyance +with himself for his display. + +"Oh, yes. I went as far as Winnipeg. Guess I got hung up by the strike, +so--so I came back again. Who told you?" + +"Tom Chepstow." + +Truscott nodded. It was some moments before either spoke again. There +was an awkwardness between them which seemed to increase every second. +Truscott was thinking of their last meeting, and--something else. Dave +was estimating the purpose of this visit. He understood that the man +had a purpose, and probably a very definite one. + +Suddenly the lumberman rose from his seat as though about to terminate +the interview, and his movement promptly had the effect he desired. +Truscott detained him at once. + +"You had a bad smash, last night. That's why I came over." + +Dave smiled. It was just the glimmer of a smile, and frigid as a polar +sunbeam. As he made no answer, the other was forced to go on. + +"I'm sorry, Dave," he continued, with a wonderful display of sincerity. +Then he hesitated, but finally plunged into a labored apology. "I dare +say Parson Tom has told you something of what I said to him the night +he went away. He went up to clear out the fever for you, didn't he? +He's a good chap. I hoped he'd tell you anyway. I just--hadn't the face +to come to you myself after what had happened between us. Look here, +Dave, you've treated me 'white' since then--I mean about that mill of +mine. You see--well, I can't just forget old days and old friendships. +They're on my conscience bad. I want to straighten up. I want to tell +you how sorry I am for what I've done and said in the past. You'd have +done right if you'd broken my neck for me. I went east as I said, and +all these things hung on my conscience like--like cobwebs, and I'm +determined to clear 'em away. Dave, I want to shake hands before I go +for good. I want you to try and forget. The strike's over now, and I'm +going away to-day. I----" + +He broke off. It seemed as though he had suddenly realized the +frigidity of Dave's silence and the hollow ring of his own professions. +It is doubtful if he were shamed into silence. It was simply that there +was no encouragement to go on, and, in spite of his effrontery, he was +left confused. + +"You're going to-day?" Dave's calmness gave no indication of his +feelings. Nor did he offer to shake hands. + +Truscott nodded. Then-- + +"The smash--was it a very bad one?" + +"Pretty bad." + +"It--it won't interfere with your work--I hope?" + +"Some." + +Dave's eyes were fixed steadily upon his visitor, who let his gaze +wander. There was something painfully disconcerting in the lumberman's +cold regard, and in the brevity of his replies. + +"Doc Symons told me about it," the other went on presently. "He was +fetched here in the night. He said you were hurt. But you seem all +right." + +Dave made it very hard for him. There were thoughts in the back of his +head, questions that must be answered. For an instant a doubt swept +over him, and his restless eyes came to a standstill on the rugged face +of the master of the mills. But he saw nothing there to reassure him, +or to give him cause for alarm. It was the same as he had always known +it, only perhaps the honest gray eyes lacked their kindly twinkle. + +"Yes, I'm all right. Doc talks a heap." + +"Did he lie?" + +Dave shrugged. + +"It depends what he calls hurt. Some of the boys were hurt." + +"Ah. He didn't mention them." + +Again the conversation languished. + +"I didn't hear how the smash happened," Truscott went on presently. + +Dave's eyes suddenly became steely. + +"It was Mansell's saw. Something broke. Then we got afire. I just got +out--a miracle. I was in the tally room." + +The lumberman's brevity had in it the clip of snapping teeth. If +Truscott noticed it, it suited him to ignore it. He went on quickly. +His interest was rising and sweeping him on. + +"On Mansell's saw!" he said. "When I heard you'd got him working I +wondered. He's bad for drink. Was he drunk?" + +Dave's frigidity was no less for the smile that accompanied his next +words. + +"Maybe he'd been drinking." + +But Truscott was not listening. He was thinking ahead, and his next +question came with almost painful sharpness. + +"Did he get--smashed?" + +"A bit." + +"Ah. Was he able to account for the--accident?" + +The man was leaning forward in his anxiety, and his question was +literally hurled at the other. There was a look, too, in his bleared +eyes which was a mixture of devilishness and fear. All these things +Dave saw. But he displayed no feeling of any sort. + +"Accidents don't need explaining," he said slowly. "But I didn't say +this was an accident. Here, get your eye on that." + +He drew a piece of saw-blade from his pocket. It was the piece he had +picked up in the mill. + +"Guess it's the bit where it's 'collared' by the driving arm." + +Truscott examined the steel closely. + +"Well?" + +"It's--just smashed?" Truscott replied questioningly. + +Dave shook his head. + +"You can see where it's been filed." + +Truscott reexamined it and nodded. + +"I see now. God!" + +The exclamation was involuntary. It came at the sudden realization of +how well his work had been carried out, and what that work meant. Dave, +watching, grasped something of its meaning. There was that within him +which guided him surely in the mental workings of his fellow man. He +was looking into the very heart of this man who had so desperately +tried to injure him. And what he saw, though he was angered, stirred +him to a strange pity. + +"It's pretty mean when you think of it," he said slowly. "Makes you +think some, doesn't it? Makes you wonder what folks are made of. If you +hated, could you have done it? Could you have deliberately set out to +ruin a fellow--to take his life? The man that did this thing figured on +just that." + +"Did he say so?" + +Truscott's face had paled, and a haunting fear looked out of his eyes. +It was the thought of discovery that troubled him. + +Dave ignored the interruption, and went on with his half-stern, +half-pitying regard fixed upon the other. + +"Had things gone right with him, and had the fire got a fair hold, +nothing could have saved us." He shook his head. "That's a mean hate +for a man I've never harmed. For a man I've always helped. You couldn't +hate like that, Truscott? You couldn't turn on the man that had so +helped you? It's a mean spirit; so mean that I can't hate him for it. +I'm sorry--that's all." + +"He must be a devil." + +The fear had gone out of Truscott's eyes. All his cool assurance had +returned. Dave was blaming the sawyer, and he was satisfied. + +The lumberman shrugged his great shoulders. + +"Maybe he is. I don't know. Maybe he's only a poor weak foolish fellow +whose wits are all mussed up with brandy, and so he just doesn't know +what he's doing." + +"The man who filed that steel knew what he was doing," cried Truscott. + +"Don't blame him," replied Dave--his deep voice full and resonant like +an organ note. + +But Truscott had achieved his object, and he felt like expanding. Dave +knew nothing. Suspected nothing. Mansell had played the game for +him--or perhaps---- + +"I tell you it was a diabolical piece of villainy on the part of a cur +who----" + +"Don't raise your voice, lad," said Dave, with a sudden solemnity that +promptly silenced the other. "Reach round behind you and lift that fur +robe." + +He had risen from his seat and stood pointing one knotty finger at the +corner where the dead man was lying. His great figure was full of +dignity, his manner had a command in it that was irresistible to the +weaker man. + +Truscott turned, not knowing what to expect. For a second a shudder +passed over him. It spent itself as he beheld nothing but the pile of +furs. But he made no attempt to reach the robe until Dave's voice, +sternly commanding, urged him again. + +"Lift it," he cried. + +And the other obeyed even against his will. He reached out, while a +great unaccountable fear took hold of him and shook him. His hand +touched the robe. He paused. Then his fingers closed upon its furry +edge. He lifted it, and lifting it, beheld the face of the dead sawyer. +Strangely enough, the glazed eyes were open, and the head was turned, +so that they looked straight into the eyes of the living. + +The hand that held the robe shook. The nerveless fingers relinquished +their hold, and it fell back to its place and shut out the sight. But +it was some moments before the man recovered himself. When he did so he +rose from his chair and moved as far from the dead man as possible. +This brought him near the door, and Dave followed him up. + +"He's dead!" + +Truscott whispered the words half unconsciously, and the tone of his +voice was almost unrecognizable. It sounded like inquiry, yet he had no +need to ask the question. + +"Yes, he's dead--poor fellow," said Dave solemnly. + +Then, after a long pause, the other dragged his courage together. He +looked up into the face above him. + +"Did--did he say why he did it--or was he----" + +It was a stumbling question, which Dave did not let him complete. + +"Yes, he told me all--the whole story of it. That's the door, lad. You +won't need to shake hands--now." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +IN THE MOUNTAINS + + +It was Sunday evening. Inside a capacious "dugout" a small group of two +men and a girl sat round the stove which had just been lit. + +In the mountains, even though the heat of August was still at its +height, sundown was the signal for the lighting of fires. Dave's lumber +camps were high up in the hills, tapping, as they did, the upper forest +belts, where grew the vast primordial timbers. In the extreme heat of +summer the air was bracing, crisp, and suggested the process of +breathing diamonds, but with the setting of the sun a cold shiver from +the ancient glaciers above whistled down through the trees and bit into +the bones. + +The daylight still lingered outside, and the cotton-covered windows of +the dugout let in just sufficient of it to leave the remoter corners of +the hut bathed in rapidly growing shadow. There was a good deal of +comfort in the room, though no luxury. The mud cemented walls were +whitewashed and adorned with illustrations from the _Police Gazette_, +and other kindred papers. For the most part the furniture was of "home" +manufacture. The chairs, and they were all armchairs of sorts, were +mere frames with seats of strung rawhide. The table was of the roughest +but most solid make, strong enough to be used as a chopping-block, and +large enough for an extra bed to be made down upon it. There was a +large cupboard serving the dual purpose of larder and pantry, and, in +addition to the square cook-stove, the room was heated by a giant wood +stove. The only really orthodox piece of furniture was the small +writing-desk. + +For a dugout it was capacious, and, unlike the usual dugout, it +possessed three inner rooms backing into the hill against which it was +built. One of these was a storeroom for dynamite and other camp +equipment, one was a bedroom, and the other was an armory. The +necessity for the latter might be questioned, but Bob Mason, the camp +"boss," the sole authority over a great number of lumber-jacks, more +than a hundred and fifty miles from the faintest semblance of +civilization, was content that it should be there. + +The three faces were serious enough as they gazed down in silence at +the glowing, red-hot patch in the iron roof of the stove, and watched +it spread, wider and wider, under the forced draught of the open +damper. They had been silent for some moments, and before that one of +them had practically monopolized the talk. It was Betty who had done +most of the talking. Bronzed with the mountain air and sun, her cheeks +flushed with interest and excitement, her sweet brown eyes aglow, she +had finished recounting to her uncle and Bob Mason a significant +incident that had occurred to her that afternoon on her way from the +sick camp to the dugout. + +Walking through a patch of forest which cut the sick quarters off from +the main, No. 1, camp, she had encountered two lumber-jacks, whom she +had no recollection of having seen before. + +"They weren't like lumber-jacks," she explained, "except for their +clothes. You can't mistake a lumber-jack's manner and speech, +particularly when he is talking to a girl. He's so self-conscious +and--and shy. Well, these men were neither. Their speech was the same +as ours might be, and their faces, well, they were good-looking +fellows, and might never have been out of a city. I never saw anybody +look so out of place, as they did, in their clothes. There was no +beating about the bush with them. They simply greeted me politely, +asked me if I was Miss Somers, and, when I told them I was, calmly +warned me to leave the hills without delay--not later than to-morrow +night. I asked them for an explanation, but they only laughed, not +rudely, and repeated their warning, adding that you, uncle, had better +go too, or they would not be answerable for the consequences. I +reminded them of the sick folk, but they only laughed at that too. One +of them cynically reminded me they were all 'jacks' and were of no sort +of consequence whatever, in fact, if a few of them happened to die off +no one would care. He made me angry, and I told them we should +certainly care. He promptly retorted, very sharply, that they had not +come there to hold any sort of debate on the matter, but to give me +warning. He said that his reason in doing so was simply that I was a +girl, and that you, uncle, were a much-respected parson, and they had +no desire that any harm should come to either of us. That was all. +After that they turned away and went off into the forest, taking an +opposite direction to the camp." + +Mason was the first to break the silence that followed the girl's story. + +"It's serious," he said, speaking with his chin in his hands and his +elbows resting on his parted knees. + +"The warning?" inquired Chepstow, with a quick glance at the other's +thoughtful face. + +Mason nodded. + +"I've been watching this thing for weeks past," he said, "and the worst +of it is I can't make up my mind as to the meaning of it. There's +something afoot, but---- Do you know I've sent six letters down the +river to Dave, and none of them have been answered? My monthly budget +of orders is a week overdue. That's not like Dave. How long have you +been up here? Seven weeks, ain't it? I've only had three letters from +Dave in that time." + +The foreman flung himself back in his chair with a look of perplexity +on his broad, open face. + +"What can be afoot?" asked Chepstow, after a pause. "The men are +working well." + +"They're working as well as 'scabs' generally do," Mason complained. +"And thirty per cent, are 'scabs,' now. They're all slackers. They're +none of them lumber-jacks. They haven't the spirit of a 'jack.' I have +to drive 'em from morning till night. Oh, by the way, parson, that +reminds me, I've got a note for you. It's from the sutler. I know +what's in it, that is, I can guess." He drew it from his pocket, handed +it across to him. "It's to tell you you can't have the store for +service to-night. The boys want it. They're going to have a singsong +there, or something of the sort." + +The churchman's eyes lit. + +"But he promised me. I've made arrangements. The place is fixed up for +it. They can have it afterward, but----" + +"Hadn't you better read the note, uncle?" Betty said gently. She +detected the rising storm in his vehemence. + +He turned at once to the note. It was short, and its tone, though +apologetic, was decided beyond all question. + + +"You can't have the store to-night. I'm sorry, but the boys insist on +having it themselves. You will understand I am quite powerless when you +remember they are my customers." + + +Tom Chepstow read the message from Jules Lieberstein twice over. Then +he passed it across to Mason. Only the brightness of his eyes told of +his feelings. He was annoyed, and his fighting spirit was stirring. + +"Well, what are you going to do?" Mason inquired, as he passed the +paper on to Betty in response to her silent request. + +"Do? Do?" Chepstow cried, his keen eyes shining angrily. "Why, I'll +hold service there, of course. Jules can't give a thing, and, at the +last minute, take it away like that. I've had the room prepared and +everything. I shall go and see him. I----" + +"The trouble--whatever it is--is in that note, too," Betty interrupted, +returning him the paper with the deliberate intention of checking his +outburst. + +Mason gave her a quick glance of approval. Though he did not approve of +women in a lumber camp, Betty's quiet capacity, her gentle womanliness, +with her great strength of character and keenness of perception +underlying it, pleased him immensely. He admired her, and curiously +enough frequently found himself discussing affairs of the camp with her +as though she were there for the purpose of sharing the burden of his +responsibilities. In the ordinary course this would not have happened, +but she had come at a moment when his difficulties were many and +trying. And at such a time her ready understanding had become decided +moral support which was none the less welcome for the fact that he +failed to realize it. + +"You're right," he nodded. "There's something doing. What's that?" + +All three glanced at the door. And there was a look of uneasiness in +each which they could not have explained. Mason hurried across the room +with Chepstow at his heels. + +Outside, night was closing in rapidly. A gray, misty twilight held the +mountain world in a gloomy shroud. The vast hills, and the dark +woodland belts, loomed hazily through the mist. But the deathly +stillness was broken by the rattle of wheels and the beating of hoofs +upon the hard trail. The vehicle, whatever it was, had passed the +dugout, and the sounds of it were already dying away in the direction +of the distant camp. + +"There's a fog coming down," observed Mason, as they returned to the +stove. + +"That was a buckboard," remarked the parson. + +"And it was traveling fast and light," added Betty. + +And each remark indicated the point of view of the speaker. + +Mason thought less of the vehicle than he did of the fog. Any +uneasiness he felt was for his work rather than the trouble he felt to +be brewing. A heavy fog was always a deterrent, and, at this time of +year, fogs were not unfrequent in the hills. Chepstow was bent on the +identity of the arrival, while Betty sought the object of it. + +Mason did not return to his seat. He stood by the stove for a moment +thinking. Then he moved across to his pea-jacket hanging on the wall +and put it on, at the same time slipping a revolver into his pocket. +Then he pulled a cloth cap well down over his eyes. + +"I'll get a good look around the camp," he said quietly. + +"Going to investigate?" Chepstow inquired. + +"Yes. There have been too many arrivals lately--one way and another. +I'm sick of 'em." + +Betty looked up into his face with round smiling eyes. + +"You need a revolver--to make investigations?" she asked lightly. + +The lumberman looked her squarely in the eyes for a moment, and there +he read something of the thought which had prompted her question. He +smiled back at her as he replied. + +"It's a handy thing to have about you when dealing with the scum of the +earth. Lumbermen on this continent are not the beau ideal of +gentlefolk, but when you are dealing with the class of loafer such as I +have been forced to engage lately, well, the real lumber-jack becomes +an angel of gentleness by contrast. A gun doesn't take up much room in +your pocket, and it gives an added feeling of security. You see, if +there's any sort of trouble brewing the man in authority is not likely +to have a healthy time. By the way, parson, I'd suggest you give up +this service to-night. Of course it's up to you, I don't want to +interfere. You see, if the boys want that store, and you've got +it--why----" + +He broke off with a suggestive shake of the head. Betty watched her +uncle's face. + +She saw him suddenly bend down and fling the damper wider open, and in +response the stove roared fiercely. He sat with his keen eyes fixed on +the glowing aperture, watching the rapidly brightening light that shone +through. The suggestion of fiery rage suited his mood at the moment. + +But his anger was not of long duration. His was an impetuous +disposition generally controlled in the end by a kindly, Christian +spirit, and, a few moments later, when he spoke, there was the mildness +of resignation in his words. + +"Maybe you're right, Mason," he said calmly. "You understand these boys +up here better than I do. Besides, I don't want to cause you any +unnecessary trouble, and I see by your manner you're expecting +something serious." Then he added regretfully: "But I should have liked +to hold that service. And I would have done it, in spite of our Hebrew +friend's sordid excuse. However---- By the way, can I be of any service +to you?" He pointed at the lumberman's bulging pocket. "If it's +necessary to carry that, two are always better than one." + +Betty sighed contentedly. She was glad that her uncle had been advised +to give up the service. Her woman's quick wit had taken alarm for him, +and--well, she regarded her simple-minded uncle as her care, she felt +she was responsible to her aunt for him. It was the strong maternal +instinct in her which made her yearn to protect and care for those whom +she loved. Now she waited anxiously for the foreman's reply. To her +astonishment it came with an alacrity and ready acceptance which +further stirred her alarm. + +"Thanks," he said. "As you say two---- Here, slip this other gun into +your coat pocket." And he reached the fellow revolver to his own from +its holster upon the wall. "Now let's get on." + +He moved toward the door. Chepstow was in the act of following when +Betty's voice stopped him. + +"What time will you get back?" she inquired. "How shall I know that----" + +She broke off. Her brown eyes were fixed questioningly upon the +lumberman's face. + +"We'll be around in an hour," said Mason confidently "Meanwhile, Miss +Betty, after we're gone, just set those bars across the door. And don't +let anybody in till you hear either mine or your uncle's voice." + +The girl understood him, she always understood without asking a lot of +questions. She was outwardly quite calm, without the faintest trace of +the alarm she really felt. She had no fear for herself. At that moment +she was thinking of her uncle. + +After the men had gone she closed the heavy log door but did not bar it +as she had been advised; then, returning to the stove, she sat down and +took up some sewing, prepared to await their return with absolute faith +and confidence in the lumberman's assurance. + +She stitched on in the silence, and soon her thoughts drifted back to +the man who had so strangely become the lodestone of her life. The +trouble suggested by Mason must be his trouble. She wondered what could +possibly happen on top of the fever, which she and her uncle had been +fighting for the past weeks, that could further jeopardize his +contract. She could see only one thing, and her quickness of perception +in all matters relating to the world she knew drove her straight to the +reality. She knew it was a general strike Mason feared. She knew it by +the warning she had received, by the foreman's manner when he prepared +to leave the hut. + +She was troubled. In imagination she saw the great edifice Dave had so +ardently labored upon toppling about his ears. In her picture she saw +him great, calm, resolute, standing amidst the wreck, with eyes looking +out straight ahead full of that great fighting strength which was his, +his heart sore and bruised but his lips silent, his great courage and +purpose groping for the shattered foundations that the rebuilding might +not be delayed an instant. It was her delight and pride to think of him +thus, whilst, with every heart-beat, a nervous dread for him shook her +whole body. She tried to think wherein she could help this man who was +more to her than her own life. She bitterly hated her own womanhood as +she thought of those two men bearing arms at that instant in his +interests. Why could not she? But she knew that privilege was denied +her. She threw her sewing aside as though the effeminacy of it sickened +her, and rose from her seat and paced the room. "Oh, Dave, Dave, why +can't I help you?" It was the cry that rang through her troubled brain +with every moment that the little metal clock on the desk ticked away, +while she waited for the men-folk's return. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE CHURCH MILITANT + + +Outside the hut Mason led the way. The mist had deepened into a white +fog which seemed to deaden all sound, so quiet was everything, so +silent the grim woods all around. It had settled so heavily that it was +almost impossible to see anything beyond the edge of the trail. There +was just a hazy shadow, like a sudden depth of mist, to mark the +woodland borders; beyond this all was gray and desolate. + +The dugout was built at the trail-side, a trail which had originally +been made for travoying logs, but had now become the main trail linking +up the camp with the eastern world. The camp itself--No. 1, the main +camp--was further in the woods to the west, a distance of nearly a mile +and a half by trail, but not more than half a mile through the woods. +It was this short cut the two men took now. They talked as they went, +but in hushed tones. It was as though the gray of the fog, and the +knowledge of their mission weighed heavily, inspiring them with a +profound feeling of caution. + +"You've not had any real trouble before?" Chepstow asked. "I mean +trouble such as would serve you with a key to what is going on now?" + +"Oh, we've had occasional 'rackets,'" said Mason easily. "But nothing +serious--nothing to guide us in this. No, we've got to find this out. +You see there's no earthly reason for trouble that I know. The boys are +paid jolly well, a sight better than I would pay them if this was my +outfit. The hours are exacting, I admit. This huge contract has caused +that. It's affected us in most every way, but Dave is no niggard, and +the inducement has been made more than proportionate, so there's no +kick coming on that head. Where before axemen's work was merely a full +eight hours, it now takes 'em something like nine and ten, and work +like the devil to get through even in that time. But their wages are +simply out of sight. Do you know, there are men in this camp drawing +from four to five dollars a day clear of food and shelter? Why, the +income of some of them is positively princely." + +"What is it you think is on foot?" Chepstow demanded, as he buttoned +his coat close about his neck to keep out the saturating mist. Then, as +his companion didn't answer at once, he added half to himself, "It's no +wonder there's fever with these mists around." + +Bob Mason paid no heed to the last remark. The fever had lost interest +for him in the storm-clouds he now saw ahead. Hitherto he had not put +his thoughts on the matter into concrete form. He had not given actual +expression to his fears. There had been so little to guide him. +Besides, he had had no sound reason to fear anything, that is no +definite reason. It was his work to feel and understand the pulse of +the men under him, and it largely depended on the accuracy of his +reading whether or not the work under his charge ran smoothly. He had +felt for some time that something was wrong, and Betty's story had +confirmed his feeling. He was some moments before he answered, but when +he did it was with calm decision. + +"Organized strike," he said at last. + +Tom Chepstow was startled. The words "organized strike" had an +unpleasant sound. He suddenly realized the isolation of these hill +camps, the lawless nature of the lumber-jacks. He felt that a strike up +here in the mountains would be a very different thing from a strike in +the heart of civilization, and that was bad enough. The fact that the +tone of Mason's pronouncement had suggested no alarm made him curious +to hear his views upon the position. + +"The reason?" he demanded. + +The lumberman shrugged. + +"Haven't a notion." + +They tramped on in silence for some time, the sound of their footsteps +muffled in the fog. The gray was deepening, and, with oncoming night, +their surroundings were rapidly becoming more and more obscure. +Presently the path opened out into the wide clearing occupied by No. 1 +camp. Here shadowy lights were visible in the fog, but beyond that +nothing could be seen. Mason paused and glanced carefully about him. + +"This fog is useful," he said, with a short laugh. "As we don't want to +advertise our presence we'll take to the woods opposite, and work our +way round to the far side of the camp." + +"Why the far side?" + +"The store is that way. And--yes, I think the store is our best plan. +Jules Lieberstein is a time-serving ruffian, and will doubtless lend +himself to any wildcat scheme of his customers. Besides, this singsong +of the boys sounds suggestive to me." + +"I see." Chepstow was quick to grasp the other's reasoning. The +singsong had suggested nothing to him before. + +Now they turned from the open and hastened across to the wood-belt. As +they entered its gloomy aisles, the fog merged into a pitchy blackness +that demanded all the lumberman's woodcraft to negotiate. The parson +hung close to his heels, and frequently had to assure himself of his +immediate presence by reaching out and touching him. A quarter of an +hour's tramp brought them to a halt. + +"We must get out of this now," whispered Mason. "We are about opposite +the store. I've no doubt that buckboard will be somewhere around. I've +a great fancy to see it." + +They moved on, this time with greater caution than before. Leaving the +forest they found the fog had become denser. The glow of the camp +lights was no longer visible, just a blank gray wall obscured +everything. However, this was no deterrent to Mason. He moved along +with extreme caution, stepping as lightly and quietly as possible. He +wished to avoid observation, and though the fog helped him in this it +equally afforded the possibility of his inadvertently running into some +one. Once this nearly happened. His straining ears caught the faint +sound of footsteps approaching, and he checked his companion only just +in the nick of time to let two heavy-footed lumber-jacks cross their +course directly in front of them. They were talking quite unguardedly +as they went, and seemed absorbed in the subject of their conversation. + +"Y're a fool, a measly-headed fool, Tyke," one of them was saying, with +a heat that held the two men listening. "Y'ain't got nuthin' to lose. +We ain't got no kick comin' from us; I'll allow that, sure. But if by +kickin' we ken drain a few more dollars out of him I say kick, an' kick +good an' hard. Them as is fixin' this racket knows, they'll do the +fancy work. We'll jest set around an'--an' take the boodle as it comes." + +The man laughed harshly. The shrewdness of his argument pleased him +mightily. + +"But what's it for, though?" asked the other, the man addressed as +"Tyke." "Is it a raise in wages?" + +"Say, ain't you smart?" retorted the first speaker. "Sure, it's wages. +A raise. What else does folks strike for?" + +"But----" + +"Cut it. You ain't no sort o' savee. You ain't got nuthin' but to set +around----" + +The voice died away in the distance, and Mason turned to his companion. + +"Not much doubt about that. The man objecting is 'Tyke' Bacon, one of +our oldest hands. A thoroughly reliable axeman of the real sort. The +other fellow's voice I didn't recognize. I'd say he's likely one of the +scallywags I've picked up lately. This trouble seems to have been +brewing ever since I was forced to pick up chance loafers who floated +into camp." + +Chepstow had no comment to make, yet the matter was fraught with the +keenest interest for him. Mason's coolness did not deceive him, and, +even with his limited experience of the men of these camps, the thing +was more than significant. Caution became more than ever necessary now +as they neared their destination, and in a few moments a ruddy glow of +light on the screen of fog told them they had reached the sutler's +store. They came to a halt in rear of the building, and it was +difficult to estimate their exact position. However, the sound of a +powerful, clarion-like voice reached them through the thickness of the +log walls, and the lumberman at once proceeded to grope his way along +in the hope of finding a window or some opening through which it would +be possible to distinguish the words of the speaker. At last his desire +was fulfilled. A small break in the heavy wall of lateral logs proved +to be a cotton-covered pivot-window. It was closed, but the light shone +through it, and the speaker's words were plainly audible. Chepstow +closed up behind him, and both men craned forward listening. + +Some one was addressing what was apparently a meeting of lumber-jacks. +The words and voice were not without refinement, and, obviously, were +not belonging to a lumberman. Moreover, it struck the listeners that +this man, whoever he be, was not addressing a meeting for the first +time. In fact Mason had no difficulty in placing him in the calling to +which he actually belonged. He was discoursing with all the delectable +speciousness of a regular strike organizer. He was one of those +products of trade unionism who are always ready to create +dissatisfaction where labour's contentment is most nourishing to +capital--that is, at a price. He is not necessarily a part of trade +unionism, but exists because trade unionism has created a market for +his wares, and made him possible. + +Just now he was lending all his powers of eloquence and argument to the +threadbare quackery of his kind; the iniquity of the possession of +wealth acquired by the sweat of a thousand moderately honest brows. It +was the old, old dish garnished and hashed up afresh, whose poisonous +odors he was wafting into the nostrils of his ignorant audience. + +He was dealing with men as ignorant and hard as the timber it was their +life to cut, and he painted the picture in all the crude, lurid colors +most effective to their dull senses. The blessings of liberal +employment, of ample wages, the kindly efforts made to add to their +happiness and improve their lives were ignored, even rigorously shut +out of his argument, or so twisted as to appear definite sins against +the legions of labor. For such is the method of those who live upon the +hard-earned wages of the unthinking worker. + +For some minutes the two men listened to the burden of the man's +unctuous periods, but at last an exclamation of disgust broke from the +lumberman. + +"Makes you sick!" he whispered in his companion's ear. "And they'll +believe it all. Here!" He drew a penknife from his pocket and passed +the blade gently through the cotton of the window. The aperture was +small, he dared not make it bigger for fear of detection, but, by +pressing one eye close up against it, it was sufficient for him to +obtain a full view of the room. + +The place was packed with lumber-jacks, all with their keenest +attention upon the speaker, who was addressing them from the +reading-desk Tom Chepstow had set up for the purposes of his Sunday +evening service. The desecration drew a smothered curse from the +lumberman. He was not a religious man, but that an agitator such as +this should stand at the parson's desk was too much for him. He +scrutinized the fellow closely, nor did he recognize him. He was a +stranger to the camp, and his round fat face set his blood surging. +Besides this man there were three others sitting behind him on the +table the parson had set there for the purposes of administering Holy +Communion, and the sight maddened him still more. Two of these he +recognized as laborers he had recently taken on his "time sheet," but +the other was a stranger to him. + +At last he drew back and made way for his companion. + +"Get a good look, parson," he said. Then he added with an angry laugh, +"I've thought most of what you'll feel like saying. I'd--I'd like to +riddle the hide of that son-of-a-dog's-wife. We did well to get around. +We're in for a heap bad time, I guess." + +Chepstow took his place. Mason heard him mutter something under his +breath, and knew at once that the use of his reading-desk and Communion +table had struck home. + +But the sacrilege was promptly swept from the parson's mind. The +speaker was forgotten, the matter of the coming strike, even, was +almost forgotten. He had recognized the third man on the table, the man +who was a stranger to Mason, and he swung round on the lumberman. + +"What's Jim Truscott doing there?" he demanded in a sharp whisper. + +"Who? Jim Truscott?" + +For a second a puzzled expression set Mason frowning. Then his face +cleared. "Say, isn't that the fellow who ran that mill--he's a friend +of--Dave's?" + +But the other had turned back to the window. And, at that moment, +Mason's attention was also caught by the sudden turn the agitator's +talk had taken. + +"Now, my friends," he was saying, "this is the point I would impress on +you. Hitherto we have cut off all communication of a damaging nature to +ourselves with the tyrant at Malkern, but the time has come when even +more stringent measures must be taken. We wish to conduct our +negotiations with the mill-owner himself, direct. We must put before +him our proposals. We want no go-betweens. As things stand we cannot +reach him, and the reason is the authority of his representative up +here. Such obstacles as he can put in our way will be damaging to our +cause, and we will not tolerate them. He must be promptly set aside, +and, by an absolute stoppage of work, we can force the man from Malkern +to come here so that we can talk to him, and insist upon our demands. +We must talk to him as from worker to fellow worker. He must be forced +to listen to reason. Experience has long since taught me that such is +the only way to deal with affairs of this sort. Now, what we propose," +and the man turned with a bow to the three men behind him, thus +including them with himself, "is that without violence we take +possession of these camps and strike all work, and, securing the person +of Mr. Mason, and any others likely to interfere with us, we hold them +safe until all our plans are fully put through. During the period +necessary for the cessation of work, each man will draw an allowance +equal to two-thirds of his wages, and he will receive a guarantee of +employment when the strike is ended. The sutler, Mr. Lieberstein here, +will be the treasurer of the strike funds, and pay each man his daily +wage. There is but one thing more I have to say. We intend to take the +necessary precautions against interference to-night. The cessation of +work will date from this hour. And in the meantime we will put to the +vote----" + +Chepstow, his keen eyes blazing, turned and faced the lumberman. + +"The scoundrels!" he said, with more force than discretion. "Did you +hear? It means----" + +The lumberman chuckled, but held up a warning hand. + +"They're going to take me prisoner," he said. Then he added grimly, +"There's going to be a warm time to-night." + +But the churchman was not listening. Again his thought had reverted to +the presence of Jim Truscott at that meeting. + +"What on earth is young Truscott doing in there?" he asked. "He went +away east the night I set out for these hills. What's he got to do with +that--that rascally agitator? Why--he must be one of the--leaders of +this thing. It's--it's most puzzling!" + +Chepstow's puzzlement did not communicate itself to Mason. The camp +"boss" was less interested in the identity of these people than in the +strike itself. It was his work to see that so much lumber was sent down +the river every day. That was his responsibility. Dave looked to him. +And he was face to face with a situation which threatened the complete +annihilation of all his employer's schemes. A strike effectually +carried out might be prolonged indefinitely, and then-- + +"Look here, parson," he said coolly, "I want you to stay right here for +a minute or so. They aren't likely to be finished for a while inside +there. I want to 'prospect.' I want to find that buckboard. That damned +agitator--'scuse the language--must have come up in it, so I guess it's +near handy. The fog's good and thick, so there's not a heap of chance +of anybody locating us, still----" he paused and glanced into the +churchman's alert eyes. "Have a look to your gun," he went on with a +quiet smile, "and--well, you are a parson, but if anybody comes along +and attempts to molest you I'd use it if I were in your place." + +Chepstow made no reply, but there was something in his look that +satisfied the other. + +Mason hurried away and the parson, left alone, leant against the wall, +prepared to wait for his return. In spite of the plot he had listened +to, the presence of Jim Truscott in that room occupied most of his +thoughts. It was most perplexing. He tried every channel of supposition +and argument, but none gave him any satisfactory explanation. One thing +alone impressed its importance on his mind. That was the necessity of +conveying a warning to Dave. But he remembered they--these +conspirators--had cut communications. Mason and probably he were to be +made prisoners. + +His ire roused. He blazed into a sudden fury. These rascals were to +make them prisoners. Almost unconsciously he drew his gun from his +pocket and turned to the window. As he did so the sound of approaching +footsteps set him alert and defensive. He swung his back to the wall +again, and, gun in hand, stood ready. The next moment he hurriedly +returned the weapon to his pocket, but not before Mason had seen the +attitude and the fighting expression of his face, and it set him +smiling. + +"I've found the buckboard," he said in a whisper. Then he paused and +looked straight into the churchman's eyes. "We're up against it," he +went on. "Maybe you as well as myself. You can't tell where these +fellows'll draw the line. And there's Miss Betty to think of, too. Are +you ready to buck? Are you game? You're a parson, I know, and these +things----" + +"Get to it, boy," Chepstow interrupted him sharply. "I am of necessity +a man of peace, but there are things that become a man's duty. And it +seems to me to hit hard will better serve God and man just now than to +preach peace. What's your plan?" + +Mason smiled. He knew he had read the parson aright. He knew he had in +him a staunch and loyal support. He liked, too, the phrase by which he +excused his weakness for combat. + +"Well, I mean to do this sponge-faced crawler down, or break my neck in +the attempt. I don't intend to be made a prisoner by any damned +strikers. This thing means ruin to Dave, and it's up to me to help him +out. I'm going to get word through to him. I understand now how our +letters have been intercepted, and no doubt his have been stopped too. +I'm going to have a flutter in this game. It's a big one, and makes me +feel good. What say? Are you game?" + +"For anything!" exclaimed the parson with eyes sparkling. + +"Well, there's not a heap of time to waste in talk. I'll just get you +to slip back to the dugout. Gather some food and truck into a sack, and +a couple of guns or so, and some ammunition. Then get Miss Betty and +slip out. Hike on down the trail a hundred yards or so and wait for me. +Can you make it?" + +Chepstow nodded. + +"And you?" he asked. + +"I'm going to get possession of that buckboard, and--come right along. +The scheme's rotten, I know. But it's the best I can think of at the +moment. It's our only chance of warning Dave. There's not a second to +spare now, so cut along. You've got to prepare for a two days' journey." + +"Anything else?" + +"Nothing. Miss Betty's good grit--in case----?" + +Chepstow nodded. + +"Game all through. How long can you give me?" + +"Maybe a half hour." + +"Good. I can make it in that." + +"Right. S'long." + +"S'long." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +AN ADVENTURE IN THE FOG + + +Tom Chepstow set out for the dugout. Churchman as he was his blood was +stirred to fighting heat, his lean, hard muscles were tingling with a +nervous desire for action. Nor did he attempt to check his feelings, or +compose them into a condition compatible with his holy calling. +Possibly, when the time had passed for action, and the mantle of peace +and good-will toward all men had once more fallen upon him, he would +bitterly regret his outbreak, but, for the moment, he was a man, human, +passionate, unreasoning, thrilling with the joy of life, and the +delight of a moral truancy from all his accepted principles. No +schoolboy could have broken the bonds of discipline with a greater joy, +and his own subconscious knowledge of wrong-doing was no mar to his +pleasure. + +The fog was thick, but it did not cause him great inconvenience. He +took to the woods for his course, and, keeping close to the edge which +encircled the camp clearing, he had little difficulty in striking the +path to the dugout. This achieved he had but to follow it carefully. +The one possibility that caused him any anxiety was lest he should +overshoot the hut in the fog. + +But he need have had no fear of this. Dense as the fog was, the lights +of the dugout were plainly visible when he came to it. Betty, with +careful forethought, had set the oil lamps in the two windows. She +quite understood the difficulties of that forest land, and she had no +desire for the men-folk to spend the night roaming the wilderness. + +The parson found her calmly alert. She did not fly at him with a rush +of questions. She was far more composed than he, yet there was a +sparkling brilliancy in her brown eyes which told of feelings strongly +controlled; her eyelids were well parted, and there was a shade of +quickening in the dilation of her nostrils as she breathed. She looked +up into his face as he turned after closing the door, and his tongue +answered the mute challenge. + +"There's to be a great game to-night," he said, rubbing the palms of +his hands together. The tone, the action, both served to point the +state of his mind. + +Knowing him as she did Betty needed no words to tell her that the +"game" was to be no sort of play. + +"It's a 'strike,'" he went on. "A strike, and a bad one. They intend to +make a prisoner of Mason, and, maybe, of us. We've got to outwit them. +Now, help me get some things together, and I'll tell you while we get +ready. We've got to quit to-night." + +He picked up a gunny sack while he was speaking and gave it to Betty to +hold open. Then he immediately began to deplete the lumberman's larder +of any eatables that could be easily carried. + +Ever since the men had left her this strike had been in Betty's mind, +so his announcement in no way startled her. + +"What of Dave?" she asked composedly. "Has he any--idea of it?" + +"That's just it. We've got to let him know. He's quite in the dark. +Communications cut. Mason must get away at once to let him know. He +intends to 'jump' their buckboard and team--I mean these strikers' +buckboard." He laughed. He felt ready to laugh at most things. It was +not that he did not care. His desire was inspired by the thought that +he was to play a part in the "game." + +"The one that came in to-night?" Betty asked, taking up a fresh sack to +receive some pots and blankets. + +"Yes." + +"And we are to bolt with him?" she went on in a peculiar manner. + +Her uncle paused in the act of putting firearms and ammunition into the +sack. Her tone checked his enthusiasm. Then he laughed. + +"We're not 'bolting' Betty, we're escaping so that Dave may get the +news. His fortune depends on our success. Remember our communications +are cut." + +But his arguments fell upon deaf ears. Betty smiled and shook her brown +head. + +"We're bolting, uncle. Listen. There's no need for us to go. In fact, +we can't go. Think for a moment. Things depend on the speed with which +Dave learns of the trouble. We should make two more in the buckboard of +which the horses are already tired. Mason, by himself, will travel +light. Besides, a girl is a deterrent when it comes to--fighting. No, +wait." She held up a warning finger as he was about to interrupt. "Then +there are the sick here. We cannot leave them. They--are our duty. +Besides, Dave's interests would be ill served if we left the fever to +continue its ravages unchecked." + +In her last remark Betty displayed her woman's practical instinct. +Perhaps she was not fully aware of her real motive. Perhaps she +conscientiously believed that it was their duty that claimed her. +Nevertheless her thought was for the man she loved, and it guided her +every word and action; it inspired her. The threat of imprisonment up +here did not frighten her, did not even enter into her considerations +at all. Dave--her every nerve vibrated with desire to help him, to save +him. + +Chepstow suddenly reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. His +enthusiasm had passed, and, for the moment, the churchman in him was +uppermost again. + +"You're right, Betty," he said with decision. "We stay here." + +The girl's eyes thanked him, but her words were full of practical +thought. + +"Will Mason come here? Because, if so, we'll get these things outside +ready." + +"No. We've got to carry them down the trail and meet him there. There +may be a rush. There may be a scuffle. We don't know. I half think +you'd better stay here while I go and meet him." + +Betty shook her head. + +"I'm going to help," she exclaimed, with a flash of battle in her eyes. + +"Then come on." Her uncle shouldered the heavier of the two sacks, and +was about to tuck the other under his arm, but Betty took it from him, +and lifted it to her shoulder in a twinkling. + +"Halves," she cried, as she moved toward the door. + +The man laughed light-heartedly and blew out the lights. Then, as he +reached the girl's side, a distant report caused him to stop short. + +"What's that?" he demanded. + +"A pistol shot," cried Betty. "Come along!" + +They ran out of the hut and down the trail, and, in a moment, were +swallowed up in the fog. + + * * * * * + +Bob Mason intended to give Chepstow a fair start. He knew, if he were +to be successful, his task would occupy far less time than the other's. +And a vital point in his scheme lay in meeting his two friends at the +appointed spot. + +He was fully alive to the rank audacity of his plan. It was desperate, +and the chances were heavily against him. But he was not a man to +shrink from an undertaking on such a score. He had to warn Dave, and +this was the only means that suggested itself. If he were not a genius +of invention, he was at least full of courage and determination. + +On his previous reconnoitre he had located the buckboard at the +tying-posts in front of the store. Quite why it had been left there he +could not understand, unless the strike-leader intended leaving camp +that night. However, the point of interest lay in the fact of the +vehicle and horses being there ready for his use if he could only +safely possess himself of them, so speculation as to the reason of its +being there was only of secondary interest. + +When he made his first move Tom Chepstow had been gone some ten +minutes. He groped his way carefully along the wall until the front +angle of the building was reached, and here he paused to ascertain the +position of things. The meeting was still in progress inside, and, as +yet, there seemed to be no sign of its breaking up. The steady hum of +voices that reached him told him this. + +About twenty yards directly in front of him was the buckboard; while to +the right, perhaps half that distance away, was the open door of the +store, and adjacent to it a large glass window. Both were lit up, and +the glow from the oil lamps shone dully on the fog bank. He was half +inclined to reconnoitre these latter to ascertain if any one were +about, but finally decided to go straight for his goal and chance +everything. With this intention he moved straight out from the building +and vanished in the fog. + +He walked quickly. Fortune favored him until he was within a few yards +of the tying-post, when suddenly the clanging of an iron-handled bucket +being set roughly upon the ground brought him to a dead standstill. +Some one was tending the horses--probably watering them. Evidently they +were being got ready for a journey. Almost unconsciously his hand went +to the pocket in which he carried his revolver. + +At that moment a roar of applause came from the store, and he knew the +meeting was drawing to a close. Then came a prolonged cheering, +followed by the raucous singing of "He's a jolly good fellow." It _was_ +the end. + +He could delay no longer. Taking his bearings as well as the fog would +permit, he struck out for the tail end of the buckboard. He intended +reaching the "near-side" of the horses, where he felt that the reins +would be looped up upon the harness, and as the best means of avoiding +the man with the bucket. + +In this he had little difficulty, and when he reached the vehicle he +bent low, and, passing clear of the wheels, drew up toward the horses' +heads. By this time the man with the bucket was moving away, and he +breathed more freely. + +But his relief was short-lived. The men were already pouring out of the +store, and the fog-laden air was filled with the muffled tones of many +voices. To add to his discomfiture he further became aware of footsteps +approaching. He could delay no longer. He dared not wait to let them +pass. Then, they might be the owners of the buckboard. His movements +became charged with almost electrical activity. + +He reached out and assured himself that the bits were in the horses' +mouths. Then he groped for the reins; as he expected, they were looped +in the harness. Possessing himself of them, he reached for the +collar-chain securing the horses to the posts. He pressed the swivel +open, and, releasing it, lowered the chain noiselessly. And a moment +later two men loomed up out of the fog on the "off-side." They were +talking, and he listened. + +"It's bad med'cine you leaving to-night," he heard the voice of the +strike-leader say in a grumbling tone. + +"I can't help that," came the response. It was a voice he did not +recognize. + +"Well, we've got to secure this man Mason to-night. You can't trust +these fellows a heap. Give 'em time, and some one will blow the game. +Then he'll be off like a rabbit." + +"Well, it's up to you to get him," the strange voice retorted sharply. +"I'm paying you heavily. You've undertaken the job. Besides, there's +that cursed parson and his niece up here. I daren't take a chance of +their seeing me. I oughtn't to have come up here at all. If Lieberstein +hadn't been such a grasping pig of a Jew there would have been no need +for my coming. You've just got to put everything through on your own, +Walford. I'm off." + +Mason waited for no more. The buckboard belonged to the stranger, and +he was about to use it. He laughed inwardly, and his spirits rose. +Everything was ready. He dropped back to the full extent of the reins +as stealthily and as swiftly as possible. This cleared him of the +buckboard and hid him from the view of the men. Then with a rein in +each hand he slapped them as sharply as he could on the quarters of the +cold and restless horses. They jumped at the neck-yoke, and with a +"yank" he swung them clear of the tying-posts. He shouted at them and +slapped the reins again, and the only too willing beasts plunged into a +gallop. + +He heard an exclamation from one of the men as the buckboard shot past +them, and the other made a futile grab for the off-side rein. For +himself he seized the rail of the carryall with one hand and gave a +wild leap. He dropped into the vehicle safely but with some force, and +his legs were left hanging over the back. + +But he had not cleared the danger yet. He was in the act of drawing in +his legs when they were seized in an arm embrace, and the whole weight +of a man hung upon him in an effort to drag him off the vehicle. There +was no time to consider. He felt himself sliding over the rail, which +only checked his progress for an instant. But that instant gave him a +winning chance. He drew his revolver, and leveling it, aimed +point-blank at where he thought the man's shoulder must be. There was a +loud report, and the grip on his legs relaxed. The man dropped to the +ground, and he was left to scramble to his feet and climb over into the +driving-seat. + +A blind, wild drive was that race from the store. He drove like a fury +in the fog, trusting to the instinct of the horses and the luck of the +reckless to guide him into the comparative safety of the eastward trail. + +As the horses flew over the ground the cries of the strikers filled the +air. They seemed to come from every direction, even ahead. The noise, +the rattle of the speeding wheels, fired his excitement. The fog--the +dense gray pall that hung over the whole camp--was his salvation, and +he shouted back defiance. + +It was a useless and dangerous thing to do, and he realized his folly +at once. A great cry instantly went up from the strikers. He was +recognized, and his name was shouted in execration. He only laughed. +There was joy in the feel of the reins, in the pulling of the +mettlesome horses. They were running strong and well within themselves. + +It was only a matter of seconds from the time of his start to the +moment when he felt the vehicle bump heavily over a series of ruts. He +promptly threw his weight on the near-side rein, and the horses swung +round. It was the trail he was looking for. And as the horses settled +down to it he breathed more freely. It was only after this point had +been gained and passed that he realized the extent of his previous +risk. He knew that the entrance to the trail on its far side was lined +by log shanties, and he had been driving straight for them. + +In the midst of his freshly-acquired ease of mind came a sudden and +unpleasant recollection. He remembered the path through the woods to +the dugout; it was shorter than the trail he was on by nearly a mile. +While he had over a mile and a half to go, those in pursuit, if they +took to the path, had barely half. + +He listened. But he knew beforehand that his fears were only too well +founded. Yes, he could hear them. The voices of the pursuers sounded +away to the left. They were abreast of him. They had taken to the +woods. He snatched the whip from its socket and laid it heavily across +the horses' backs, and the animals stretched out into a race. The +buckboard jumped, it rattled and shrieked. The pace was terrific. But +he was ready to take every chance now, so long as he could gain +sufficient time to take up those he knew to be waiting for him ahead. + +In another few minutes he would know the worst--or the best. Again and +again he urged his horses. But already they were straining at the top +of their speed. They galloped as though the spirit of the race had +entered their willing souls. They could do no more than they were +doing; it was only cruelty to flog them. If their present speed was +insufficient then he could not hope to outstrip the strikers. If he +only could hear their voices dropping behind. + +The minutes slipped by. The fog worried him. He was watching for the +dugout, and he feared lest he should pass it unseen. Nor could he +estimate the distance he had come. Hark! the shouts of the pursuers +were drawing nearer, and--they were still abreast of him! He must be +close on the dugout. He peered into the fog, and suddenly a dark shadow +at the trail-side loomed up. There was no mistaking it. It was the hut; +and it was in darkness. His friends must be on ahead. How far! that was +the question. On that depended everything. + +What was that? The hammering of heavy feet on the hard trail sounded +directly behind him. He had gained nothing. Then he thought of that +halt that yet remained in front of him, and something like panic seized +him. He slashed viciously at his horses. + +He felt like a man obsessed with the thought of trailing bloodhounds. +He must keep on, on. There must be no pause, no rest, or the ravening +pack would fall on him and rend him. Yet he knew that halt must come. +He was gaining rapidly enough now. Without that halt they could never +come up with him. But--his ears were straining for Chepstow's summons. +Every second it was withheld was something gained. He possessed a +frantic hope that some guiding spirit might have induced the churchman +to take up a position very much further on than he had suggested. + +"Hallo!" + +The call had come. Chepstow was at the edge of the trail. Mason's hopes +dropped to zero. He abandoned himself to the inevitable, flung his +weight on the reins, and brought his horses to a stand with a jolt. + +"Where's Miss Betty?" he demanded. But his ears caught the sound of the +men behind him, and he hurried on without waiting for a reply. "Quick, +parson! The bags! fling 'em in, and jump for it! They're close behind!" + +"Betty's gone back," cried Chepstow, flinging the sacks into the +carryall. "I'm going back too. You go on alone. We've got the sick to +see to. Tell Dave we're all right. So long! Drive on! Good luck! Eh?" + +A horrified cry from Mason had caused the final ejaculation. + +He was pointing at the off-side horse standing out at right angles to +the pole. + +"For God's sake, fix that trace," he cried. "Quick, man! It's unhooked! +Gee! What infern----" + +Chepstow sprang to secure the loosened trace. He, too, could hear the +pursuers close behind. He fumbled the iron links in his anxiety, and it +took some moments to adjust. + +"Right," he cried at last, after what seemed an interminable time. +Mason whipped up his horses, and they sprang to their traces. But as +they did so there was a sudden rush from behind, and a figure leapt on +to the carryall. The buckboard rocked and the driver, in the act of +shouting at his horses, felt himself seized by the throat from behind. + +Fortunately the churchman saw it all. His blood rushed to his brain. As +the buckboard was sweeping past him he caught the iron rail and leapt. +In an instant he was on his feet and had closed with Mason's assailant. +He, too, went for the throat, with all the ferocity of a bulldog. The +mantle of the church was cast to the winds. He was panting with the +lust for fight, and he crushed his fingers deep into the man's +windpipe. They dropped together on the sacks. + +Mason, released, dared not turn. He plied his whip furiously. He had +the legs of his pursuers and he meant to add to his distance. He heard +the struggle going on behind him. He heard the gasp of a choking man. +And, listening, he reveled in it as men of his stamp will revel in such +things. + +"Choke him, parson! Choke the swine!" he hurled viciously over his +shoulder. + +He got no answer. The struggle went on in silence, and presently Mason +began to fear for the result. He slackened his horses down and glanced +back. Tom Chepstow's working features looked up into his. + +"I've got him," he said: then of a sudden he looked anxiously down at +the man he was kneeling on. "He's--he's unconscious. I hope---- You'd +better pull up." + +"I wish you'd choke the life out of him," cried Mason furiously. + +"I did my best, I'm afraid," the parson replied ruefully. "You'd better +pull up." + +But the lumberman kept on. + +"Half a minute. Get these matches, and have a look at him. I'll slow +down." + +The churchman seized the matches, and, in his anxiety at what he had +done, struck several before he got one burning long enough to see the +unconscious man's face. Finally he succeeded, and an ejaculation of +surprise broke from him. + +"Heavens! It's Jim Truscott!" he cried. + +He pressed his hand over the man's heart. + +"Thank God! he's alive," he added. + +Mason drew up sharply. A sudden change had come over his whole manner. +He sprang to the ground. + +"Here, help me secure him," he said almost fiercely. "I'll take him +down to Dave." + +They lashed their prisoner by his hands and feet. Then Mason seized the +churchman excitedly by the arm. + +"Get back, parson!" he cried. "Get back to the dugout quick as hell'll +let you! There's Miss Betty!" + +"God! I'd forgotten! And there's those--strikers!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +TERROR IN THE MOUNTAINS + + +Fear drove Chepstow headlong for the dugout. Mason's words, his tone +and manner, had served to excite him to a pitch closely bordering upon +absolute terror. What of Betty? Over and over again he asked himself +what might not happen to her, left alone at the mercy of these savages? +What if, baulked of their prey, they turned to loot and wreck his hut? +It was more than possible. To his fear-stricken imagination it was +inevitable. His gorge rose and he sickened at the thought, and he raced +through the fog to the girl's help. + +The self-torture he suffered in those weary minutes was exquisite. He +railed at his own criminal folly in letting her leave his side. He +reviled Mason and his wild schemes. Dave and his interests were +banished from his mind. The well-being of Malkern, of the mills, of +anybody in the world but the helpless girl, mattered not at all to him. +It was Betty--of Betty alone he thought. + +An innocent girl in the hands of such ruthless brutes as these +strikers--what could she do? It was a maddening thought. He prayed to +Heaven as he went, that he might be in time, and his prayers rang with +a fervor such as they never possessed in his vocation as a churchman. +And this mood alternated with another, which was its direct antithesis. +The vicious thoughts of a man roused to battle ran through his brain in +a fiery torrent. His whole outlook upon life underwent a change. All +the kindly impulses of his heart, all the teachings of his church, all +his best Christian beliefs, fell from him, and left him the naked, +passionate man. Churchman, good Christian he undoubtedly was, but, +before all things, he was a man; and just now a man in fighting mood. + +It probably took him less than twenty minutes to make the return +journey, yet it seemed to him hours--he certainly endured hours of +mental anguish. But at last it ended with almost ludicrous abruptness. +In the obscurity of the fog he was brought to a halt by impact with the +walls of the dugout. + +He recovered himself and stood for a moment listening. There was no +sound of any one within, nor was there any sign of the strikers. He +moved round to the door; a beam of light shone beneath it. He breathed +more freely. Then, to his dismay, at his first touch, the door swung +open. His fears leapt again, he dreaded what that open door might +disclose. Then, in the midst of his fears, a cry of relief and joy +broke from him. + +"Thank God, you're safe!" he exclaimed, as he rushed into the room. + +Betty looked up from the work in her lap. She was seated beside the +box-stove sewing. Her calmness was in flat contrast to her uncle's +excited state. She smiled gently, and her soft eyes had in them a +questioning humor that had a steadying effect upon the man. + +"Safe? Why, dear, of course I'm safe," she said. "But--I was a little +anxious about you. You were so long getting back. Did Bob Mason get +safely away?" + +Chepstow laughed. + +"Yes, oh yes. _He_ got away safely." + +"He?" + +The work lay in Betty's lap, and her fingers had become idle. + +"Yes. But we captured one of the strikers." + +The parson suddenly turned to the door and barred it securely. Then, as +he went on, he crossed to the windows, and began to barricade them. + +"Yes, we had a busy time. They were hard on his heels when he pulled up +for me. We nailed the foremost. He jumped on the buckboard and almost +strangled Mason. I jumped on it too, and--and almost strangled him." + +He laughed harshly. His blood was still up. Betty bent over her work +and her expressive face was hidden. + +"Who was he? I mean your prisoner. Did you recognize him, or was he a +new hand?" + +Chepstow's laugh abruptly died out. He had suddenly remembered who his +prisoner was; and he tried to ignore the question. + +"Oh, yes, we recognized him. But," he went on hurriedly, "we must get +some supper. I think we are in for a busy time." + +But Betty was not so easily put off. Besides, her curiosity was roused +by her uncle's evident desire to avoid the subject. + +"Who was he?" she demanded again. + +There was no escape, and the man knew it. Betty could be very +persistent. + +"Eh? Oh, I'm afraid it was Jim--Jim Truscott," he said reluctantly. + +Betty rose from her chair without a word. She stirred the fire in the +cook-stove, and began to prepare a supper of bacon and potatoes and +tea, while her uncle went on with his task of securing the windows. It +was the latter who finally broke the silence. + +"Has any one--has anybody been here?" he asked awkwardly. + +Betty did not look up from her work. + +"Two men paid me a visit," she said easily. "One asked for you. He +seemed angry. I--I told him you had gone over to the sick camp--that +you were coming back to supper. He laughed--fiercely. He said if you +didn't come back I'd find myself up against it. Then he hurried +off--and I was glad." + +"And the other?" + +Chepstow's work was finished. He had crossed over and was standing +beside the cook-stove. His question came with an undercurrent of +fierceness that Betty was unused to, but she smiled up into his face. + +"The other? I think he had been drinking. He was one of those two I met +in the woods. He asked me why I hadn't taken his warning. I told him I +was considering it. He leered at me and said it was too late, and +assured me I must take the consequences. Then he--tried to kiss me. It +was rather funny." + +"Funny? Great Heavens! And you----" + +Betty's smile broadened as she pointed to a heavy revolver lying in the +chair she had just vacated. + +"I didn't have any trouble. I told him there were five barrels in that, +all loaded, and each barrel said he'd better get out." + +"Did--did he go?" + +Chepstow could scarcely control his fury. But Betty answered him in a +quiet determined manner. + +"Not until I had emptied one of them," she said. Then with a rueful +smile she added, "But it went very wide of its mark." + +Her uncle tried to laugh, but the result was little better than a +furious snort. + +"Why did you leave the door open?" he inquired a moment later. + +"Well, you were out. You might have returned in--in a hurry and---- But +sit down, uncle dear, food's ready." + +The man sat down and Betty stood by to supply him with all he needed. +Then he noticed she had only prepared food for one. + +"Why, child, what about you?" he demanded kindly. + +"I've had some biscuits and tea, before you came in. I'm not hungry. +Now don't bother about it, dear. Yes, I am quite well." She shook her +head and smiled at him as he attempted to interrupt her, but the smile +was a mere cloak to her real feelings. She had eaten before he came in, +as she said. But if she hadn't she could have eaten nothing now. Her +mind was swept with a hot tide of anxious thought. She had a thousand +and one questions unanswered, and she knew it would be useless putting +any one of them to her kindly, impetuous uncle. He was to her the +gentlest of guardians, but quite impossible as a confidant for her +woman's fears, her woman's passionate desire to help the man she loved. +He was staunch and brave, and in what might lay before them she could +have no better companion, no better champion, but where the subtleties +of her woman's feelings were concerned there could be no confidence in +him. + +She watched him eat in silence, and, presently, when he looked up at +her, her soft brown eyes were lit by an almost maternal regard for him. +He had no understanding of that look, and Betty knew it, otherwise it +would not have been there. + +"I can't understand it all," he said. "Jim is a worse--a worse rascal +than I thought. I believe he's not only in this strike, but one of the +organizers. Why? That's what I can't make out. Is it mischief--wanton +mischief? Is it jealousy of Dave's success? It's a puzzle I can't solve +anyhow. After all his protestations to me the thing's inconceivable. +It's enough to destroy all one's belief in human nature." + +"Or strengthen it." + +"Eh?" + +"It is only natural for people to err," Betty said seriously. "And +having erred it is human nature, whatever our motives, however good our +intentions, to find that the mire into which we have fallen sucks hard. +It is more often than not the floundering to save ourselves that drives +us deeper into it. Poor Jim. He needs our pity and help, just as we so +often need help." + +Her uncle stared into the grave young face. His astonishment kept him +silent for a moment. He pushed impatiently away from the table. But it +was not until Betty had moved back to her chair at the stove that he +found words to express himself. He was angry, quite angry with her. It +was not that he was really unchristian, but when he thought of all that +this strike meant, he felt that sympathy for the man who was possibly +the cause of it was entirely out of place. + +"Truscott needs none of your pity, Betty," he said sharply. "If pity be +needed it is surely for those whom one man's mischief will harm. Do you +know what this strike means, child? Before it reaches the outside of +these camps it will turn a tide of vice loose upon the men themselves. +They will drink, gamble. They will quarrel and fight. And when such men +fight it more often than not results in some terrible tragedy. Then, +like some malignant cuttlefish, this strike will grope its crushing +feelers out from here, its lair, seeking prey on which to fix its +sucking tentacles. They will reach Malkern, and work will be paralyzed. +That means ruin to more than half the villagers who depend upon their +weekly wage. It goes further than that. The mills will shut down. And +if the mills shut, good-bye to all trade in Malkern. It means ruin for +everybody. It means the wrecking of all Dave's hopes--hopes which have +for their object the welfare of the people of our valley. It is a piece +of rascality that nothing can justify. Jim Truscott does not need our +pity. It is the penitentiary he needs. Betty, I'm--I'm----" + +But Betty looked up with passionate, glowing eyes from the work she had +resumed. + +"Do you think I don't know what it means, uncle?" she demanded, with a +depth of feeling that silenced him instantly. "Do you think because I +pity poor Jim that I do not understand the enormity of his wickedness +in this matter? Have I spent the best part of my life in our valley +carrying on the work that has fallen to my share--work that has been my +joy and happiness to do--without understanding the cruelty which this +strike means to our people, those who are powerless to help themselves +against it? Do you think I don't understand what it means to Dave? Oh, +uncle, if you but knew," she went on reproachfully. "I know it means +practically the end of all things for Dave if his contract fails. I +know that he is all out for the result. That his resources are even now +taxed to their uttermost limit, and that only the smooth running of the +work can save him from a disaster that will involve us all. If I had a +man's strength there is nothing I would not do to serve him. If my two +hands, if my brain could assist him in the smallest degree, he would +not need to ask for them. They are his--his!" she cried, with a passion +that thrilled the listening man. "You are angry with me because I feel +sorry for an erring man. I _am_ sorry for him. Yet should evil come to +our valley--to Dave--through his work, no wildcat would show him less +mercy than I. Oh, why am I not a man with two strong hands?" she cried +despairingly. "Why am I condemned to be a useless burden to those I +love? Oh, Dave, Dave," she cried with a sudden self-abandonment, so +passionate, so overwhelming that it alarmed her uncle, "why can't I +help you? Why can't I stand beside you and share in your battles with +these two hands?" She held out her arms, in a gesture of appeal. Then +they dropped to her side. In a moment she turned almost fiercely upon +her uncle, swept on by a tide of feeling long pent up behind the +barrier of her woman's reserve, but now no longer possible of +restraint. "I love him! I love him! I know! You are ashamed for me! I +can see it in your face! You think me unwomanly! You think I have +outraged the conventions which hem our sex in! And what if I have? I +don't care! I care for nothing and no one but him! He is the world to +me--the whole, wide world. I love him so I would give my life for him. +Oh, uncle, I love him, and I am powerless to help him." + +She sank into her chair, and buried her face in her hands. Blame, +displeasure, contempt, nothing mattered. The woman was stirred, let +loose; the calm strength which was so great a part of her character, +had been swept aside by her passion, which saw only the hopelessness +with which this strike confronted the man she loved. + +Chepstow watched her for some moments. He was no longer alarmed. His +heart ached for her, and he wanted to comfort her. But it was not easy +for him. At last he moved close to her side, and laid a hand upon her +bowed head. The action was full of a tender, even reverential sympathy. +And it was that, more than his words, which helped to comfort the +woman's stricken heart. + +"You're a good child, Betty," he said awkwardly. "And--and I'm glad you +love him. Dave will win out. Don't you fear. It is the difficulties he +has had to face that have made him the man he is. Remember Mason has +got away, and---- What's that?" + +Something crashed against the door and dropped to the ground outside. +Though the exclamation had broken from the man he needed no answer. It +was a stone. A stone hurled with vicious force. + +Betty sat up. Her face had suddenly returned to its usual calm. She +looked up into her uncle's eyes, and saw that the light of battle had +been rekindled there. Her own eyes brightened. She, too, realized that +battle was imminent. They were two against hundreds. Her spirit warmed. +Her recent hopelessness passed and she sprang to her feet. + +"The cowards!" she cried. + +The man only laughed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE RED TIDE OF ANARCHY + + +Betty and her uncle spent the next few hours in preparing for +eventualities. They explored the storeroom and armory, and in the +latter they found ample provision for a stout defense. There were +firearms in plenty, and such a supply of ammunition as should be +sufficient to withstand a siege. The store of dynamite gave them some +anxiety. It was dangerous where it was, in case of open warfare, but it +would be still more dangerous in the hands of the strikers. Eventually +they concealed it well under a pile of other stores in the hopes, in +case of accident, it might remain undiscovered. + +During their preparations several more stones crashed against the walls +and the door of the building. They were hurled at longish intervals, +and seemed to be the work of one person. Then, finally no more were +thrown, and futile as the attack had been, its cessation brought a +certain relief and ease of mind. To the man it suggested the work of +some drunken lumber-jack--perhaps the man who had been so forcibly +rebuffed by Betty earlier in the evening. + +It was one o'clock when Chepstow took a final look round his +barricades. Betty was sitting at the table with a fine array of +firearms spread out before her. She had just finished loading the last +one when her uncle came to her side. She looked up at him with quiet +amusement in her eyes. + +"I was wondering," she said, with just a suspicion of satire in her +manner, "whether we are in a state of siege, or--panic?" + +But her uncle's sense of humor was lacking at the moment. He saw only +the gravity of his responsibility. + +"You'd best get to bed," he said a little severely. "I shall sit up. +You must get all the rest you can. We do not know what may be in store +for us." + +Betty promptly fell in with his mood. + +"But the sick?" she said. "We must visit them to-morrow. We cannot let +them suffer." + +"No. We must wait and see what to-morrow brings forth. In the +meantime----" + +He broke off, listening. Betty too had suddenly turned her eyes upon +the barred door. There was a long pause, during which the murmur of +many voices reached them, and the faint but distinct sound of tramping +feet. The man's eyes grew anxious, his lean face was set and hard. It +was easy enough to read his thoughts. He was weighing the possibilities +of collision with these strikers, and calculating the chances in his +favor. Betty seemed less disturbed. Her eyes were steady and interested +rather than alarmed. + +"There's a crowd of them," said her uncle in a hushed voice. + +The girl listened for something which perhaps her uncle had forgotten. +Sober, she did not expect much trouble from these people. If they had +been drinking it would be different. + +The voices grew louder. The shuffling, clumping footsteps grew louder. +They drew near. They were within a few yards of the building. Finally +they stopped just outside the door. Instantly there was a loud +hammering upon it, and a harsh demand for admittance. + +Neither stirred. + +"Open the door!" roared the voice, and the cry was taken up by others +until it grew into a perfect babel of shouting and cursing. + +Betty moved to her uncle's side and laid a hand upon his arm. She +looked up into his face and saw the storm-clouds of his anger gathering +there. + +"We shall have to open it, uncle," she said. "That's--that's Tim +Canfield's voice." + +He looked down into her eager young face. He saw no fear there. He +feared, but not for himself: it was of her he was thinking. He wanted +to open the door. He wanted to vent his anger in scathing defiance, but +he was thinking of the girl in his charge. He was her sole protection. +He knew, only too well, what "strike" meant to these men. It meant the +turning of their savage passions loose upon brains all too untutored to +afford them a semblance of control. Then there was the drink, and drink +meant-- + +The clamor at the door was becoming terrific. He stirred, and, walking +swiftly across the room, put his mouth to the jamb. + +"What do you want?" he shouted angrily. "What right have you to come +here disturbing us at such an hour?" + +Instantly the noise dropped. Then he heard Tim's voice repeating his +words to the crowd, and they were greeted with a laugh that had in it a +note of rebellion. + +The laugh died out as the spokesman turned again to the door. + +"Open this gorl-durned door, or we'll bust it in!" he shouted. And a +chorus of "Break it in!" was taken up by the crowd. + +The parson's anger leapt. His keen nerves were on edge in a moment. +Even Betty's gentle eyes kindled. He turned to her, his eyes blazing. + +"Hand me a couple of guns!" he cried, in a voice that reached the men +outside. "Get hold of a couple yourself! If there's to be trouble we'll +take a hand!" Then he turned to the door, and his voice was thrilling +with "fight." "I'll open the door to no one till I know what you want!" +he shouted furiously. "Beat the door in! I warn you those who step +inside will get it good and plenty! Beat away!" + +His words had instant effect. For several seconds there was not a sound +on the other side of the door. Then some one muttered something, and +instantly the crowd took up a fierce cry, urging their leaders on. + +But the men in front were not to be rushed into a reckless assault, and +a fierce altercation ensued. Finally silence was restored, and Tim +Canfield spoke again, but there was a conciliatory note in his voice +this time. + +"You ken open it, passon," he said. "We're talkin' fair. We ain't +nuthin' up agin you. We're astin' you to help us out some. Ef you open +that door, me an' Mike Duggan'll step in, an' no one else. We'll tell +you what's doin'. Ther' don't need be no shootin' to this racket." + +The churchman considered. The position was awkward. His anger was +melting, but he knew that, for the moment, he had the whip hand. +However, he also knew if he didn't open the door, ultimately force +would certainly be used. These were not the men to be scared easily. +But Betty was in his thoughts, and finally it was Betty who decided for +him. + +"Open it," she whispered. "It's our best course. I don't think they +mean any harm--yet." + +The man reluctantly obeyed, but only after some moments' hesitation. He +withdrew the bars, and as the girl moved away beyond the stove, and sat +down to her sewing, he stepped aside, covering the doorway with his two +revolvers. + +"Only two of you!" he cried, as the door swung open. + +The two men came in and, turning quickly, shut the rest of the crowd +out and rebarred the door. + +Then they confronted the churchman's two guns. There was something +tremendously compelling in Chepstow's attitude and the light of battle +that shone in his eyes. He meant business, and they knew it. Their +respect for him rose, and they watched him warily until presently he +lowered the guns to his side. + +He eyed them severely. They were men he knew, men who were real +lumber-jacks, matured in the long service of Dave's mills, men who +should have known better. They were powerfully built and grizzled, with +faces and eyes as hard as their tremendous muscles. He knew the type +well. It was the type he had always admired, and a type, once they were +on the wrong path, he knew could be very, very dangerous. + +"Well, boys," he demanded, in a more moderate tone, yet holding them +with the severity of his expression. "What's all this bother about? +What do you mean by this intolerable--bulldozing?" + +The men suddenly discovered Betty at the far side of the stove. Her +attitude was one of preoccupation in her sewing. It was pretense, but +it looked natural. They abruptly pulled off their caps, and for the +moment, seemed half abashed. But it was only for the moment. The next, +Canfield turned on the churchman coldly. + +"You're actin' kind o' foolish, passon," he said. "It ain't no use +talkin' gun-play when ther' ain't no need whatever. It's like to make +things ridic'lous awkward, an' set the boys sore. We come along here +peaceful to talk you fair----" + +"So you bring an army," broke in Chepstow, impatiently, "after holding +a meeting at the store, and considering the advisability of making +prisoners of my niece and me." + +"Who said?" demanded Tim fiercely. + +"I did," retorted Chepstow militantly. + +The promptness of his retort silenced the lumberman. He grinned, and +leered round at his companion. + +"Well?" The parson's voice was getting sharper. + +"Well, it's like this, passon. Ther' ain't goin' to be no +prisoner-makin' if you'll act reas'nable. Ther' ain't nuthin' up to you +nor the leddy but wot's good an' clean. You've see to our boys who's +sick, an' just done right by us--we can't say the same fer others. We +just want you to come right along down to the camp. Ther's a feller bin +shot by that all-fired skunk Mason, an' I guess he's jest busy bleedin' +plumb to death. Will you come?" + +"Who is it?" + +The shortness of Chepstow's tone was uncompromising. + +The lumber-jack stirred uneasily. He glanced round at his companion. +The churchman saw the look and understood. + +"Come on, Mike Duggan, out with it. I'm not going to be played with," +he said. "Your mate doesn't seem easy about it. I suppose it's one of +the ringleaders of your strike, and you want me to patch him up so he +can go on with his dirty work. Well? I'm waiting." + +Duggan's eyes flashed. + +"Easy, passon," he said sharply. "The feller's name is Walford. You +ain't like to know him fer sure. He's kind o' runnin' things fer us. +He's hit in the shoulder bad." + +"Ah, it's that fellow who was speaking at your meeting. So he's got his +medicine. Good. Well, you want me to fix him up?" + +The lumber-jacks nodded. + +"That's it," said Duggan cheerfully. + +Chepstow considered for a moment. Then he glanced over at Betty. Their +eyes met, and his had a smile of encouragement in them. He turned back +at once to the waiting men. + +"I'll help you, but on one or two conditions. I demand my own +conditions absolutely. They're easy, but I won't change them or +moderate them by a single detail." + +"Get to it, passon," said Canfield, as he paused. "Make 'em easy, an' +ther' won't be no kick comin'." + +"You must bring the fellow here, and leave him with us until he is +sufficiently recovered. Any of you can come and see him, if he's not +too sick. Then you must give me a guarantee that my niece and I can +visit the sick camp to tend the boys up there without any sort of +molestation. You understand? You must guarantee this. You must +guarantee that we are in no way interfered with, and if at any time we +are out of this hut, no one will enter it without our permission. We +are here for peace. We are here to help your sick comrades. Your +affairs with your employers have nothing to do with us. Is it a deal?" + +"Why sure, passon," replied Duggan. And Tim nodded his approval. + +"It's folks like you makes things easy fer us," added the latter, with +hearty good-will. "Guess we'll shake on it." + +He held out his hand, and Chepstow promptly gripped it. He also shook +the other by the hand. + +"Now, boys," he said genially, "how about those others outside? How +will you guarantee them?" + +"We'll fix that quick. Say, Mike, just open that door." Canfield turned +again to Chepstow, while Mike obeyed orders. "I'll give 'em a few +words," he went on, "an' we'll send right off for Walford. He's mighty +bad, passon. He's----" + +The door was open by this time, and the two men hurried out. Chepstow +secured it behind them, and stood listening for what was to happen. He +heard Canfield haranguing the crowd, and his words seemed to have the +desired effect, for presently the whole lot began to move off, and in +two minutes the last sound of voices and receding footsteps had died +out. Betty drew a sigh of relief. + +"Uncle," she said, smiling affectionately across at him as he left the +door and came toward the stove, "you are a genius of diplomacy." + +The man laughed self-consciously. + +"Well, we have gained a point," he said doubtfully. + +Betty let her eyes fall upon her sewing again. + +"Yes, we have gained a point. I wonder how long that point will hold +good, when--when the drink begins to flow." + +"That's what I'm wondering." + +And their question was answered in less than twenty-four hours. + + +Half an hour later the wounded strike-leader was brought to the hut. He +was in a semi-conscious state, and a swift examination showed him to be +in a pretty bad way. The bullet had ploughed its way through the +shoulder, smashing both the collar-bone and the shoulder-blade. Then, +though no vital spot had been touched, the loss of blood had been +terrific. He had been left lying at the store ever since he was shot by +Mason, with just a rough bandage of his own shirt, which had been quite +powerless to stop the flow of blood. + +It took Chepstow nearly two hours to dress the wound and set the bones, +and by that time the man's weakness had plunged him into absolute +unconsciousness. Still, this was due solely to loss of blood, and with +careful nursing there was no real reason why he should not make a +satisfactory recovery. + +The rest of the night was spent at the sick man's bedside. Betty and +her uncle shared the vigil in reliefs, and, weary work as it was, they +never hesitated. A life was at stake, and though the man was the cause +of all the trouble, or instrumental in it, they were yet ready to spare +no effort on his behalf. With the parson it was sheer love of his duty +toward all men that gave him inspiration. With Betty there may have +been a less Christian spirit in her motives. All this man's efforts had +been directed against the man she loved, and she hated him for it; but +a life was at stake, and a life, to her, was a very sacred thing. + +The next day was spent between care for the sick at the fever camp and +the wounded man in their own quarters, and the guarantee of the +strikers was literally carried out. There were one or two visits to +their sick leader, but no interference or molestation occurred. Then at +sundown came the first warning of storm. + +Betty was returning to the dugout. She was tired and sick at heart with +her labors. For both it had been a strenuous day, but it had found her +strength out a good deal more than it had her uncle's. Ahead of her she +knew there yet lay a long night of nursing the wounded man. + +It was a gorgeous evening. The fog had quite passed away. A splendid +sunset lit the glittering peaks towering about her with a cloak of +iridescent fire. The snow caps shone with a ruddy glow, while the +ancient glaciers suggested molten streams pouring from the heart of +them to the darkling wood-belts below. The girl paused and for a moment +the wonder of the scene lifted her out of her weariness. But it was +only momentary. The whole picture was so transient. It changed and +varied with kaleidoscopic suddenness, and vanished altogether in less +than five minutes. Again the mountains assumed the gray cold of their +unlit beauties. The sun had gone, and day merged into night with almost +staggering abruptness. She turned with a sigh to resume her journey. + +It was then that her attention was drawn elsewhere. In the direction of +the lumber camp, in the very heart of it, it seemed, a heavy smoke was +rising and drifting westward on the light evening breeze. It was not +the haze of smoke from campfires just lit, but a cloud augmented by +great belches from below. And in the growing dusk she fancied there was +even a ruddy reflection lighting it. She stared with wide-open, +wondering eyes. + +Suddenly a great shaft of flame shot up into its midst, and, as it lit +the scene, she heard the shouting of men mingling with the crash of +falling timber. She stood spellbound, a strange terror gripping her +heart. It was fear of the unknown. There was a fire--burning what? She +turned and ran for the dugout. + +Bursting into the hut, she poured out her tidings to her uncle, who was +preparing supper. The man listening to her hasty words understood the +terror that beset her. Fire in those forest regions might well strike +terror into the heart. He held a great check upon himself. + +"Sit down, child," he said gently, at the conclusion of her story. "Sit +down and have some food. Afterward, while you see to Walford, I'll cut +through the woods and see what's doing." + +He accomplished his object. Betty calmed at once, and obediently sat +down to the food he set before her. She even forced herself to eat, and +presently realized she was hungry. The churchman said nothing until +they had finished eating. Then he lit his pipe. + +"It's drink, I expect," he said, as though he had been striving to +solve the matter during supper. "Likely they're burning the camp. We +know what they are." + +Betty took a deep breath. + +"And if they're doing that here, what about the outlying camps?" + +She knew that such an event would mean absolute ruin to Dave, and again +her terror rose. This time it was for Dave, and the feeling sickened +her. + +Her uncle put on his hat. He had no answer for her. He understood what +was in her mind. + +"Don't leave this place, Betty," he said calmly. "Redress Walford's +wound the way I showed you. Keep this door barred, and don't let any +one in. I'll be back soon." + +He was gone. And the manner of his going suggested anything but the +calmness with which he spoke. + + +Once outside, the terror he had refused to display in Betty's presence +lent wings to his feet. Night had closed in by the time he took to the +woods. Now the air was full of the burning reek, and he tried to +calculate the possibilities. He snuffed at the air to test the smell, +fearful lest it should be the forest that was burning. He could not +tell. He was too inexperienced in woodcraft to judge accurately. In +their sober senses these lumber-jacks dreaded fire as much as a sailor +dreads it at sea, then there could be little doubt as to the cause of +it now. The inevitable had happened. Drink was flowing, scorching out +the none too acute senses of these savages. Where would their orgy lead +them? Was there any limit that could hold them? He thought not. If he +were inexperienced in the woodsman's craft, he knew these woodsmen, and +he shuddered at the pictures his thoughts painted. + +As he drew nearer the camp the smoke got into his lungs. The fire must +be a big one. A sudden thought came to him, and with it his fears +receded. He wondered why it had not occurred to him before. Of course. +His eyes brightened almost to a smile. If what he suspected had +happened, perhaps it was the hand of Providence working in Dave's +interest. Working in Dave's, and---- Perhaps it was the cleansing fires +of the Almighty sent to wipe out the evil inspired by the erring mind +of man. + +He reached the fringe of woods which surrounded the clearing of the +camp, and in another few seconds he stood in the open. + +"Thank God," he exclaimed. Then, in a moment, the horror of a pitying +Christian mind shone in his eyes. His lips were tight shut, and his +hands clenched at his sides. Every muscle strung tense with the force +of his emotions. + +In the centre of the clearing the sutler's store was a blazing pile. +But it was literally in the centre, with such a distance between it and +the surrounding woods as to reduce the danger of setting fire to them +to a minimum. It was this, and the fact that it was the store where the +spirits were kept, that had inspired his heartfelt exclamation. But his +horror was for that which he saw besides. + +The running figures of the strikers about the fire were the figures of +men mad with drink. Their shoutings, their laughter, their antics told +him this. But they were not so drunk but what they had sacked the store +before setting it ablaze. Ah, he understood now, and he wondered what +had happened to the Jew trader. + +He drew nearer. He felt safe in doing so. These demented savages were +so fully occupied that they were scarcely likely to observe him. And if +they did, he doubted if he were running much personal risk. They had no +particular animosity for him. + +And as he came near, the sights he beheld sickened him. There were +several fights in progress. Not individual battles, but drunken brawls +in groups; mauling, savaging masses of men whose instinct, when roused, +it is to hurt, hurt anyhow, and if possible to kill. These men fought +as beasts fight, tearing each other with teeth and hands, gouging, +hacking, clawing. It was a merciless display of brute savagery inspired +by a bestial instinct, stirred to fever pitch by the filthy spirit +served in a lumber camp. + +At another point, well away from the burning building, the merchandise +was piled, tossed together in the reckless fashion only to be expected +in men so inspired. Around this were the more sober, helping themselves +greedily, snatching at clothing, at blankets, at the tools of their +craft. Some were loaded with tin boxes of fancy biscuits and canned +meats, others had possessed themselves of the cheap jewelry such as +traders love to dazzle the eyes of their simple customers with. Each +took as his stomach guided him, but with a gluttony for things which +can be had for nothing always to be found in people of unbridled +passions. It was a sight little less revolting than the other, for it +spoke of another form of unchecked savagery. + +Not far from this, shown in strong relief by the lurid fires, was +gathered a shouting, turbulent crowd round a pile of barrels and cases. +Three barrels were standing on end, apart from the rest, and their +heads had been removed, and round these struggled a maddened crew with +tin pannikins. They were dipping the fiery spirit out of the casks, and +draining each draught as hurriedly as the scorching stuff could pass +down their throats, so as to secure as much as possible before it was +all gone. The watching man shuddered. Truly a more terrible display was +inconceivable. The men were not human in their orgy. They were wild +beasts. What, he asked himself, what would be the result when the +liquor had saturated the brains of every one of them? It was too +terrible to contemplate. + +The roar of the blazing building, the babel of shouting, the darkly +lurid light shining amidst the shadows of surrounding woods, the +starlit heavens above, the stillness of mountain gloom and solitude; +these things created a picture so awful of contemplation as to be +unforgettable. Every detail drove into the watching man's heart as +though graven there with chisel and hammer. It was a hellish picture, +lit with hellish light, and set in the midst of gloom profound. The men +might have been demons silhouetted against the ruddy fire; their +doings, their antics, had in them so little that was human. It was +awful, and at last, in despair, the man on the outskirts of the +clearing turned and fled. Anything rather than this degrading sight; he +could bear it no longer. He sickened, yet his heart yearned for them. +There was nothing he could do to help them or check them. He could only +pray for their demented souls, and--see to the safeguarding of Betty. + + +Betty heard her uncle's voice calling, and flung down the bars of the +door. She looked into his ghastly face as he hurried in. She asked no +question, and watched him as with nervous hands he closed and secured +the door behind him. Her eyes followed his movements as he crossed to +the stove and flung himself into a chair. She saw his head droop +forward, and his hands cover his eyes in a gesture of despair. Still +she waited, her breath coming more quickly as the moments passed. + +She moved a step toward him, and slowly he raised a drawn haggard face, +and his horrified eyes looked into hers. + +"You must not leave this hut on any pretense, Betty," he said slowly. +Then he raised his eyes to the roof. "God have pity on them! They are +mad! Mad with drink, and ready for any debauchery. I could kill the +men," he went on, shaking his two clenched fists in the air, "who have +driven them----" + +"Hush, uncle!" the girl broke in, laying a restraining hand upon his +upraised arms. "One of them lies over there, and--and he is wounded. We +must do what we can to help." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT + + +It was sundown in the Red Sand Valley. The hush of evening had settled +upon Malkern, and its calm was only broken by the droning machinery of +the mills. The sky was lit by that chilly, yellow afterglow of sunset +which, eastward, merges into the gray and purple of twilight. Already +the long-drawn shadows had expanded into the dusk so rapidly obscuring +the remoter distance. Straight and solemn rose spires of smoke from +hidden chimneys, lolling in the still air, as though loath to leave the +scented atmosphere of the valley below. It was the moment of delicious +calm when Nature is preparing to seek repose. + +Two women were standing at the door of Dave's house, and the patch of +garden surrounding them, so simple, so plain, was a perfect setting for +their elderly, plainly clad figures. Dave's mother, very old, but full +of quiet energy, was listening to the gentle complaint of Mrs. +Chepstow. She was listening, but her gaze was fixed on the distant +mills, an attitude which had practically become her settled habit. The +mill, to her, was the end of the earth; there was nothing beyond. + +"I am dreadfully worried," Mrs. Tom was saying, the anxious wrinkles of +her forehead lifting her brows perplexedly. "It's more than six weeks +since I heard from Tom and Betty. It's not like him, he's so regular +with letters usually. It was madness letting Betty go up there. I can't +think what we were doing. If anything has happened to them I shall +never forgive myself. I think I shall go down and talk to Dave about +it. He may know something. He's sure to know if they are well." + +The other slowly withdrew her gaze from the mills. It was as though the +effort required to do so were a great one, and one she reluctantly +undertook. The pivot of her life was her boy. A pivot upon which it +revolved without flagging or interruption. She had watched him grow to +a magnificent manhood, and with all a pure woman's love and wonderful +instinct she had watched and tended him as she might some great oak +tree raised from the frailest sapling. Then, when his struggles came, +she had shared them with him with a supreme loyalty, helping him with a +quiet, strong sympathy which found expression in little touches which +probably even he never realized. All his successes and disasters had +been hers; all his joys, all his sorrows. And now, in her old age, she +clung to this love with the pathetic tenacity of one who realizes that +the final parting is not far distant. + +Her furrowed face lit with a wonderful smile. + +"I cannot say for sure," she said. "There are times when Dave will not +admit me to the thoughts which disturb him. At such times I know that +things are not running smoothly. There are other times when he talks +quite freely of his hopes, his fears. Then I know that all is well. +When he complains I know he is questioning his own judgment, and +distrusts himself. And when he laughs at things I know that the trouble +is a sore one, and I prepare for disaster. All his moods have meaning +for me. Just now I am reading from his silence, and it tells me that +much is wrong, and I am wondering. But I do not think it concerns +Betty--and, consequently, not your husband; if anything were wrong with +her I think I should know." She smiled with all the wisdom of old age. + +Mrs. Tom's anxiety was slightly allayed, but her curiosity was +proportionately roused. + +"Why would you know--about Betty?" she asked. + +The older woman's eyes were again turned in the direction of the mill. + +"Why--why?" She smiled and turned to the churchman's wife. "It would +produce a fresh mood in my boy, one I'm not familiar with." Then she +became suddenly grave. "I think I should dread that mood more than any +other. You see, deep down in his heart there are passionate depths that +no one has yet stirred. Were they let loose I fear to think how they +might drive him. Dave's head only rules just as far as his heart +chooses." + +"But Betty?" demanded Mrs. Tom. "How is she----" + +"Betty?" interrupted the other, humorously eyeing the eager face. "The +one great passion of Dave's life is Betty. I know. And he thinks it is +hopeless. I am betraying no confidence. Dave hugs his secret to +himself, but he can't hide it from me. I'm glad he loves her. You don't +know how glad. You see, I am in love with her myself, and--and I am +getting very old." + +"And--does Betty know?" + +Dave's mother shook her head and smiled. + +"Betty loves him, but neither understands the other's feelings. But +that is nothing. Love belongs to Heaven, and Heaven will straighten +this out. Listen!" + +The old woman's eyes turned abruptly in the direction of the mill. +There was a curious, anxious look in them, and a perplexed frown drew +her brows together. One hand was raised to hold the other woman's +attention. It was as though something vital had shocked her, as though +some sudden spasm of physical pain had seized her. Her face slowly grew +gray. + +Three people passing along the trail in front of the house had also +stopped. Their eyes were also turned in the direction of the mill. +Further along a child at play had suddenly paused in its game to turn +toward the mill. There were others, too, all over the village who gave +up their pursuits to listen. + +"The mills have stopped work!" cried Mrs. Torn breathlessly. + +But Dave's mother had no response for her. She had even forgotten the +other's presence at her side. The drone of the machinery was silent. + + +Dawson was interviewing his employer in the latter's office. Both men +looked desperately worried. Dave's eyes were lit with a brooding light. +It was as though a cloud of storm had settled upon his rugged features. +Dawson had desperation in every line of his hard face. + +"Have you sent up the river?" demanded Dave, eyeing his head man as +though he alone were responsible for the trouble which was upon them. + +"I've sent, boss. We've had jams on the river before, an' I guessed it +was that. I didn't worrit any for four-an'-twenty hours. It's different +now. Ther' ain't bin a log come down for nigh thirty-six hours." + +"How many men did you send up?" + +"Six. Two teams, an' all the gear needed for breakin' the jam." + +"Yes. You're sure it is a jam?" + +"Ther' ain't nothin' else, boss. Leastways, I can't see nothin' else." + +"No. And the boom? You've worked out the 'reserve'?" + +"Clean right out. Ther' ain't a log in it fit to cut." + +Dave sat down at his desk. He idled clumsily for some moments with the +pen in his fingers. His eyes were staring blankly out of the grimy +window. The din of the saws rose and fell, and the music for once +struck bitterly into his soul. It jarred his nerves, and he stirred +restlessly. What was this new trouble that had come upon him? No logs! +No logs! Why? He could not understand. A jam? Dawson said it must be a +jam on the river. He was a practical lumberman, and to him it was the +only explanation. He had sent up men to find out and free it. But why +should there be a jam? The river was wide and swift, and the logs were +never sent down in such crowds as to make a thing of that nature +possible at this time of year. Later, yes, when the water was low and +the stream slack, but now, after the recent rains, it was still a +torrent. No logs! The thought was always his nightmare, and now--it was +a reality. + +"It must be a jam, I s'pose," said Dave presently, but his tone carried +no conviction. + +"What else can it be, boss?" asked the foreman anxiously. + +His employer's manner, his tone of uncertainty, worried Dawson. He had +never seen Dave like this before. + +"That's so." + +Then a look of eager interest came into his eyes. He pointed at the +window. + +"Here's Odd," he said. "And he's in a hurry." + +Dawson threw open the door, and Simon Odd lumbered hurriedly into the +room. He seemed to fill up the place with his vast proportions. His +face was anxious and doubtful. + +"I've had to shut down at the other mill, boss," he explained abruptly. +"Ther' ain't no logs. Ther've been none for----" + +"Thirty-six hours," broke in Dave, with an impatient nod. "I know." + +"You know, boss?" + +"Yes." + +The master of the mills turned again to the window, and the two men +watched him in silence. What would he do? This man to whom they looked +in difficulty; this man who had never yet failed in resource, in +courage, to meet and overcome every obstacle, every emergency that +harassed a lumberman's life. + +Suddenly he turned to them again. In his eyes there was a peculiar, +angry light. + +"Well?" he demanded, in a fierce way that was utterly foreign to him. +"Well?" he reiterated, "what are you standing there for? Get you out, +both of you. Shut this mill down, too!" + +Simon Odd moved to the door, but Dawson remained where he was. It +almost seemed as if he had not understood. The mill was to be shut down +for the first time within his knowledge. What did it mean? In all his +years of association with Dave he had seen such wonders of lumbering +done by him that he looked upon him as almost infallible. And now--now +he was tacitly acknowledging defeat without making a single effort. The +realization, the shock of it, held him still. He made no move to obey +the roughly-spoken command. + +Suddenly Dave turned on him. His face was flushed. + +"Get out!" he roared. "Shut down the mill!" + +It was the cry of a man driven to a momentary frenzy. For the time +despair--black, terrible despair--drove the lumberman. He felt he +wanted to hit out and hurt some one. + +Dawson silently followed Odd to the door, and in five minutes the saws +were still. + +Dave sat on at his desk waiting. The moment the shriek of the machinery +ceased he sprang to his feet and began pacing the floor in nervous, +hurried strides. What that cessation meant to him only those may know +who have suddenly seen their life's ambitions, their hopes, crushed out +at one single blow. Let the saws continue their song, let the droning +machinery but keep its dead level of tone, and failure in any other +form, however disastrous, could not hurt in such degree as the sudden +silencing of his lumberman's world. + +For some minutes he was like a madman. He could not think, his nerves +shivered from his feet to the crown of his great ugly head. His hands +were clenched as he strode, until the nails of his fingers cut the +flesh of the palms into which they were crushed. For some minutes he +saw nothing but the black ruin that rose like a wall before him and +shut out every thought from his mind. The cessation of machinery was +like a pall suddenly burying his whole strength and manhood beneath its +paralyzing weight. + +But gradually the awful tension eased. It could not hold and its victim +remain sane. So narrow was his focus during those first passionate +moments that he could not see beyond his own personal loss. But with +the passing minutes his view widened, and into the picture grew those +things which had always been the inspiration of his ambitions. He flung +himself heavily into his chair, and his eyes stared through the dirty +window at the silent mill beyond. And for an hour he sat thus, +thinking, thinking. His nervous tension had passed, his mind became +clear, and though the nature of his thoughts lashed his heart, and a +hundred times drove him to the verge of that first passion of despair +again, there was an impersonal note in them which allowed the use of +his usually clear reasoning, and so helped him to rise above himself +once more. + +His castles had been set a-tumbling, and he saw in their fall the +crushing of Malkern, the village which was almost as a child to him. +And with the crushing of the village must come disaster to all his +friends. For one weak moment he felt that this responsibility should +not be his--it was not fair to fix it on him. What had he done to +deserve so hard a treatment? He thought of Tom Chepstow, loyal, kindly, +always caring and thinking for those who needed his help. He thought of +the traders of the village who hoped and prayed for his success, that +meant prosperity for themselves and happiness for their wives and +children. And these things began to rekindle the fighting flame within +him; the flame which hitherto had always burned so fiercely. He could +not let them go under. + +Then with a rush a picture rose before his mind, flooding it, shutting +out all those others, every thought of self or anybody else. It was +Betty, with her gentle face, her soft brown hair and tender smiling +eyes. Their steady courageous light shone deep down into his heart, and +seemed to smite him for his weakness. His pulses began to throb, the +weakened tide of his blood was sent coursing through his veins and +mounted, mounted steadily to his brain. God! He must not go under. Even +now the loyal child was up in the hills fighting his battles for him +with---- + +He broke off, and sprang to his feet. A terrible fear had suddenly +leapt at his heart and clutched him. Betty was up there in the hills. +He had not heard from the hill camps for weeks. And now the supply of +logs had ceased. What had happened? What was happening up there? + +The lethargy of despair lifted like a cloud. He was alert, thrilling +with all the virility of his manhood set pulsing through his veins. +Once more he was the man Dawson had failed to recognize when he ordered +the mills to be closed down. Once more he was the man whose personal +force had lifted him to his position as the master of Malkern mills. He +was the Dave whom all the people of the village knew, ready to fight to +the last ounce of his power, to the last drop of his blood. + +"They shan't beat us!" he muttered, as he strode out into the yard. Nor +could he have said of whom he was speaking, if anybody at all. + + +It was nearly midnight. Again Dawson and Simon Odd were in their +employer's office. But this time a very different note prevailed. +Dawson's hard face was full of keen interest. His eyes were eager. He +was listening to the great man he had always known. Simon Odd, burly +and unassuming, was waiting his turn when his chief had finished with +his principal foreman. + +"I've thought this thing out, Dawson," Dave said pleasantly, in a tone +calculated to inspire the other with confidence, and in a manner +suggesting that the affair of the logs had not seriously alarmed him, +"and evolved a fresh plan of action. No doubt, as you say, the thing's +simply a jam on the river. If this is so, it will be freed in a short +time, and we can go ahead. On the other hand, there may be some other +reason for the trouble. I can't think of any explanation myself, but +that is neither here nor there. Now I intend going up the river +to-night. Maybe I shall go on to the camps. I shall be entirely guided +by circumstances. Anyway I shall likely be away some days. Whatever is +wrong, I intend to see it straight. In the meantime you will stand +ready to begin work the moment the logs come down. And when they come +down I intend they shall come down at a pace that shall make up for all +the time we have lost. That's all I have for you. I simply say, be +ready. Good-night." + +The man went out with a grin of satisfaction on his weather-beaten +face. This was the Dave he knew, and he was glad. + +Simon Odd received his orders. He too must be ready. He must have his +men ready. His mill must be asked to do more than ever before when the +time came, and on his results would depend a comfortable bonus the size +of which quite dazzled the simple giant. + +With his departure Dave began his own preparations. There was much to +see to in leaving everything straight for his foremen. Dawson was more +than willing. This new responsibility appealed to him as no other +confidence his employer could have reposed in him. They spent some time +together, and finally Dave returned to his office. + +During the evening inquirers from the village flooded the place. But no +official information on the subject of the cessation of work was +forthcoming, nor would Dave see any of them. They were driven to be +content with gleanings of news from the mill hands, and these, with the +simple lumberman's understanding of such things, explained that there +was a jam on the river which might take a day, or even two days, to +free. In this way a panic in the village was averted. + +Dave required provisions from home. But he could not spare the time to +return there for them. He intended to set out on his journey at +midnight. Besides, he had no wish to alarm his old mother. And somehow +he was afraid she would drag the whole truth of his fears out of him. +So he sent a note by one of the men setting out his requirements. + +His answer came promptly. The man returned with the kit bag only, and +word that his mother was bringing the food down herself, and he smiled +at the futility of his attempt to put her off. + +Ten minutes later she entered his office with her burden of provisions. +Her face was calmly smiling. There was no trace of anxiety in it. So +carefully was the latter suppressed that the effort it entailed became +apparent to the man. + +"You shouldn't have bothered, ma," he protested. "I sent the man up +specially to bring those things down." + +His mother's eyes had a shrewd look in them. + +"I know," she said. "There's a ham and some bacon, biscuit, and a fresh +roast of beef here. Then I've put in a good supply of groceries." + +"Thanks, dear," he said gently. "You always take care of my inner man. +But I wish you hadn't bothered this way." + +"It's no sort of trouble," she said, raising her eyes to his. Then she +let them drop again. "Food don't need a lumberman's rough handling." + +The smile on Dave's face was good to see. He nodded. + +"I'd better tell you," he said. "You know, we've--stopped?" + +His eyes lingered fondly on the aged figure. This woman was very +precious to him. + +"Yes, I know." There was the very slightest flash of anxiety in the old +eyes. Then it was gone. + +"I'm going up the river to find things out." + +"That's what I understood. Betty is up there--too." + +The quiet assurance of his mother's remark brought a fresh light into +the man's eyes, and the blood surged to his cheeks. + +"Yes, ma. That's it--chiefly." + +"I thought so. And--I'm glad. You'll bring her back with you?" + +"Yes, ma." + +"Good-bye, boy." His simple assurance satisfied her. Her faith in him +was the faith of a mother. + +The man bent down and kissed the withered, upturned face. + +She went out, and Dave turned to the things she had brought him. She +had thought of everything. And the food--he smiled. She was his mother, +and the food had the amplitude such as is characteristic of a mother +when providing for a beloved son. + +He must visit the barn to see about his horses. He went to the door. +Opening it, he paused. Standing there he became aware of the sound of +approaching wheels. The absence of any noise from the mills had made +the night intensely silent, so that the rattle of wheels upon the hard +sand trail, though distant, sounded acutely on the night air. He stood +listening, with one great hand grasping the door casing. Yes, they were +wheels. And now, too, he could hear the sharp pattering of horses' +hoofs. The sound was uneven, yet regular, and he recognized the gait. +They were approaching at a gallop. Nearer they came, and of a sudden he +understood they were practically racing for the mill. + +He left the doorway and moved out into the yard. He thought it might be +the team which Dawson had sent out returning, and perhaps bringing good +news of the jam on the river. He walked toward the yard gates and stood +listening intently. The night was dark, but clear and still, and as he +listened he fancied in the rattle of the vehicle he recognized the +peculiar creak of a buckboard. + +Nearer and nearer it came, louder and louder the clatter of hoofs and +the rattle of wheels. The gallop seemed labored, like the clumsy gait +of weary horses, and the waiting man straining could plainly hear a +voice urging them on. + +Suddenly he thought of the gates, and promptly opened them. He hardly +knew why he did so. It must have been the effect of the pace at which +the horses were being driven. It must have been that the speed inspired +him with an idea of emergency. Now he stood out in the road, and +stooping, glanced along it till the faint light of the horizon revealed +a dark object on the trail. He drew back and slowly returned to the +office. + +The man's voice urging his horses on required no effort to hear now. It +was hoarse with shouting, and the slashing of his whip told the waiting +man of the pace at which he had traveled. The vehicle entered the yard +gates. The urging voice became silent, the weary horses clattered up to +the office door and came to a standstill. + +From the doorway Dave surveyed the outfit. He did not recognize it, but +something about the man climbing out of the vehicle was familiar. + +"That you, Mason?" he asked sharply. + +"Yes--and another. Will you bear a hand to get him out?" + +Dave went to his assistance, wondering. Mason was busy undoing some +ropes. Dave's wonder increased. As he came up he saw that the ropes +held a man captive in the carryall. + +"Who is it?" he inquired. + +"Jim Truscott--whoever he may be," responded Mason with a laugh, as he +freed the last rope. + +"Ah! Well, come right in--and bring him along too." + +But Mason remembered the animals that had served him so well. + +"What about the 'plugs'?" He was holding his captive, who stood silent +at his side. + +"You go inside. I'll see to them." + +Dave watched Mason conduct his prisoner into the office, then he sprang +into the buckboard and drove it across to the barn. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +MASON'S PRISONER + + +In a few minutes Dave returned from the barn. He had chosen to attend +to the horses himself, for his own reasons preferring not to rouse the +man who looked after his horses. + +His thoughts were busy while he was thus occupied. As yet he had no +idea of what had actually occurred in the camps, but Mason's presence +at such a time, the identity of his prisoner, the horses' condition of +exhaustion; these things warned him of the gravity of the situation, +and something of the possibilities. By the time he reentered the office +he was prepared for anything his "camp-boss" might have to tell him. + +He noted the faces of the two men carefully. In Mason he saw the +weariness of a long nervous strain. His broad face was drawn, his eyes +were sunken and deeply shadowed. From head to foot he was powdered with +the red dust of the trail. Dave was accustomed to being well served, +but he felt that this man had been serving him to something very near +the limits of his endurance. Jim Truscott's face afforded him the +keenest interest. It was healthier looking than he had seen it since +his first return to Malkern. The bloated puffiness, the hall-mark of +his persistent debauches, had almost entirely gone. The health produced +by open-air and spare feeding showed in the tan of his skin. His eyes +were clear, and though he, too, looked worn out, there was less of +exhaustion about him than his captor. On the other hand there was none +of Mason's fearless honesty in his expression. There was a truculent +defiance in his eyes, a furious scowl in the drawn brows. There was a +nervousness in the loose, weak mouth. His wrists were lashed securely +together by a rope which had been applied with scant mercy. Dave's eyes +took all these things in, and he pointed to the latter as he addressed +himself to his overseer. + +"Better loose that," he said, in that even voice which gave away so +little of his real feelings. "Guess you're both pretty near done in," +he went on, as Mason unfastened the knots. "Got down here in a hurry?" + +"Yes; got any whiskey?" + +Mason had finished removing the prisoner's bonds when he spoke. + +"Brandy." + +"That'll do." + +The overseer laughed as men will laugh when they are least inclined to. +Dave poured out long drinks and handed them to the two men. Mason drank +his down at a gulp, but Truscott pushed his aside without a word. + +"There's a deal to tell," said the overseer, as he set his glass down. + +"There's some hours to daylight," Dave replied. "Go right ahead, and +take your own time." + +The other let his tired eyes rest on his prisoner for some moments and +remained silent. He was considering how best to tell his story. +Suddenly he looked up. + +"The camp's on 'strike,'" he said. + +"Ah!" And it was Dave's eyes that fell upon Jim Truscott now. + +There was a world of significance in that ejaculation and the +expression that leapt to the lumberman's eyes. It was a desperate blow +the overseer had dealt him; but it was a blow that did not crush. It +carried with it a complete explanation. And that explanation was of +something he understood and had power to deal with. + +"And--this?" Dave nodded in Jim's direction. + +"Is one of the leaders." + +"Ah!" + +Again came Dave's meaning ejaculation. Then he settled himself in his +chair and prepared to listen. + +"Get going," he said; but he felt that he required little more +explanation. + +Mason began his story by inquiries about his own letters to his +employer, and learned that none of them had been received during the +last few weeks, and he gave a similar reply to Dave's inquiries as to +the fate of his letters to the camp. Then he went on to the particulars +of the strike movement, from the first appearance of unrest to the +final moment when it became an accomplished fact. He told him how the +chance "hands" he had been forced to take on had been the disturbing +element, and these, he was now convinced, had for some reason been +inspired. He told of that visit on the Sunday night to the sutler's +store, he told of his narrow escape, and of his shooting down one of +the men, and the fortunate capture, made with the timely assistance of +Tom Chepstow, of his prisoner. Dave listened attentively, but his eyes +were always on Truscott, and at the finish of the long story his +commendation was less hearty than one might have expected. + +"You've made good, Mason, an' I'm obliged," he said, after a prolonged +silence. "Say," he went on, glancing at his watch, "there's just four +and a half hours to the time we start back for the camp. Go over to +Dawson's shack and get a shake-down. Get what sleep you can. I'll call +you in time. Meanwhile I'll see to this fellow," he added, indicating +the prisoner. "We'll have a heap of time for talk on the way to the +camps." + +The overseer's eyes lit. + +"Are you going up to the camps?" he inquired eagerly. + +"Yes, surely. We'll have to straighten this out." Then a sudden thought +flashed through his mind. "There's the parson and----!" + +Mason nodded. + +"Yes. They've got my shack. There's plenty of arms and ammunition. I +left parson to hurry back to----" + +"He wasn't with her when you left?" + +There was a sudden, fierce light in Dave's eyes. Mason shook his head, +and something of the other's apprehension was in his voice as he +replied-- + +"He was going back there." + +Dave's eyes were fiercely riveted upon Truscott's face. + +"We'll start earlier. Get an hour's sleep." + +There was no misunderstanding his employer's tone. In fact, for the +first time since he had left the camp Mason realized the full danger of +those two he had left behind him. But he knew he had done the only +possible thing in the circumstances, and besides, his presence there +would have added to their danger. Still, as he left the office to seek +the brief rest for which he was longing, he was not without a qualm of +conscience which his honest judgment told him he was not entitled to. + +Dave closed the door carefully behind him. Then he came back to his +chair, and for some moments surveyed his prisoner in silence. Truscott +stirred uneasily under the cold regard. Then he looked up, and all his +bitter hatred for his one-time friend shone in the defiant stare he +gave him. + +"I've tried to understand, but I can't," Dave said at last, as though +his words were the result of long speculation. "It is so far beyond me +that---- This is your doing, all your doing. It's nothing to do with +those--those 'scabs.' You, and you alone have brought about this +strike. First you pay a man to wreck my mills--you even try to kill me. +Now you do this. You have thought it all out with devilish cunning. +There is nothing that could ruin me so surely as this strike. You mean +to wreck me; nor do you care who goes down in the crash. You have +already slain one man in your villainy. For that you stand branded +a--murderer. God alone knows what death and destruction this strike in +the hills may bring about. And all of it is aimed at me. Why? In God's +name, why?" + +Dave's manner was that of cold argument. He displayed none of the +passion that really stirred him. He longed to take this man in his two +great hands, and crush the mean life out of him. But nothing of such +feeling was allowed to show itself. He began to fill his pipe. He did +not want to smoke, but it gave his hands something to do, and just then +his hands demanded something to do. + +His words elicited no reply. Truscott's eyes were upon the hands +fumbling at the bowl of the pipe. He was not really observing them. He +was wrapped in his own thoughts, and his eyes simply fixed themselves +on the only moving thing in the room. Dave put his pipe in his mouth +and refolded his pouch. Presently he went on speaking, and his tone +became warmer, and his words more rapid. + +"There was a time when you were a man, a decent, honest, happy man; a +youngster with all the world before you. At that time I did all in my +power to help you. You remember? You ran that mill. It was a matter of +hanging on and waiting till fortune turned your way for success and +prosperity to come. Then one day you came to me; you and she. It was +decided that you should go away--to seek your fortune elsewhere. We +shook hands. Do you remember? You left her in my care. All this seems +like yesterday. I promised you then that always, in the name of +friendship, you could command me. Your trust I carried out to the +letter, and all I promised I was ready to fulfil. Need I remind you of +what has happened since? Need I draw a picture of the drunkard, gambler +who returned to Malkern, of the insults you have put upon her, +everybody? Of her patience and loyalty? Of the manner in which you +finally made it impossible for her to marry you? It is not necessary. +You know it all--if you are a sane man, which I am beginning to doubt. +And now--now why are you doing all this? I intend to know. I mean to +drag it out of you before you leave this room!" + +He had risen from his seat and stood before his captive with one hand +outstretched in his direction, grasping his pipe by the bowl. His +calmness had gone, a passion of angry protest surged through his veins. +He was no longer the cool, clear-headed master of the mills, but a man +swept by a fury of resentment at the injustice, the wanton, devilish, +mischievous injustice of one whom he had always befriended. Friendship +was gone and in its place there burned the human desire for retaliation. + +Truscott's introspective stare changed to a wicked laugh. It was +forced, and had for its object the intention of goading the other. Dave +calmed immediately. He understood that laugh in time, and so it failed +in its purpose and died out. In its place the man's face darkened. It +was he who fell a victim to his own intention. All his hatred for his +one-time friend rose within him suddenly, and swept him on its burning +tide. + +"You stand there preaching! You!" he cried with a ferocity so sudden +that it became appalling. "You dare to preach to me of honesty, of +friendship, of promises fulfilled? You? God, it makes me boil to hear +you! If ever there was a traitor to friendship in this world it is you. +I came back to marry Betty. Why else should I come back? And I +find--what? She is changed. You have seen to that. For a time she kept +up the pretense of our engagement. Then she seized upon the first +excuse to break it. Why? For you! Oh, your trust was well fulfilled. +You lost no time in my absence. Who was it I found her with on my +return? You! Who was present to give her courage and support when she +refused to marry me? You! Do you think I haven't seen the way it has +all been worked? You have secured her uncle's and aunt's support. You! +You have taken her from me! You! And you preach friendship and honesty +to me. God, but you're a liar and a thief!" + +For a moment the lumberman's fury leapt and in another he would have +crushed the man's life out of him, but, in a flash, his whole mood +changed. The accusations were so absurd even from his own point of +view. Could it be? For a moment he believed that the loss of Betty had +unhinged Truscott's mind. But the thought passed, and he grew as calm +now as a moment before he had been furious, and an icy sternness +chilled him through and through. There was no longer a vestige of pity +in him for his accuser. He sat down and lit his pipe, his heavy face +set with the iron that had entered his soul. + +"You have lied to yourself until you have come to believe it," he said +sternly. "You have lied because it is your nature to lie, because you +have not an honest thought in your mind. I'll not answer your +accusations, because they are so hopelessly absurd; but I'll tell you +what I intend to do." + +"You won't answer them because you cannot deny them!" Truscott broke in +furiously. "They are true, and you know it. You have stolen her from +me. You! Oh, God, I hate you!" + +His voice rose to a strident shout and Dave raised a warning hand. + +"Keep quiet!" he commanded coldly. "I have listened to you, and now you +shall listen to me." + +The fire in the other's eyes still shone luridly, but he became silent +under the coldly compelling manner, while, like a savage beast, he +crouched in his chair ready to break out into passionate protest at the +least chance. + +"I don't know yet how far things have gone in the way you wish them to +go up there in the hills, but you have found the way to accomplish your +end in ruining me. If the strike continues I tell you frankly you will +have done what you set out to do. My resources are taxed now to the +limit. That will rejoice you." + +Truscott grinned savagely as he sprang in with his retort. + +"The strike is thoroughly established, and there are those up there +who'll see it through. Yes, yes, my friend, it is my doing; all my +doing, and it cannot fail me now. The money I took from you for the +mill I laid out well. I laid out more than that--practically all I had +in the world. Oh, I spared nothing; I had no intention of failing. I +would give even my life to ruin you!" + +"Don't be too sure you may not yet have to pay that price," Dave said +grimly. + +"Willingly." + +Truscott's whole manner carried conviction. Dave read in the sudden +clipping of his teeth, the deadly light of his eyes, the clenching of +his hands that he meant it. + +"I'll ruin you even if I die for it, but I'll see you ruined first," +cried Truscott. + +"You have miscalculated one thing, Truscott," Dave said slowly. "You +have forgotten that you are in my power and a captive. However, we'll +let that go for the moment. I promise you you shall never live to see +me suffer in the way you hope. You shall not even be aware of it. I +care nothing for the ruin you hope for, so far as I am personally +concerned, but I do care for other reasons. In dragging me down you +will drag Malkern down, too. You will ruin many others. You will even +involve Betty in the crash, for she, like the rest of us, is bound up +in Malkern. And in this you will hurt me--hurt me as in your wildest +dreams you never expected to do." Then he leant forward in his seat, +and a subtle, deliberate intensity, more deadly for the very frigidity +of his tone was in his whole attitude. His hands were outstretched +toward his captive, his fingers were extended and bent at the joints +like talons ready to clutch and rend their prey. "Now, I tell you +this," he went on, "as surely as harm comes to Betty up in that camp, +through any doings of yours, as surely as ruin through your agency +descends upon this valley, as Almighty God is my Judge I will tear the +life out of you with my own two hands." + +For a moment Truscott's eyes supported the frigid glare of Dave's. For +a moment he had it in his mind to fling defiance at him. Then his eyes +shifted and he looked away, and defiance died out of his mind. The +stronger nature shook the weaker, and an involuntary shudder of +apprehension slowly crept over him. Dave stirred to the pitch of +threatening deliberate slaughter had been beyond his imagination. Now +that he saw it the sight was not pleasant. + +Suddenly the lumberman sprang to his feet + +"We'll start right away," he said, in his usual voice. + +"We?" The monosyllabic question sprang from Truscott's lips in a sudden +access of fear. + +"Yes. We. Mason, you, and me." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +TO THE LUMBER CAMP + + +The gray morning mist rolled slowly up the hillsides from the bosom of +the warming valley below. Great billows mounted, swelling in volume +till, overweighted, they toppled, surging like the breaking rollers of +a wind-swept ocean. Here and there the rosy sunlight brushed the +swirling sea with a tenderness of color no painter's brush could ever +hope to produce. A precocious sunbeam shot athwart the leaden prospect. +It bored its way through the churning fog searching the depths of some +benighted wood-lined hollow, as though to rouse its slumbering world. + +Dense spruce and hemlock forests grew out of the mists. The spires of +gigantic pines rose, piercing the gray as though gasping for the +warming radiance above. A perching eagle, newly roused from its +slumbers, shrieked its morning song till the rebounding cries, echoing +from a thousand directions, suggested the reveille of the entire +feathered world. The mournful whistle of a solitary marmot swelled the +song from many new directions, and the raucous chorus had for its +accompaniment the thundering chords of hidden waters, seething and +boiling in the mighty canyons below. + +The long-drawn, sibilant hush of night was gone; the leaden mountain +dawn had passed; day, glorious in its waking splendor, had routed the +grim shadows from the mystic depths of canyon, from the leaden-hued +forest-laden valleys. The sunlight was upon the dazzling mountain-tops, +groping, searching the very heart of the Rocky Mountains. + +Dave's buckboard, no more conspicuous than some wandering ant in the +vast mountain world, crawled from the depths of a wide valley and +slowly mounted the shoulders of a forest-clad ridge. It vanished into +the twilight of giant woods, only to be seen again, some hours later, +at a greater altitude, climbing, climbing the great slopes, or +descending to gaping hollows, but always attaining the higher lands. + +But his speed was by no means a crawl in reality, only did it appear so +by reason of the vastness of the world about him. His horses were +traveling as fresh, mettlesome beasts can travel when urged by such a +man as Dave, with his nerves strung to a terrific tension by the +emergency of his journey. The willing beasts raced down the hills over +the uneven trail with all the sure-footed carelessness of the +prairie-bred broncho. They took the inclines with scarcely perceptible +slackening of their gait. And only the sharp hills served them for +breathing space. + +Dave occupied the driving-seat while Mason sat guard over Jim Truscott +in the carryall behind. Those two days on the trail had been unusually +silent, even for men such as they were, and even taking into +consideration the object of their journey. Truscott and Mason were +almost "dead beat" with all that had gone before, and Dave--he was +wrapped in his own thoughts. + +His thoughts carried him far away from his companions into a world +where love and strife were curiously blended. Every thread of such +thought sent him blundering into mires of trouble, the possibilities of +which set his nerves jangling with apprehension. But their +contemplation only stiffened his stern resolve to fight the coming +battle with a courage and resource such as never yet had he brought to +bear in his bid for success. He knew that before him lay the +culminating battle of his long and ardent sieging of Fortune's +stronghold. He knew that now, at last, he was face to face with the +great test of his fitness. He knew that this battle had always been +bound to come before the goal of his success was reached; although, +perhaps, its method and its cause may have taken a thousand other +forms. It is not in the nature of things that a man may march untested +straight to the golden pastures of his ambitions. He must fight every +foot of his way, and the final battle must ever be the sternest, the +crudest. God help the man if he has not the fitness, for Fate and +Fortune are remorseless foes. + +But besides his native courage, Dave was stirred to even greater +efforts by man's strongest motive, be his cause for good or evil. Love +was the main-spring of his inspiration. He had desired success with a +passionate longing all his life, and his success was not all +selfishness. But now, before all things, he saw the sweetly gentle face +of Betty Somers gazing with a heartful appeal, beckoning him, calling +him to help her. Every moment of that long journey the vision remained +with him; every moment he felt might be the moment of dire tragedy for +her. He dared not trust himself to consider the nature of that tragedy, +or he must have turned and rended the man who was its cause. Only he +blessed each moment that passed, bringing him nearer to her side. He +loved her as he loved nothing and no one else on earth, and somehow +there had crept into his mind the thought of a possibility he had never +yet dared to consider. It was a vague ray of hope that the +impossibility of his love was not so great as he had always believed. + +How it had stolen in upon him he hardly knew. Perhaps it was his +mother's persistent references to Betty. Perhaps it was the result of +his talk with the man who had brought her to the straits she was now +placed in. Perhaps it was one of these things, or both, coupled with +the memory of trifling incidents in the past, which had seemed to mean +nothing at the time of their happening. + +Whatever it was, his love for the girl swept through him now in a way +that drove him headlong to her rescue. His own affairs of the mills, +the fate of his friends in Malkern, of the village itself; all these +things were driven into the background of his thoughts. Betty needed +him. The thought set his brain whirling with a wild thrilling +happiness, mazed, every alternate moment, with a horrible fear that +drove him to the depths of despair. + +It was high noon when smoke ahead warned him that the journey was +nearly over. The buckboard was on the ridge shouldering a wide valley, +and below it was the rushing torrent of the Red Sand River. From his +position Dave had a full view of the dull green forest world rolling +away, east and west, in vast, undulating waves as far as the eye could +reach. Only to the south, beyond the valley, was there a break in the +dense, verdant carpet. And here it was he beheld the telltale smoke of +the lumber camp. + +"That's the camp," he said, looking straight ahead, watching the slowly +rising haze with longing eyes. "Guess we haven't to cross the river. +Good." + +Mason was looking out over his shoulder. + +"No," he said after a moment's pause, while he tried to read the signs +he beheld. "We don't cross the river. Keep to the trail. It takes us +right past my shack." + +"Where Parson Tom and----?" + +"Yes, where they're living." + +In another quarter of a mile they would be descending the hollow of a +small valley diverging from the valley of the Red Sand River. As they +drew near the decline, Dave spoke again. + +"Can you make anything out, Mason?" he asked. "Seems to me that smoke +is thick for--for stovepipes. There's two lots; one of 'em nearer this +way." + +Mason stared out for some moments, shielding his eyes from the dazzling +sun. + +"I can't be sure," he said at last. "The nearest smoke should be my +shack." + +A grave anxiety crept into Dave's eyes. + +"It isn't thick there," he said, as though trying to reassure himself. +"That's your stovepipe?" + +"Maybe." + +Mason's reply expressed doubt. + +Suddenly Dave leant over and his whip fell sharply across the horses' +backs. They sprang at their neck-yoke and raced down into the final dip. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +AT BAY + + +In the dugout Tom Chepstow was standing with his ear pressed against +the door-jamb. He was listening, straining with every nerve alert to +glean the least indication of what was going on outside. His face was +pale and drawn, and his eyes shone with anxiety. He was gripped by a +fear he had never known before, a fear that might well come to the +bravest. Personal, physical danger he understood, it was almost +pleasant to him, something that gave life a new interest. But +this--this was different, this was horrible. + +Betty was standing just behind him. She was leaning forward craning +intently. Her hands were clenched at her sides, and a similar dread was +looking out of her soft eyes. Her face was pale with a marble coldness, +her rich red lips were compressed to a fine line, her whole body was +tense with the fear that lay behind her straining eyes. There was +desperation in the poise of her body, the desperation of a brave woman +who sees the last hope vanishing, swallowed up in a tide of disaster +she is powerless to stem. + +For nearly a week these two had been penned up in the hut. But for the +last thirty-six hours their stronghold had actually been in a state of +siege. From the time of her uncle's realization of the conditions +obtaining outside Betty had not ventured without the building, while +the man himself had been forced to use the utmost caution in moving +abroad. It had been absolutely necessary for him to make several +expeditions, otherwise he, too, would have remained in their fortress. +They required water and fire-wood, and these things had to be procured. +Then, too, there were the sick. + +But on the third day the climax was reached. Returning from one of his +expeditions Chepstow encountered a drunken gang of lumber-jacks. Under +the influence of their recent orgy their spirit-soaked brains had +conceived the pretty idea of "ilin' the passon's works"; in other +words, forcing drink upon him, and making him as drunk as themselves. +In their present condition the joke appealed to them, and it was not +without a violent struggle that their intended victim escaped. + +He was carrying fire-wood at the time, and it served him well as a +weapon of defense. In a few brief moments he had left one man stunned +upon the ground and another with a horribly broken face, and was +himself racing for the dugout. He easily outstripped his drunken +pursuers, but he was quickly to learn how high a price he must pay for +the temporary victory. He had brought a veritable hornets' nest about +his ears. + +The mischief began. The attack upon himself had only been a drunken +practical joke. The subsequent happenings were in deadly earnest. The +mob came in a blaze of savage fury. Their first thought was for +vengeance upon him. In all probability, up to that time, Betty's +presence in the hut had been forgotten, but now, as they came to the +dugout, they remembered. In their present condition it was but a short +step from a desire to revenge themselves upon him, to the suggestion of +how it could be accomplished through the girl. They remembered her +pretty face, her delicious woman's figure, and instantly they became +ravening brutes, fired with a mad desire to possess themselves of her. + +They were no longer strikers, they were not even men. The spirit taken +from the burning store had done its work. A howling pack of demons had +been turned loose upon the camp, ready for any fiendish prank, ready +for slaughter, ready for anything. These untutored creatures knew no +better, they were powerless to help themselves, their passions alone +guided them at all times, and now all that was most evil in them was +frothing to the surface. Sober, they were as tame as caged wolves kept +under by the bludgeon of a stern discipline. Drunk, they were madmen, +driven by the untamed passions of the brute creation. They were animals +without the restraining instincts of the animal, they lusted for the +exercise of their great muscles, and the vital forces which swept +through their veins in a passionate torrent. + +Their first effort was a demand for the surrender of those in the hut, +and they were coldly refused. They attempted a parley, and received no +encouragement. Now they were determined upon capture, with loudly +shouted threats of dire consequences for the defenders' obstinacy. + +It was close upon noon of the second day of the siege. The hut was +barricaded at every point. Door and windows were blocked up with every +available piece of furniture that could be spared, and the +repeating-rifles were loaded ready, and both uncle and niece were armed +with revolvers. They were defending more than life and liberty, and +they knew it. They were defending all that is most sacred in a woman's +life. It was a ghastly thought, a desperate thought, but a thought that +roused in them both a conviction that any defense brain could conceive +was justified. If necessary not even life itself should stand in the +way of their defense. + +The yellow lamplight threw gloomy shadows about the barricaded room. +Its depressing light added to the sinister aspect of their extremity. +The silence was ominous, it was fraught with a portend of disaster; +disaster worse than death. How could they hope to withstand the attack +of the men outside? They were waiting, waiting for what was to happen. +Every conceivable method had been adopted by the besiegers to dislodge +their intended victims. They had tried to tear the roof off, but the +heavy logs were well dovetailed, and the process would have taken too +long, and exposed those attempting it to the fire of the rifles in the +capable hands of the defenders. Chepstow had illustrated his +determination promptly by a half dozen shots fired at the first moving +of one of the logs. Then had come an assault on the door, but, here +again, the ready play of the rifle from one of the windows had driven +these besiegers hurriedly to cover. Some man, more blinded with drink +than the rest of his comrades, had suggested fire. But his suggestion +was promptly vetoed. Had it been the parson only they would probably +have had no scruples, but Betty was there, and they wanted Betty. + +For some time there had been no further assault. + +"I wish I knew how many there were," Chepstow said, in a low voice. + +"Would that do any good?" + +The man moved his shoulders in something like a despairing shrug. + +"Would anything do any good?" + +"Nothing I can think of," Betty murmured bitterly. + +"I thought if there were say only a dozen I might open this door. We +have the repeating-rifles." + +The man's eyes as he spoke glittered with a fierce light. Betty saw it, +and somehow it made her shiver. + +It brought home to her their extremity even more poignantly than all +that had gone before. When a brave churchman's thoughts concentrated in +such a direction she felt that their hopes were small indeed. + +She shook her head. + +"No, uncle dear. We must wait for that until they force an entrance." +She was cool enough in her desperation, cooler far than he. + +"Yes," he nodded reluctantly, "perhaps you're right, but the suspense +is--killing. Hark! Listen, they are coming at us again. I wonder what +it is to be this time." + +The harsh voices of the drunken mob could be plainly heard. They were +coming nearer. Brutal laughter assailed the straining ears inside, and +set their nerves tingling afresh. Then came a hush. It lasted some +seconds. Then a single laugh just outside the door broke upon the +silence. + +"Try again," a voice said. "Say, here's some more. 'Struth you're a +heap of G---- d---- foolishness." + +Another voice broke in angrily. + +"God strike you!" it snarled, "do it your b---- self." + +"Right ho!" + +Then there came a shuffling of feet, and, a moment later, a scraping +and scratching at the foot of the door. Chepstow glanced down at it, +and Betty's eyes were irresistibly drawn in the same direction. + +"What are they doing now?" + +It was the voice of the wounded strike-leader on his bunk at the far +end of the room. He was staring over at the door, his expression one of +even greater fear than that of the defenders themselves. He felt that, +in spite of the part he had played in bringing the strike about, his +position was no better than these others. If anything happened to them +all help for him was gone. Besides, he, too, understood that these men +outside were no longer strikers, but wolves, whiskey-soaked savages +beyond the control of any strike-leader. + +He received no reply. The scraping went on. Something was being thrust +into the gaping crack which stood an inch wide beneath the door. +Suddenly the noise ceased, followed by a long pause. Then, in the +strong draught under the door, a puff of oil smoke belched into the +room, and its nauseous reek set Chepstow coughing. His cough brought an +answering peal of brutal laughter from beyond the door, and some one +shouted to his comrades-- + +"Bully fer you, bo'! Draw 'em! Draw 'em like badgers. Smoke 'em out +like gophers." + +The pungent smoke belched into the room, and the man darted from the +door. + +"Quick!" he cried. "Wet rags! A blanket!" + +Betty sprang to his assistance. The room was rapidly filling with +smoke, which stung their eyes and set them choking. A blanket was +snatched off the wounded strike-leader, but the process of saturating +it was slow. They had only one barrel of water, and dared not waste it +by plunging the blanket into it. So they were forced to resort to the +use of a dipper. At last it was ready and the man crushed it down at +the foot of the door, and stamped it tight with his foot. + +But it had taken too much time to set in place. The room was dense with +a fog of smoke that set eyes streaming and throats gasping. In reckless +despair the man sprang at one of the windows and began to tear down the +carefully-built barricade. + +But now the cunning of the besiegers was displayed. As the last of the +barricade was removed Chepstow discovered that the cotton covering of +the window was smouldering. He tore it out to let in the fresh air, but +only to release a pile of smouldering oil rags, which had been placed +on the thickness of the wall, and set it tumbling into the room. The +window was barricaded on the outside! + +The smoke became unbearable now, and the two prisoners set to work to +trample the smouldering rags out. It was while they were thus occupied +that a fresh disaster occurred. There was a terrific clatter at the +stove, and a cloud of smoke and soot practically put the place in +darkness. Nor did it need the sound of scrambling feet on the roof to +tell those below what had happened. The strikers, by removing the +topmost joint of the pipe, where it protruded through the roof, had +been able, by the aid of a long stick, to dislodge the rest of the pipe +and send it crashing to the floor. It was a master-stroke of diabolical +cunning, for now, added to the smoke and soot, the sulphurous fumes of +the blazing stove rendered the conditions of the room beyond further +endurance. + +Half blinded and gasping Chepstow sprang at the table and seized a +rifle. Betty had dropped into a chair choking. The strike-leader lay +moaning, trying to shut out the smoke with his one remaining blanket. + +"Come on, Betty," shouted the man, in a frenzy of rage. "You've got +your revolver. I'm going to open the door, and may God Almighty have +mercy on the soul of the man who tries to stop us!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +DAVE--THE MAN + + +Dave's buckboard swept up the slope of the last valley. It reached the +dead level of the old travoy trail, which passed in front of Mason's +dugout on its way to the lumber camp. He was looking ahead for signs +which he feared to discover; he wanted the reason of the smoke he had +seen from afar off. But now a perfect screen of towering pine forest +lined the way, and all that lay beyond was hidden from his anxious eyes. + +He flogged his horses faster. The perfect mountain calm was unbroken; +even the speeding horses and the rattle of his buckboard were powerless +to disturb that stupendous quiet. It was a mere circumstance in a world +too vast to take color from a detail so insignificant. It was that +wondrous peace, that thrilling silence that aggravated his fears. His +apprehension grew with each passing moment, and, though he made no +display, his clutch upon the reins, the sharpness with which he plied +his whip, the very immobility of his face, all told their tale of +feelings strung to a high pitch. + +Mason was standing directly behind him in the carryall. He steadied +himself with a grip upon the back of the driving-seat. Beside him the +wretched Truscott was sitting on the jolting slats of the body of the +vehicle, mercilessly thrown about by the bumping over the broken trail. +Mason, too, was staring out ahead. + +"Seems quiet enough," he murmured, half to himself. + +Dave caught at his words. + +"That's how it seems," he said, in a tone of doubt. + +"It's less than half a mile now," Mason went on a moment later. "We're +coming to the big bend." + +Dave nodded. His whip fell across his horses' quarters. "Best get +ready," he said significantly. Then he laughed mirthlessly and tried to +excuse himself. "I don't guess there'll be a heap of trouble, though." + +"No." + +Mason's reply carried no conviction. Both men were in doubt. Neither +knew what to expect. Neither knew in what way to prepare for the +meeting that was now so near. + +Now the trail began to swing out to the right. It was the beginning of +the big bend. The walls of forest about them receded slightly, opening +out where logs had been felled beside the trail in years past. The +middle of the curve was a small clearing. Then, further on, as it +inclined again to the left, it narrowed down to the bare breadth of the +trail. + +"Just beyond this----" + +Mason broke off. His words were cut short by a loud shout just ahead of +them. It was a shout of triumph and gleeful enjoyment. Dave's whip fell +again, and the horses laid on to their traces. From that moment to the +moment when the horses were almost flung upon their haunches by the +sudden jolt with which Dave pulled them up was a matter of seconds +only. He was out of the buckboard, too, having flung the reins to +Mason, and was standing facing a small group of a dozen men whom it was +almost impossible to recognize as lumberjacks. In truth, there were +only three of them who were, the others were some of those Mason had +been forced to engage in his extremity. + +At the sight of Dave's enormous figure a cry broke from the crowd. Then +they looked at the buckboard with its panting horses, and Mason +standing in the carryall, one hand on the reins and one resting on the +revolver on his hip. Their cry died out. But as it did so another broke +from their midst. It was Betty's voice, and her uncle's. There was a +scuffle and a rush. Gripping the girl by the arm Tom Chepstow burst +from their midst and ran to Dave's side, dragging Betty with him. + +"Thank God!" he cried. + +But there was no answering joy from Dave. He scarcely even seemed to +see them. A livid, frozen rage glared out of his eyes. His face was +terrible to behold. He moved forward. His gait was cat-like, his head +was thrust forward, it was almost as if he tiptoed and was about to +spring upon the mob. As he came within a yard of the foremost of the +men he halted, and one great arm shot out with its fist clenching. + +"Back!" he roared; "back to your camp, every man of you! Back, you +cowardly hounds!" + +There were twelve of them; fierce, savage, half-drunken men. They cared +for no one, they feared no one. They were ready to follow whithersoever +their passions led them. There was not a man among them that would not +fight with the last breath in his body. Yet they hesitated at the sound +of that voice. They almost shrank before that passion-lit face. The +man's enormous stature was not without awe for them. And in that moment +of hesitation the battle was won for Dave. Chepstow's repeating-rifle +was at his shoulder, and Mason's revolver had been whipped out of its +holster and was held covering them. + +Suddenly there was a movement in the crowd, somewhere behind. If Dave +saw it he gave no sign. But Mason saw it, and, sharply incisive, his +voice rang out-- + +"The first man that moves this way I'll shoot him like a dog!" + +Instantly every eye among the strikers was turned upon the two men with +their ready weapons, and to a man they understood that the game was up. + +"Get out! Get out--quick!" Dave's great voice split the air with +another deep roar. And the retreat began on the instant with those in +the rear. Some one started to run, and in a moment the rest had joined +in a rush for the camp, vanishing into the forest like a pack of timber +wolves, flinging back fierce, vengeful glances over their shoulders at +those who had so easily routed them. + +No one stirred till the last man had disappeared. Then Dave turned. + +"Quick!" he cried, in an utterly changed voice, "get into the +buckboard!" + +But Betty turned to him in a half-hysterical condition. + +"Oh, Dave, Dave!" she cried helplessly. + +But Dave was just now a man whom none of them had ever seen before. He +had words for no one--not even for Betty. He suddenly caught her in his +arms and lifted her bodily into the buckboard. He scrambled in after +her, while Chepstow jumped up behind. In a moment, it seemed, they were +racing headlong for the camp. + + * * * * * + +The camp was in a ruinous condition. The destructive demon in men +temporarily demented was abroad and his ruthless hand had fallen +heavily. The whole atmosphere suggested the red tide of anarchy. The +charred remains of the sutler's store was the centre of a net of ruin +spread out in every direction, and from this radiated the wreckage of +at least a dozen shanties, which had, like the store, been burned to +the ground. + +In the circumstances it would be impossible to guess at the reasons for +such destruction: maybe it was the result of carelessness, maybe a +mischievous delight in sweeping away that which reminded these men of +their obligations to their employer, maybe it was merely a consequence +of the settlement of their own drunken feuds. Whatever the cause, the +hideous effect of the strike was apparent in every direction. + +In the centre of the clearing was a great gathering of the lumbermen. +Their seared faces expressed every variety of mental attitude, from +fierce jocularity down to the blackest hatred of interference from +those whose authority had become anathema to them. + +They were gathered at the call of those who had fled from the dugout, +spurred to a defense of what they believed to be their rights by a +hurried, garbled account of the summary treatment just meted out to +them. They were ready for more than the mere assertion of their +demands. They were ready to enforce them, they were ready for any +mischief which the circumstances prompted. + +It was a deadly array. Many were sober, many were sobering, many were +still drunk. The latter were those whose cunning had prompted them, at +the outset of the strike, to secrete a sufficient supply of liquor from +their fellows. And the majority of these were not the real +lumber-jacks, those great simple children of the forest, but the +riffraff that had drifted into the camp, or had been sent thither by +those who promoted the strike. The real lumber-jacks were more or less +incapable of such foresight and cunning. They were slow-thinking +creatures of vast muscle, only swift and keen as the axes they used +when engaged in the work which was theirs. + +Through the rank animal growth of their bodies their minds had remained +too stunted to display the low cunning of the scallywags whose +unscrupulous wits alone must supply their idle bodies with a +livelihood. But simple as babes, simple and silly as sheep, and as +dependent upon their shepherd, as these men were, they were at all +times dangerous, the more dangerous for their very simplicity. Just +now, with their unthinking brains sick with the poison of labor's +impossible argument, and the execrable liquor of the camp, they were a +hundred times more deadly. + +Men had come in for the orgy from all the outlying camps. They had been +carefully shepherded by those whose business it was to make the strike +successful. Discontent had been preached into every ear, and the seed +had fallen upon fruitful, virgin soil. Thus it was that a great +concourse had foregathered now. + +There was an atmosphere of restrained excitement abroad among them. For +them the news of Dave's arrival had tremendous possibilities. A babel +of harsh voices debated the situation in loud tones, each man forcing +home his argument with a mighty power of lung, a never-failing method +of supporting doubtful argument. The general attitude was threatening, +yet it hardly seemed to be unanimous. There was too much argument. +There seemed to be an undercurrent of uncertainty with no single, +capable voice to check or guide it. + +As the moments sped the crowd became more and more threatening, but +whether against the master of the mills, or whether the result of hot +blood and hot words, it would have been difficult to say. Then, just as +the climax seemed to be approaching, a magical change swept over the +throng. It was wrought by the sudden appearance of Dave's buckboard, +which seemed to leap upon the scene from the depth of the forest. And +as it came into view a hoarse, fierce shout went up. Then, in a moment, +an expectant hush fell. + +Dave's eyes were fixed upon the crowd before him. He gave no sign. His +face, like a mask, was cold, hard, unyielding. No word was spoken by +those in the buckboard. Every one, with nerves straining and pulses +throbbing, was waiting for what was to happen; every one except the +prisoner, Truscott. + +The master of the mills read the meaning of what he beheld with the +sureness of a man bred to the calling of these men. He knew. And +knowing, he had little blame for them. How could it be otherwise with +these unthinking souls? The blame must lie elsewhere. But his sympathy +left his determination unaltered. He knew, no one better, that here the +iron heel alone could prevail, and for the time his heel was shod for +the purpose. + +He drew near. Some one shouted a furious epithet at him, and the cry +was taken up by others. The horses shied. He swung them back with a +heavy hand, and forced them to face the crowd, his whip falling +viciously at the same time. But, for a moment, his face relaxed its +cold expression. His quick ears had detected a lack of unanimity in the +execration. Suddenly he pulled the horses up. He passed the reins to +Mason and leaped to the ground. + +It was a stirring moment. The mob advanced, but the movement seemed +almost reluctant. It was not the rush of blind fury one might have +expected, but rather as though it were due to pressure from behind by +those under cover of their comrades in front. + +Dave moved on to meet them, and those in the buckboard remained deathly +still. Mason was the first to move. He had just become aware that Dave +had left his revolver on the seat of the vehicle. Instantly he lifted +the reins and walked the horses closer to the crowd. + +"He's unarmed," he said, in explanation to the parson. + +Chepstow nodded. He moved his repeating-rifle to a handier position. +Betty looked up. + +"He left that gun purposely," she said. "I saw him." + +Her face was ghastly pale, but a light shone in her eyes which nobody +could have failed to interpret. Mason saw it and no longer hesitated. + +"Will you take these reins?" he said. "And--give me your revolver." + +The girl understood and obeyed in silence. + +"I think there'll be trouble," Mason went on a moment later, as he saw +Dave halt within a few yards of the front rank of the strikers. + +He watched the men close about his chief in a semicircle, but the +buckboard in rear always held open a road for retreat. Now the crowd +pressed up from behind. The semicircle became dense. Those in the +buckboard saw that many of the men were carrying the tools of their +calling, prominent among them being the deadly peavey, than which, in +case of trouble, no weapon could be more dangerous at close quarters. + +As he halted Dave surveyed the sea of rough, hard faces glowering upon +him. He heard the mutterings. He saw the great bared arms and the +knotty hands grasping the hafts of their tools. He saw all this and +understood, but the sight in no way disturbed him. His great body was +erect, his cold eyes unwavering. It was the unconscious pose of a man +who feels the power to control within him. + +"Well?" he inquired, with an easy drawl. + +Instantly there was silence everywhere. It was the critical moment. It +was the moment when, before all things, he must convince these lawless +creatures of his power, his reserve of commanding force. + +"Well?" he demanded again. "Where's your leader? Where's the gopher +running this layout? I've come right along to talk to you boys to see +if we can't straighten this trouble out. Where's your leader, the man +who was hired to make you think I wasn't treating you right; where is +he? Speak up, boys, I can't rightly hear all you're saying. I want to +parley with your leaders." + +Mason listening to the great voice of the lumberman chuckled inaudibly. +He realized something of Dave's method, and the shrewdness of it. + +The mutterings had begun afresh. Some of the front rank men drew +nearer. Dave did not move. He wanted an answer. He wanted an indication +of their actual mood. Somebody laughed in the crowd. It was promptly +shouted down. It was the indication the master of the mills sought. +They wanted to hear what he had to say. He allowed the ghost of a smile +to play round the corners of his stern mouth for a moment. But his +attitude remained uncompromising. His back stiffened, his great +shoulders squared, he stood out a giant amongst those giants of the +forest. + +"Where's your man?" he cried, in a voice that could be heard by +everybody. "Is he backing down? That's not like a lumber-jack. P'r'aps +he's not a lumber-jack. P'r'aps he's got no clear argument I can't +answer. P'r'aps he hasn't got the grit to get out in the open and talk +straight as man to man. Well, let it go at that. Guess you'd best set +one of you up as spokesman. I've got all the time you need to listen." + +"Your blasted skunk of a foreman shot him down!" cried a voice in the +crowd, and it was supported by ominous murmurs from the rest. + +"By God, and Mason was right!" cried Dave, in a voice so fierce that it +promptly silenced the murmurs. His dilating eyes rested on several +familiar faces. The faces of men who had worked for him for years, men +whose hair was graying in the service of the woods. He also flashed his +lightning glance upon faces unfamiliar, strangers to his craft. "By +God, he was right!" he repeated, as though to force the violence of his +opinion upon them. "I could have done it myself. And why? Because he +has come here and told you you are badly treated. He's told you the +tale that the profits of this work of yours belong to you. He's told +you I am an oppressor, who lives by the sweat of your labors. He tells +you this because he is paid to tell you. Because he is paid by those +who wish to ruin my mills, and put me out of business, and so rob you +all of the living I have made it possible for you to earn. You refuse +to work at his bidding; what is the result? My mill is closed down. I +am ruined. These forests are my right to cut. There is no more cutting +to be done. You starve. Yes, you starve like wolves in winter. You'll +say you can get work elsewhere. Go and get it, and you'll starve till +you get it at half the wage I pay you. I am telling you what is right. +I am talking to you with the knowledge of my own ruin staring me in the +face. You have been told you can squeeze me, you can squeeze a fraction +more of pay out of me. But you can't, not one cent, any man of you; and +if you go to work again to keep our ship afloat you'll have to work +harder than ever before--for the same pay. Now pass up your spokesman, +and I'll talk to him. I can't bellow for all the world to hear." + +It was a daring beginning, so daring that those in the buckboard gasped +in amazement. But Dave knew his men, or, at least, he knew the real +lumber-jack. Straight, biting talk must serve him, or nothing would. + +Now followed a buzz of excited talk. There were those among the crowd +who from the beginning had had doubts, and to these Dave's words +appealed. He had voiced something of what they had hazily thought. +Others there were who were furious at his biting words. Others again, +and these were not real lumber-jacks, who were for turning upon him the +savage brutality of their drink-soaked brains. + +An altercation arose. It was the dispute of factions suddenly inflamed. +It was somewhere in rear of the crowd. Those in front turned to learn +the cause. Dave watched and listened. He understood. It was the result +of his demand for a spokesman. Opinions were divided, and a dozen +different men were urged forward. He knew he must check the dispute. +Suddenly his voice rang out above the din. + +"It's no use snarling about it like a lot of coyotes," he roared. "Pass +them all through, and I'll listen to 'em all. Now, boys, pass 'em +through peaceably." + +One of the men in front of him supported him. + +"Aye, aye," he shouted. "That's fair, boys, bring 'em along. The +boss'll talk 'em straight." + +The man beside him hit him sharply in the ribs, and the +broad-shouldered "jack" swung round. + +"Ther' ain't no 'boss' to this layout, Peter," objected the man who had +dealt the blow. "Yonder feller ain't no better'n us." + +The man scowled threateningly as he spoke. He was an enormous brute +with a sallow, ill-tempered face, and black hair. Dave heard the words +and his eyes surveyed him closely. He saw at a glance there was nothing +of the lumberman about him. He set him down at once as a French +Canadian bully, probably one of the men instrumental in the strike. + +However, his attention was now drawn to the commotion caused by six of +the lumbermen being pushed to the front as spokesmen. They joined the +front rank, and stood sheepishly waiting for their employer. Custom and +habit were strong upon them, and a certain awe of the master of the +mills affected them. + +"Now we'll get doing," Dave said, noting with satisfaction that four of +the six were old hands who had worked beside him in his early days. +"Well, boys, let's have it. What's your trouble? Give us the whole +story." + +But as spokesmen these fellows were not brilliant. They hesitated, and, +finally, with something approaching a shamefaced grin, one of them +spoke up. + +"It's--it's jest wages, boss." + +"Leave it at 'wages,' Bob!" shouted a voice at the back of the crowd. + +"Yes," snarled the sallow-faced giant near by. "We're jest man to man. +Ther' ain't no 'bosses' around." + +"Hah!" Dave breathed the ejaculation. Then he turned his eyes, steely +hard, upon the last speaker, and his words came in an unmistakable +tone. "It seems there are men here who aren't satisfied with their +spokesmen. Maybe they'll speak out good and plenty, instead of +interrupting." + +His challenge seemed to appeal to the original spokesman, for he +laughed roughly. + +"Say, boss," he cried, "he don't cut no ice, anyways. He's jest a bum +roadmaker. He ain't bin in camp more'n six weeks. We don't pay no +'tention to him. Y'see, boss," he went on, emphasizing the last word +purposely, "it's jest wages. We're workin' a sight longer hours than is +right, an' we ain't gettin' nuthin' extry 'cep' the rise you give us +three months back. Wal, we're wantin' more. That's how." + +He finished up his clumsy speech with evident relief, and mopped his +forehead with his ham-like hand. + +"And since when, Bob Nicholson, have you come to this conclusion?" +demanded Dave, with evident kindliness. + +His tone produced instant effect upon the man. He became easier at +once, and his manner changed to one of distinct friendliness. + +"Wal, boss, I can't rightly say jest when, fer sure. Guess it must ha' +bin when that orator-feller got around----" + +"Shut up!" roared some one in the crowd, and the demand was followed up +by distinct cursing in several directions. The sallow-faced roadmaker +seized his opportunity. + +"It's wages we want an' wages we're goin' to git!" he shouted so that +the crowd could hear. "You're sweatin' us. That's wot you're doin', +sweatin' us, to make your pile a sight bigger. We're honest men up +here; we ain't skunks what wants wot isn't our lawful rights. Ef you're +yearnin' fer extry work you got to pay fer it. Wot say, boys?" + +"Aye! That's it. Extry wages," cried a number of voices in the +background. But again the chorus was not unanimous. There were those, +too, in the front whose scowling faces, turned on the speaker, showed +their resentment at this interference by a man they did not recognize +as a lumber-jack. + +Dave seized his opportunity. + +"You're wanting extra wages for overtime," he cried, in a voice that +carried like a steam siren. "Well, why didn't you ask for them? Why did +you go out on strike first, and then ask? Why? I'll tell you why. I'll +tell you why you chose this damned gopher racket instead of acting like +the honest men you boast yourselves to be. I can tell you why you +wanted to lock up your camp-boss, and so prevent your wishes reaching +me. I can tell you why you had men on the road between here and Malkern +to stop letters going through. I can tell you why you honest men set +fire to the store here, and stole all the liquor and goods in it. I can +tell you why you did these things. Because you've just listened like +silly sheep to the skunks who've come along since the fever broke out. +Because you've listened to the men who've set out to ruin us both, you +and me. Because you've listened to these scallywags, who aren't +lumbermen, who've come among you. They're not 'jacks' and they don't +understand the work, but they've been drawing the same wages as you, +and they're trying to rob you of your living, they're trying to take +your jobs from you and leave you nothing. That's why you've done these +things, you boys who've worked with me for years and years, and had all +you needed. Are you going to let 'em rob you? They _are_ robbing you, +for, I swear before God, my mills are closed down, and they'll remain +closed, and every one of you can get out and look for new work unless +you turn to at once." + +A murmur again arose as he finished speaking, but this time there was a +note of alarm in it, a note of anger that was not against their +employer. Faces looked puzzled, and ended by frowning into the faces of +neighbors. Dave understood the effect he had made. He was waiting for a +bigger effect. He was fighting for something that was dearer to him +than life, and all his courage and resource were out to the limit. He +glanced at the sallow-faced giant. Their eyes met, and in his was a +fierce challenge. He drew the fellow as easily as any expert swordsman. +The man had been shrewd enough to detect the change in his comrades, +and he promptly hurled himself into the fray to try and recover the +lost ground. He stepped forward, towering over his fellows. He meant +mischief. + +"See, mates," he shouted, trying to put a jeer in his angry voice, +"look at 'im! He's come here to call us a pack o' skunks an' gophers. +Him wot's makin' thousands o' dollars a day out of us. He's come here +to kick us like a lot o' lousy curs. His own man shot up our leader, +him as was trying to fit things right fer us. I tell you it was +murder--bloody murder! We're dirt to him. He can kick us--shoot us up. +We're dogs--lousy yeller dogs--we are. You'll listen to his slobbery +talk an' you'll go to work--and he'll cut your wages lower, so he can +make thousan's more out o' you." Then he suddenly swung round on Dave +with a fierce oath. "God blast you, it's wages we want--d'ye +hear--wages! An' we're goin' to have 'em! You ain't goin' to grind us +no longer, mister! You're goin' to sign a 'greement fer a rise o' wages +of a quarter all round. That's wot you're goin' to do!" + +Dave was watching, watching. His opportunity was coming. + +"I came to talk to honest 'jacks,'" he said icily, "not to blacklegs. +I'll trouble you to get right back into the crowd, and hide your ugly +head, and keep your foul tongue quiet. The boys have got their +spokesmen." + +His voice was sharp, but the man failed to apprehend the danger that +lay behind it. He was a bigger man than Dave, and, maybe, he thought to +cow him. Perhaps he didn't realize that the master of the mills was now +fighting for his existence. + +There was an instant's pause, and Dave took a step toward him. + +"Get back!" he roared. + +His furious demand precipitated things, as he intended it should. Like +lightning the giant whipped out a gun. + +"I'll show you!" he cried. + +There was a sharp report. But before he could pull the trigger a second +time Dave's right fist shot out, and a smashing blow on the chin felled +him to the ground like a pole-axed ox. + +As the man fell Dave turned again to the strikers, and no one noticed +that his left arm was hanging helpless at his side. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE END OF THE STRIKE + + +When the master of the mills faced the men again he hardly knew what to +expect. He could not be sure how they would view his action, or what +attitude they would adopt. He had considered well before provoking the +sallow-faced giant, he had measured him up carefully; the thing had +been premeditated. He knew the influence of physical force upon these +men. The question was, had he used it at the right moment? He thought +he had; he understood lumbermen, but there were more than lumbermen +here, and he knew that it was this element of outsiders with whom he +was really contending. + +The fallen man's pistol was on the ground at his feet. He put a foot +upon it; then, glancing swiftly at the faces before him, he became +aware of a silence, utter, complete, reigning everywhere. There was +astonishment, even something of awe in many of the faces; in others +doubt mingled with a scowling displeasure. The thing had happened so +suddenly. The firing of the shot had startled them unpleasantly, and +they were still looking for the result of it. On this point they had no +satisfaction. Only Dave knew--he had reason to. The arm hanging limply +at his side, and the throb of pain at his shoulder left him in no +doubt. But he had no intention of imparting his knowledge to any one +else yet. He had not finished the fight which must justify his +existence as the owner of the mills. + +The effect of his encounter was not an unpleasant one on the majority +of the men. The use of a fist in the face of a gun was stupendous, even +to them. Many of them reveled in the outsider's downfall, and +contemplated the grit of their employer with satisfaction. But there +were others not so easily swayed. Amongst these were the man's own +comrades, men who, like himself, were not real lumbermen, but agitators +who had received payment to agitate. Besides these there were those +unstable creatures, always to be found in such a community, who had no +very definite opinions of their own, but looked for the lead of the +majority, ready to side with those who offered the strongest support. + +All this was very evident in that moment of silence, but the moment +passed so quickly that it was impossible to say how far Dave's action +had really served him. Suddenly a murmur started. In a few seconds it +had risen to a shout. It started with the fallen giant's friends. There +was a rush in the crowd, an ominous swaying, as of a struggle going on +in its midst. Some one put up a vicious cry that lifted clear above the +general din. + +"Lynch him! Lynch him!" + +The cry was taken up by the rest of the makeshifts and some of the +doubters. Then came the sudden but inevitable awakening of the slow, +fierce brains of the real men of the woods. The awakening brought with +it not so much a desire to champion their employer, as a resentment +that these men they regarded as scallywags should attempt to take +initiative in their concerns; it was the rousing of the latent hatred +which ever exists in the heart of the legitimate tradesman for the +interloper. It caught them in a whirlwind of passion. Their blood rose. +All other considerations were forgotten, it mattered nothing the object +of that mutiny, all thought of wages, all thought of wrongs between +themselves and their employer were banished from their minds. They +hated nothing so badly as these men with whom they had worked in +apparent harmony. + +It was at this psychological moment that the final fillip was given. It +came from a direction that none of the crowd realized. It came from one +who knew the woodsman down to his very core, who had watched every +passing mood of the crowd during the whole scene with the intentness of +one who only waits his opportunity. It was Bob Mason in the buckboard. + +"Down with the blacklegs! Down with the dirty 'scabs'!" he shouted. + +In a moment the battle was raging. There was a wild rush of men, and +their steel implements were raised aloft. "Down with the 'scabs'!" The +cry echoed and reechoed in every direction, taken up by every true +lumberman. A tumult of shouting and cursing roared everywhere. The +crowd broke. It spread out. Groups of struggling combatants were dotted +about till the sight suggested nothing so much as a massacre. It was a +fight of brutal savagery that would stop short only at actual +slaughter. It was the safety-valve for the accumulated spleen of a +week's hard drinking. It was the only way to steady the shaken, +drink-soaked nerves and restore the dull brains to the dead level of a +desire to return to work and order. + +Fortunately it was a short-lived battle too. The lumber-jacks were the +masters from the outset. They were better men, they were harder, they +had more sheer "grit." Then, too, they were in the majority. The +"scabs" began to seek refuge in flight, but not before they had +received a chastisement that would remain a sore memory for many days +to come. Those who went down in the fight got the iron-shod boots of +their adversaries in their ribs, till, in desperation, they scrambled +to their feet and took their punishment like men. But the victory was +too easy for the lumber-jacks' rage to last. Like the wayward, +big-hearted children of nature they were, their fury passed as quickly +as it had stirred. The terror-stricken flight of those upon whom their +rage had turned inspired in them a sort of fiendish amusement, and in +this was perhaps the saving of a terrible tragedy. As it was, a few +broken limbs, a liberal tally of wounds and bruises were the harvest of +that battle. That, and the final clearing out of the element of +discontent. It was victory for the master of the mills. + +In less than ten minutes the victors were straggling back from their +pursuit of a routed foe. Dave had not moved. He was still standing +beside the fallen giant, who was now recovering consciousness from the +knock-out blow he had received. They came up in small bands, laughing +and recounting episodes of the fight. They were in the saving mood for +their employer. All thoughts of a further strike had passed out of +their simple heads. They came back to Dave, like sheep, who, after a +wild stampede, have suddenly refound their shepherd, and to him they +looked for guidance. And Dave was there for the purpose. He called +their attention and addressed them. + +"Now, boys," he said cheerfully, "you've got nicely rid of that scum, +and I'm going to talk to you. We understand each other. We've worked +too long together for it to be otherwise. But we don't understand those +others who're not lumbermen. Say, maybe you can't all hear me; my voice +isn't getting stronger, so I'll just call up that buckboard and stand +on it, and talk from there." + +Amidst a murmur of approval the buckboard was drawn up, and not without +tremendous pain Dave scrambled up into the driving-seat. Then it was +seen by both lumbermen and those in the buckboard that he had left a +considerable pool of blood where he had been standing. + +Betty, with horror in her eyes, turned to him. + +"What is it?" she began. But he checked her with a look, and turned at +once to the men. + +"I'm first going to tell you about this strike, boys," he said. "After +that we'll get to business, and I guess it won't be my fault if we +don't figger things out right. Here, do you see this fellow sitting +here? Maybe some of you'll recognize him?" He pointed at Jim Truscott +sitting in the carryall. His expression was surly, defiant. But somehow +he avoided the faces in front of him. "I'm going to tell you about him. +This is the man who organized the strike. He found the money and the +men to do the dirty work. He did it because he hates me and wants to +ruin me. He came to you with plausible tales of oppression and so +forth. He cared nothing for you, but he hated me. I tell you frankly he +did this thing because he knew I was pushed to the last point to make +good my contract with the government, because he knew that to delay the +output of logs from this camp meant that I should go to smash. In doing +this he meant to carry you down with me. That's how much he cares for +your interests." A growl of anger punctuated his speech. But he +silenced them with a gesture and proceeded. His voice was getting +weaker, and a deadly pallor was stealing over his face. Chepstow, +watching him, was filled with anxiety. Betty's brown eyes clung to his +face with an expression of love, horror and pity in them that spoke far +louder than any words. Mason was simply calculating in his mind how +long Dave could keep up his present attitude. + +"Do you get my meaning, boys?" he went on. "It's this, if we don't get +this work through before winter I'm broke--broke to my last dollar. And +you'll be out of a billet--every mother's son of you--with the winter +staring you in the face." + +He paused and took a deep breath. Betty even thought she saw him sway. +The men kept an intense silence. + +"Well?" he went on a moment later, pulling himself together with an +evident effort. "I'm just here to talk straight business, and that's +what you're going to listen to. First, I'll tell you this fellow's +going to get his right medicine through me in the proper manner. Then, +second and last, I want to give you a plain understanding of things +between ourselves. There's going to be no rise in wages. I just can't +do it. That's all. But I'm going to give each man in my camp a big +bonus, a nice fat wad of money with which to paint any particular town +he favors red, when the work's done. That's to be extra, above his +wages. And the whole lot of you shall work for me next season on a +guarantee. But from now to the late fall you're going to work, boys, +you're going to work as if the devil himself was driving you. We've got +time to make up, and shortage besides, and you've got to make it up. I +don't want any slackers. Men who have any doubts can get right out. +You've got to work as you never worked in your lives before. Now, boys, +give us your word. Is it work or----" + +Dave got no further. A shout--hearty, enthusiastic--went up from the +crowd. It meant work, and he was satisfied. + +The next few minutes were passed in a scene of the wildest excitement. +The men closed round the buckboard, and struggled with each other to +grip the big man's hand. And Dave, faint and weary as he was, knew them +too well to reject their friendly overtures. Besides, they were, as he +said, like himself, men of the woods, and he was full of a great +sympathy and friendliness for them. At last, however, he turned to +Chepstow. + +"Drive back to the dugout, Tom," he said. "Things are getting misty. I +think--I'm--done." + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +IN THE DUGOUT + + +Three arduous and anxious days followed the ending of the strike, and +each of the occupants of Mason's dugout felt the strain of them in his +or her own particular way. Next to the strike itself, Dave's wound was +the most serious consideration. He was the leader, the rudder of his +ship; his was the controlling brain; and he was a most exasperating +patient. His wound was bad enough, though not dangerous. It would be +weeks before the use of his left arm was restored to him; but he had a +way of forgetting this, of forgetting that he had lost a great quantity +of blood, until weakness prostrated him and roused him to a peevish +perversity. + +Betty was his self-appointed nurse. Tom Chepstow might examine his +wound and consider his condition, but it was Betty who dressed his +wound, Betty who prepared his food and ministered to his lightest +needs. From the moment of his return to the dugout she took charge of +him. She consulted no one, she asked for no help. For the time, at +least, he was her possession, he was hers to lavish all the fulness of +her great love upon, a love that had something almost maternal in its +wonderful protective instinct. + +Mason was busy with the work of reorganization. His was the practical +hand and head while Dave was on his sick-bed. From daylight to long +after dark he took no rest. Dave's counsel guided him to an extent, but +much had to be done without any consultation with the master of the +mills. Provisioning the camp was a problem not easily solved. It was +simple enough to order up food from Malkern, but there would be at +least a week's delay before its arrival. Finally, he surmounted this +difficulty, through the return of Lieberstein, who had fled to the +woods with his cash-box and a supply of provisions, at the first sign +of trouble. Now he had returned to save what he could from the wreck. +The Jew needed assistance to recover his looted property--what remained +of it. The overseer gave him that assistance, and at the same time +arranged that all provisions so recovered should be redistributed (at a +price) as rations to the men. Thus the delay in the arrival of supplies +from Malkern was tided over. But though he availed himself of this +means of getting over his difficulty he was fully determined to rid the +camp, at the earliest opportunity, of so treacherous a rascal as +Lieberstein. + +In two days the work of restoration was in full swing. The burned store +and shanties were run up with all a lumberman's rapidity and disregard +for finish. Time was the thing that mattered. And so wonderfully did +Mason drive and cajole his men, that on the third day the gangs once +more marched out into the woods. Once again the forests echoed with the +hiss of saw, the ringing clang of smiting axe, the crash of falling +trees, the harsh voices of the woodsmen, and the hundred and one sounds +of bustling activity which belong to a lumber camp in full work. + +That day was a pleasant one for the occupants of the dugout. It was a +wonderful work Mason had done. They all knew and appreciated his +devotion to his wounded employer, and though none spoke of it, whenever +he appeared in their midst their appreciation of him showed in their +manner. Betty was very gentle and kindly. She saw that he wanted for +nothing in the way of the comforts which the dugout could provide. + +Tom Chepstow was far too busy with his sick to give attention to +anything else. His hands were very full, and his was a task that showed +so little result. Dave, for the most part, saw everything that was +going on about him, and had a full estimate of all that was being done +in his interests by the devoted little band, and, absurdly enough, the +effect upon him was to stir him to greater irritability. + +It was evening, and the slanting sunlight shone in through one of the +windows. It was a narrow beam of light, but its effect was sufficiently +cheering. No dugout is a haven of brightness, and just now this one +needed all that could help to lift the shadow of sickness and disaster +that pervaded it. + +Betty was preparing supper, and Dave, lying on his stretcher, his vast +bulk only half concealed by the blanket thrown over him, was watching +the girl with eyes that fed hungrily upon the swift, graceful movements +of her pretty figure, the play of expression upon her sweet, sun-tanned +face, the intentness, the whole-hearted concentration in her steady, +serious eyes as she went about her work. + +Now and again she glanced over at his rough bed, but he seemed to be +asleep every time she turned in his direction. The result was an +additional care in her work. She made no noise lest she should waken +him. Presently she stooped and pushed a log into the fire-box of the +cook-stove. The cinders fell with a clatter, and she glanced round +apprehensively. Her movement was so sudden that Dave's wide-open eyes +had no time to shut. In a moment she was all contrition at her +clumsiness. + +"I'm so sorry, Dave," she exclaimed. "I did so hope you'd sleep on till +supper. It's half an hour yet." + +"I haven't been sleeping at all." + +"Why, I----" + +He smiled and shook his head, and his smile delighted the girl. It was +the first she had seen in him since his arrival in the camp. His +impatience at being kept to his bed was perhaps dying out. She had +always heard that the most active and impatient always became +reconciled to bed in the end. + +"Yes, I did it on purpose," Dave said, still smiling. "You see I wanted +to think. You'd have talked if I hadn't. I----" + +"Oh, Dave!" + +Betty's reproach had something very like resentment in it. She turned +abruptly to the boiler of stew and tasted its contents, while the man +chuckled softly. + +But she turned round on him again almost immediately. + +"Why are you laughing?" she demanded quickly. + +But he did not seem inclined to enlighten her. + +"Half an hour to supper?" he said musingly. "Tom'll be in directly--and +Mason." + +Betty was still looking at him with her cooking spoon poised as it had +been when she tasted the stew. + +"Yes," she said, "they'll be in directly. I've only just got to make +the tea." She dropped the spoon upon the table and replaced the lid of +the boiler. Then she came over to his bedside. "What did you mean +saying I should have talked?" she asked, only now there was a smiling +response to the smile still lurking in the gray depths of the man's +eyes. Dave drew a long sigh of resignation. + +"Well, y'see, Betty, if I'd laid here with my eyes open, staring about +the room, at you, at the roof, at the window for a whole heap of time, +you'd have said to yourself, 'Dave's suffering sure. He can't sleep. +He's miserable, unhappy.' You'd have said all those things, and with +all your kind little heart, you'd have set to work to cheer me up--same +as you'd no doubt have done for that strike-leader fellow you shipped +over to the sick camp to make room for me. Well, I just didn't want +that kind of cheering. I was thinking--thinking mighty hard--figgering +how best to make a broken-winged--er--owl fly without waiting for the +wing to mend. Y'see, thinking's mostly all I can do just now, and I +need to do such a mighty heap to keep me from getting mad and breaking +things. Y'see every hour, as I lie here, I kind of seem to be storing +up steam like a locomotive, and sometimes I feel--feel as if I was +going to bust. Being sick makes me hate things." His smiling protest +was yet perfectly serious. The girl understood. A moment later he went +on. "Half an hour to supper?" he said, as though suddenly reaching a +decision that had cost him much thought. "Well, just sit right down on +this stretcher, and I'm going to talk you tired. I'm sick, so you can't +refuse." + +The man's eyes still smiled, but the seriousness of his manner had +increased. Nor was Betty slow to observe it. She gladly seated herself +on the edge of the stretcher, and without the least embarrassment, +without the least self-consciousness, her soft eyes rested on the +rugged face of her patient. She was glad that he wanted to talk--and to +her, and she promptly took him up in his own tone. + +"Well, I've got to listen, I s'pose," she said, with a bright smile. +"As you say, you're sick. You might have added that I am your nurse." + +"Yes, I s'pose you are. It seems funny me needing a nurse. I s'pose I +do need one?" + +Betty nodded; her eyes were bright with an emotion that the man's words +had all unconsciously stirred. This man, so strong for himself, so +strong to help others--this man, on whom all who came into contact with +him leaned as upon some staunch, unfailing support--this man, so +invincible, so masterful, so eager in the battle where the odds were +against him, needed a nurse! A great pity, a great sympathy, went out +to him. Then a feeling of joy and gratitude at the thought that she was +his nurse succeeded it. She--she alone had the right to wait upon him. +But her face expressed none of these feelings when she replied. She +nodded gravely. + +"Yes, you need a nurse, you poor old Dave. Just for once you're going +to give others a chance of being to you what you have always been to +them. It breaks my heart to see you on a sickbed; but, Dave, you can +never know the joy, the happiness it gives me to be--your nurse. All my +life it has been the other way. All my life you have been my wise +counselor, my ever-ready loyal friend; now, in ever so small a degree, +you have to lean on me. Don't be perverse, Dave. Let me help you all I +can. Don't begrudge me so small a happiness. But you said you were +going to talk me tired, and I'm doing it all." She laughed lightly, but +it was a laugh to hide her real feelings. + +The man's uninjured arm reached out, and his great hand rested heavily +on one of hers. The pressure of his fingers, intended to be gentle, was +crushing. His action meant so much. No words could have thanked her +more truly than that hand pressure. Betty's face grew warm with +delight; and she turned her eyes toward the stove as though to see that +all was well with her cooking. + +"They're cutting to-day?" Dave's eyes were turned upon the window. The +sunlight was dying out now, and the gray dusk was stealing upon the +room. Betty understood the longing in the man's heart. + +"Yes, they're cutting." + +He stirred uneasily. + +"My shoulder is mending fast," he said a moment later. And the girl saw +his drift. + +She shook her head. + +"It's mending, but it won't be well--for weeks," she said. + +"It's got to be," he said, with tense emphasis, after a long pause. His +voice was low, but thrilling with the purpose of a mind that would not +bend to the weakness of his body. + +"You must be patient, Dave dear," the girl said, with the +persuasiveness of a mother for her child. + +For a moment the man's brows drew together in a frown and his lips +compressed. + +"Betty, Betty, I can't be patient," he suddenly burst out. "I know I'm +all wrong; but I can't be patient. You know what all this means. I'm +not going to attempt to tell you. You understand it all. I cannot lie +here a day longer. Even now I seem to hear the saws and axes at work. I +seem to see the men moving through the forests. I seem to hear Mason's +orders in the dead calm of the woods. With the first logs that are +travoyed to the river I must leave here and get back to Malkern. There +is work to be done, and from now on it will be man's work. It will be +more than a fight against time. It will be a battle against almost +incalculable odds, a battle in which all is against us. Betty, you are +my nurse, and as you hope to see me through with this broken shoulder, +so you must not attempt to alter my decision. I know you. You want to +see me fit and well. Before all things you desire that. You will +understand me when I say that, before all things, I must see the work +through. My bodily comfort must not be considered; and as my friend, as +my nurse, you must not hinder me. I must leave here to-night." + +The man had lifted himself to a half-sitting posture in his excitement, +and the girl watched him with anxious eyes. Now she reached out, and +one hand gently pressed him back to his pillow. As he had said, she +understood; and when she spoke, her words were the words he wished to +hear. They soothed him at once. + +"Yes, Dave. If you must return, it shall be as you say." + +He caught her hand and held it, crushing its small round flesh in the +hollow of his great palm. It was his gratitude, his gratitude for her +understanding and sympathy. His eyes met hers. And in that moment +something else stirred in him. The pressure tightened upon her +unresisting hand. The blood mounted to her head. It seemed to +intoxicate her. It was a moment of such ecstasy as she had dreamed of +in a vague sort of way--a moment when the pure woman spirit in her was +exalted to such a throne of spiritual light as is beyond the dream of +human imagination. + +In the man, too, was a change. There was something looking out of his +eyes which seemed to have banished his last thought of that lifelong +desire for the success of his labors, something which left him no room +for anything else, something which had for its inception all the human +passionate desire of his tremendous soul. His gray eyes glowed with a +living fire; they deepened; a flush of hot blood surged over his rugged +features, lighting them out of their plainness. His temples throbbed +visibly, and the vast sinews shivered with the fire that swept through +his body. + +In a daze Betty understood the change. Her heart leaped out to him, +yielding all her love, all that was hers to give. It cried aloud her +joy in the passion of those moments, but her lips were silent. She had +gazed into heaven for one brief instant, then her eyes dropped before a +vision she dared no longer to look upon. + +"Betty!" + +The man had lifted to his elbow again. A torrent of passionate words +rushed to his lips. But they remained unspoken. His heavy tongue was +incapable of giving them expression. He halted. That one feverish +exclamation was all that came, for his tongue clave in his mouth. But +in that one word was the avowal of such a love as rarely falls to the +lot of woman. It was the man's whole being that spoke. + +Betty's hand twisted from his grasp. She sprang to her feet and turned +to the door. + +"It's Bob Mason," she said, in a voice that was almost an awed whisper, +as she rushed to the cook-stove. + +The camp-boss strode heavily into the room. There was a light in his +eyes that usually would have gladdened the master of the mills. Now, +however, Dave's thoughts were far from the matters of the camp. + +"We've travoyed a hundred to the river bank!" the lumberman exclaimed +in a tone of triumph. "The work's begun!" + +It was Betty who answered him. Hers was the ready sympathy, the heart +to understand for others equally with herself. She turned with a smile +of welcome, of pride in his pride. + +"Bob, you're a gem!" she cried, holding out a hand of kindliness to him. + +And Dave's tardy words followed immediately with characteristic +sincerity. + +"Thanks, Bob," he said, in his deep tones. + +"It's all right, boss, they're working by flare to-night, an' they're +going on till ten o'clock." + +Dave nodded. His thoughts had once more turned into the smooth channel +of his affairs. Betty was serving out supper. + +A few moments later, weary and depressed, the parson came in for his +supper. His report was much the same as usual. Progress--all his +patients were progressing, but it was slow work, for the recent battle +had added to the number of his patients. + +There was very little talk until supper was over. Then it began as +Mason was preparing to depart again to his work. Dave spoke of his +decision without any preamble. + +"Say, folks, I'm going back to Malkern to-night," he said, with a +smiling glance of humor at his friends in anticipation of the storm of +protest he knew his announcement would bring upon himself. + +Mason was on his feet in an instant. + +"You can't do it, boss!" he exclaimed. "You----" + +"No you don't, Dave, old friend," broke in Chepstow, with a shake of +his head. "You'll stay right here till I say 'go.'" + +Dave's smile broadened, and his eyes sought Betty's. + +"Well, Betty?" he demanded. + +But Betty understood. + +"I have nothing to say," she replied quietly. + +Dave promptly turned again to the parson. His smile had gone again. + +"I've got to go, Tom," he said. "My work's done here, but it hasn't +begun yet in Malkern. Do you get my meaning? Until the cutting began up +here I was not needed down there. Now it is different. There is no one +in Malkern to head things. Dawson and Odd are good men, but they are +only my--foremen. It is imperative that I go, and--to-night." + +"But look here, boss, it can't be done," cried Mason, with a sort of +hopeless earnestness. "You aren't fit to move yet. The journey +down--you'd never stand it. Besides----" + +"Yes, besides, who's to take you down? How are you going?" Chepstow +broke in sharply. He meant to clinch the matter once for all. + +Dave's manner returned to the peevishness of his invalid state. + +"There's the buckboard," he said sharply. + +"Can you drive it?" demanded the parson with equal sharpness. "I can't +take you down. I can't leave the sick. Mason is needed here. Well?" + +"Don't worry. I'm driving myself," Dave said soberly. + +Chepstow sprang to his feet and waved his pipe in the air in his angry +impatience. + +"You're mad! You drive? Hang it, man, you couldn't drive a team of +fleas. Get up! Get up from that stretcher now, and see how much driving +you could do. See here, Dave, I absolutely forbid you to attempt any +such thing." + +Dave raised himself upon his elbow. His steady eyes had something of an +angry smile in them. + +"See here, Tom," he said, imitating the other's manner. "You can talk +till you're black in the face. I'm going down to-night. Mason's going +to hook the buckboard up for me and fetch Truscott along. I'll have to +take him down too. It's no use in your kicking, Tom," he went on, as +the parson opened his lips for further protest, "I'm going." He turned +again to Mason. "I'll need the buckboard and team in an hour. Guess +you'll see to it, boy. An' say, just set food for the two of us in it, +and half a sack of oats for the horses----" + +"One moment, Bob," interrupted Betty. She had been merely an interested +listener to the discussion, sitting at the far end of the supper table. +Now she came over to Dave's bedside. "You'd best put in food for +three." Then she looked down at Dave, smiling reassurance. From him she +turned to her uncle with a laughing glance. "Trust you men to argue and +wrangle over things that can be settled without the least difficulty. +Dave here must get down to Malkern. I understand the importance of his +presence there. Very well, he must go. Therefore it's only a question +how he can get there with the least possible danger to himself. It's +plain Bob can't go down. He must see the work through here. You, uncle, +must also stay. It is your duty to the sick. We cannot send any of the +men. They are all needed. Well, I'm going to drive him down. We'll make +him comfortable in the carryall, and Truscott can share the +driving-seat with me--carefully secured to prevent him getting away. +There you are. I will be responsible for Dave's welfare. You need not +be anxious." + +She turned with such a look of confident affection upon the sick man, +that, for the moment, no one had a word of protest to offer. It was +Dave who spoke first. He took her hand in his and nodded his great head +at her. + +"Thanks, little Betty," he said. "I shall be perfectly safe in your +charge." + +And his words were ample reward to the woman who loved him. It was his +acknowledgment of his dependence upon her. + +After that there was discussion, argument, protest for nearly half an +hour. But Dave and Betty held to their decision, and, at last, Tom +Chepstow gave way to them. Then it was that Mason went off to make +preparations. The parson went to assist him, and Betty and Dave were +once more alone. + +Betty let her uncle go and then lit the lamp. For some moments no word +was spoken between the sick man and his nurse. The girl cleared the +supper things and put a kettle on the stove. Then, while watching for +it to boil, she was about to pack up her few belongings for the +journey. But she changed her mind. Instead she came back to the table +and faced the stretcher on which the sick man was lying. + +"Dave," she said, in a low voice, "will you promise me something?" + +Dave turned his face toward her. + +"Anything," he said, in all seriousness. + +The girl waited. She was gauging the meaning of his reply. In anybody +else that answer could not have been taken seriously. In him it might +be different. + +"It's a big thing," she said doubtfully. + +"It don't matter, little girl, I just mean it." + +She came slowly over to his side. + +"Do you remember, I once got you to teach me the business of the mill? +I wanted to learn then so I could help some one. I want to help some +one now. But it's a different 'some one' this time. Do you understand? +I--I haven't forgotten a single thing I learned from you. Will you let +me help you? You cannot do all now. Not until your arm is better." She +dropped upon her knees at his bedside. "Dave, don't refuse me. You +shall just give your orders to me. I will see they are carried out. +We--you and I together--will run your mills to the success that I know +is going to be yours. Don't say no, Dave--dear." + +The man had turned to her. He was looking into the depths of the +fearless brown eyes before him. He had no intention of refusing her, +but he was looking, looking deep down into the beautiful, woman's heart +that was beating within her bosom. + +"I'll not refuse you, Betty. I only thank God Almighty for such a +little friend." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +AT MIDNIGHT + + +The silence of the night was unbroken. The valley of the Red Sand River +was wrapped in a peace such as it had never known since Dave had first +brought into it the restless activity of his American spirit. But it +was a depressing peace to the dwellers in the valley, for it portended +disaster. No word had reached them of the prospects at the mill, only a +vague rumor had spread of the doings at the lumber camp. Dave knew the +value of silence in such matters, and he had taken care to enforce +silence on all who were in a position to enlighten the minds which +thirsted for such information. + +The people of Malkern were waiting, waiting for something definite on +the part of the master of the mills. On him depended their future +movements. The mill was silent, even though the work of repairing had +been completed. But, as yet, they had not lost faith in the man who had +piloted them through all the shoals of early struggles to the haven of +comparative prosperity. However, the calm, the unwonted silence of the +valley depressed and worried them. They longed for the drone, however +monotonous, of the mill. They loved it, for it meant that their wheels +of life were well oiled, and that they were driving pleasantly along +their set track to the terminal of success. + +Yet while the village slept all was intense activity at the mills. The +men had been gathered together again, late that night, and the army of +workers was once more complete. The sawyers were at their saws, oiling +and fitting, and generally making ready for work. The engineers were at +their engines, the firemen at their furnaces, the lumber-jacks were at +the shoots, and in the yards. The boom was manned by men who sat around +smoking, peavey in hand, ready to handle the mightiest "ninety-footers" +that the mountain forests could send them. The checkers were at their +posts, and the tally boys were "shooting craps" at the foot of the +shoots. The mill, like a resting giant lying prone upon his back, was +bursting with a latent strength and activity that only needed the +controlling will to set in motion, to drive it to an effort such as +Malkern had never seen before, such as, perhaps, Malkern would never +see again. And inside Dave's office, that Will lay watching and waiting. + +It was a curious scene inside the office. The place had been largely +converted since the master of the mills had returned. It was half sick +room, half office, and the feminine touch about the place was quite +incongruous in the office of such a man as Dave. But then just now +Dave's control was only of the mill outside. In this room he yielded to +another authority. He was in the hands of womenfolk; that is, his body +was. He had no word to say in the arrangement of the room, and he was +only permitted to think his control outside. + +It was eleven o'clock, and his mother was preparing to take her +departure. Since his return from the camp she was her son's almost +constant attendant. Betty's chief concern was for the mill outside, and +the careful execution of the man's orders to his foremen. She took a +share of the nursing, but only in moments of leisure, and these were +very few. Now she had just returned from a final inspection and +consultation with Dawson. And the glow of satisfaction on her face was +good to see. + +"Now, mother dear," she said, after having made her report to Dave, +"you've got to be off home, and to bed. You've had a long, hard day, +and I'm going to relieve you. Dave is all right, and," she added with a +smile, "maybe he'll be better still before morning. We expect the logs +down by daylight, and then--I guess their arrival in the boom will do +more to mend his poor broken shoulder than all our quacks and nostrums. +So be off with you. I shall be here all night. I don't intend to rest +till the first log enters the boom." + +The old woman rose wearily from her rocking-chair at her boy's bedside. +Her worn face was tired. At her age the strain of nursing was very +heavy. But whatever weakness there was in her body, her spirit was as +strong as the younger woman's. Her boy was sick, and nothing else could +compare with a disaster of that nature. But now she was ready to go, +for so it had been arranged between them earlier. + +She crossed to Betty's side, and, placing her hands upon the girl's +shoulders, kissed her tenderly on both cheeks. + +"God bless and keep you, dearie," she said, with deep emotion. "I'd +like to tell you all I feel, but I can't. You're our guardian +angel--Dave's and mine. Good-night." + +"Good-night, mother dear," said the girl, her eyes brightening with a +suspicion of tears. Then, with an assumption of lightness which helped +to disguise her real feelings, "Now don't you stay awake. Go right off +to sleep, and--in the morning you shall hear--the mills!" + +The old woman nodded and smiled. Next to her boy she loved this +motherless girl best in the world. She gathered up her few belongings +and went to the bedside. Bending over the sick man she kissed his +rugged face tenderly. For a moment one great arm held her in its +tremendous embrace, then she toddled out of the room. + +Betty took her rocking-chair. She sat back and rocked herself in +silence for some moments. Her eyes wandered over the curious little +room, noting the details of it as though hugging to herself the memory +of the smallest trifle that concerned this wonderful time that was hers. + +There was Dave's desk before the window. It was hers now. There were +the vast tomes that recorded his output of lumber. She had spent hours +over them calculating figures for the man beside her. There were the +flowers his mother had brought, and which she had found time to arrange +so that he could see and enjoy them. There were the bandages it was her +duty to adjust. There were the remains of the food of which they had +both partaken. + +It was all real, yet so strange. So strange to her who had spent her +life surrounded by all those duties so essentially feminine, so closely +allied to her uncle's spiritual calling. She felt that she had moved +out into a new world, a world in which there was room for her to +expand, in which she could bring into play all those faculties which +she had always known herself to possess, but which had so long lain +dormant that she had almost come to regard her belief in their +existence as a mere dream, a mere vanity. + +It was a wonderful thing this, that had happened to her, and the +happiness of it was so overwhelming that it almost made her afraid. Yet +the fact remained. She was working for him, she was working with her +muscles and brain extended. She sighed, and, placing her hands behind +her head, stretched luxuriously. It was good to feel the muscles +straining, it was good to contemplate the progress of things in his +interests, it was good to love, and to feel that that love was +something more practical than the mere sentimentality of awakened +passion. + +Her wandering attention was recalled by a movement of her patient. She +glanced round at him, and his face was turned toward her. Her smiling +eyes responded to his steady, contemplative gaze. + +"Well?" he said, in a grave, subdued voice, "it ought to be getting +near now?" + +The girl nodded. + +"I don't see how we can tell exactly, but--unless anything goes wrong +the first logs should get through before daylight. It's good to think +of, Dave." Her eyes sparkled with delight at the prospect. + +The man eyed her for a few silent moments, and his eyes deepened to a +passionate warmth. + +"You're a great little woman, Betty," he said at last. "When I think of +all you have done for me--well, I just feel that my life can never be +long enough to repay you in. Throughout this business you have been my +second self, with all the freshness and enthusiasm of a mind and heart +thrilling with youthful strength. I can never forget the journey down +from the camp. When I think of the awful physical strain you must have +gone through, driving day and night, with a prisoner beside you, and a +useless hulk of a man lying behind, I marvel. When I think that you had +to do everything, feed us, camp for us, see to the horses for us, it +all seems like some fantastic dream. How did you do it? How did I come +to let you? It makes me smile to think that I, in my manly superiority, +simply lolled about with a revolver handy to enforce our prisoner's +obedience to your orders. Ah, little Betty, I can only thank Almighty +God that I have been blest with such a little--friend." + +The girl laid the tips of her fingers over his mouth. + +"You mustn't say these things," she said, in a thrilling voice. +"We--you and I--are just here together to work out your--your plans. +God has been very, very good to me that He has given me the power, in +however small a degree, to help you. Now let us put these things from +our minds for a time and be--be practical. Talking of our prisoner, +what are you going to do with--poor Jim?" + +It was some moments before Dave answered her. It was not that he had no +answer to her question, but her words had sent his mind wandering off +among long past days. He was thinking of the young lad he had so +ardently tried to befriend. He was thinking of the "poor Jim" of then +and now. He was recalling that day when those two had come to him with +their secret, with their youthful hope of the future, and of all that +day had meant to him. They had planned, he had planned, and now it was +all so--different. His inclination was to show this man leniency, but +his inclination had no power to alter his resolve. + +When he spoke there was no resentment in his tone against the man who +had so cruelly tried to ruin him, only a quiet decision. + +"I want you to tell Simon Odd to bring him here," he said. Then he +smiled. "I intend him to spend the night with me. That is, until the +first log comes down the river." + +"What are you going to do?" + +The man's smile increased in tenderness. + +"Don't worry your little head about that, Betty," he said. "There are +things which must be said between us. Things which only men can say to +men. I promise you he will be free to go when the mill starts work--but +not until then." His eyes grew stern. "I owe you so much, Betty," he +went on, "that I must be frank with you. So much depends upon our +starting work again that I cannot let him go until that happens." + +"And if--just supposing--that does not happen--I mean, supposing, +through his agency, the mill remains idle?" + +"I cannot answer you. I have only one thing to add." Dave had raised +himself upon his elbow, and his face was hard and set. "No man may +bring ruin upon a community to satisfy his own mean desires, his +revenge, however that revenge may be justified. If we fail, if Malkern +is to be made to suffer through that man--God help him!" + +The girl was facing him now. Her two hands were outstretched +appealingly. + +"But, Dave, should you judge him? Have you the right? Surely there is +but one judge, and His alone is the right to condemn weak, erring human +nature. Surely it is not for you--us." + +Dave dropped back upon his pillow. There was no relenting in his eyes. + +"His own work shall judge him," he said in a hard voice. "What I may do +is between him and me." + +Betty looked at him long and earnestly. Then she rose from her chair. + +"So be it, Dave. I ask you but one thing. Deal with him as your heart +prompts you, and not as your head dictates. I will send him to you, and +will come back again--when the mill is at work." + +Their eyes met in one long ardent gaze. The man nodded, and the smile +in his eyes was very, very tender. + +"Yes, Betty. Don't leave me too long--I can't do without you now." + +The girl's eyes dropped before the light she beheld in his. + +"I don't want you to--do without me," she murmured. And she hurried out +of the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +TWO MEN--AND A WOMAN + + +It took some time for Betty to carry out Dave's wishes. Simon Odd, who +was Jim Truscott's jailer while the mills were idle, and who had him +secreted away where curious eyes were not likely to discover him, was +closely occupied with the preparations at the other mill. She had to +dispatch a messenger to him, and the messenger having found Simon, it +was necessary for the latter to procure his prisoner and hand him over +to Dave himself. All this took a long time, nearly an hour and a half, +which made it two o'clock in the morning before Truscott reached the +office under his escort. + +Odd presented him with scant ceremony. He knocked on the door, was +admitted, and stood close behind his charge's shoulder. + +"Here he is, boss," said the man with rough freedom. "Will I stand by +in case he gits gay?" + +But Dave had his own ideas. He needed no help from anybody in dealing +with this man. + +"No," he said at once. "You can get back to your mill. I relieve you of +all further responsibility of your--charge. But you can pass me some +things to prop my pillow up before you go." + +The giant foreman did as he was bid. Being just a plain lumberman, with +no great nicety of fancy he selected three of the ledgers for the +purpose. Having propped his employer into a sitting posture, he took +his departure in silence. + +Dave waited until the door closed behind him. His cold eyes were on the +man who had so nearly ruined him, who, indirectly, had nearly cost him +his life. As the door closed he drew his right hand from under the +blankets, and in it was a revolver. He laid the weapon on the blanket, +and his fingers rested on the butt. + +Jim Truscott watched his movements, but his gaze was more mechanical +than one of active interest. What his thoughts were at the moment it +would have been hard to say, except that they were neither easy nor +pleasant, if one judged from the lowering expression of his weak face. +The active hatred which he had recently displayed in Dave's presence +seemed to be lacking now. It almost seemed as though the rough handling +he had been treated to, the failure of his schemes for Dave's ruin, had +dulled the edge of his vicious antagonism. It was as though he were +indifferent to the object of the meeting, to its outcome. He did not +even seem to appreciate the significance of the presence of that gun +under Dave's fingers. + +His attitude was that of a man beaten in the fight where all the odds +had seemed in his favor. His mind was gazing back upon the scene of his +disaster as though trying to discover the joint in the armor of his +attack which had rendered him vulnerable and brought about his defeat. + +Dave understood something of this. His understanding was more the +result of his knowledge of a character he had studied long ago, before +the vicious life the man had since lived had clouded the ingenuous +impulses of a naturally weak but happy nature. He did not fathom the +man's thoughts, he did not even guess at them. He only knew the +character, and the rest was like reading from an open book. In his +heart he was more sorry for him than he would have dared to admit, but +his mind was thinking of all the suffering the mischief of this one man +had caused, might yet cause. Betty had displayed a wonderful wisdom +when she bade him let his heart govern his judgment in dealing with +this man. + +"You'd best sit down--Jim," Dave said. Already his heart was defying +his head. That use of a familiar first name betrayed him. "It may be a +long sitting. You're going to stay right here with me until the mill +starts up work. I don't know how long that'll be." + +Truscott made no answer. He showed he had heard and understood by +glancing round for a chair. In this quest his eyes rested for a moment +on the closed door. They passed on to the chair at the desk. Then they +returned to the door again. Dave saw the glance and spoke sharply. + +"You'd best sit, boy. That door is closed--to you. And I'm here to keep +it closed--to you." + +Still the man made no reply. He turned slowly toward the chair at the +desk and sat down. His whole attitude expressed weariness. It was the +dejected weariness of a brain overcome by hopelessness. + +Watching him, Dave's mind reverted to Betty in association with him. He +wondered at the nature of this man's regard for her, a regard which was +his excuse for the villainies he had planned and carried out against +him, and the mills. His thoughts went back to the day of their boy and +girl engagement, as he called it now. He remembered the eager, +impulsive lover, weak, selfish, but full of passion and youthful +protestations. He thought of his decision to go away, and the manner of +it. He remembered it was Betty who finally decided for them both. And +her decision was against his more selfish desires, but one that opened +out for him the opportunity of showing himself to be the man she +thought him. Yes, this man had been too young, too weak, too +self-indulgent. There lay the trouble of his life. His love for Betty, +if it could be called by so pure a name, had been a mere +self-indulgence, a passionate desire of the moment that swept every +other consideration out of its path. There was not that underlying +strength needed for its support. Was he wholly to blame? Dave thought +not. + +Then there was that going to the Yukon. He had protested at the boy's +decision. He had known from the first that his character had not the +strength to face the pitiless breath of that land of snowy desolation. +How could one so weak pit himself against the cruel forces of nature +such as are to be found in that land? It was impossible. The inevitable +had resulted. He had fallen to the temptations of the easier paths of +vice in Dawson, and, lost in that whirl, Betty was forgotten. His +passion died down, satiated in the filthy dives of Dawson. Then had +come his return to Malkern. Stinking with the contamination of his +vices, he had returned caring for nothing but himself. He had once more +encountered Betty. The pure fresh beauty of the girl had promptly set +his vitiated soul on fire. But now there was no love, not even a love +such as had been his before, but only a mad desire, a desire as +uncontrolled as the wind-swept rollers of a raging sea. It was the +culminating evil of a manhood debased by a long period of loose, +vicious living. She must be his at any cost, and opposition only fired +his desire the more, and drove him to any length to attain his end. The +pity of it! A spirit, a bright buoyant spirit lost in the mad whirl of +a nature it had not been given him the power to control. His heart was +full of a sorrowful regret. His heart bled for the man, while his mind +condemned his ruthless actions. + +He lay watching in a silence that made the room seem heavy and +oppressive. As yet he had no words for the man who had come so nearly +to ruining him. He had not brought him there to preach to him, to blame +him, to twit him with the failure of his evil plans, the failure he had +made of a life that had promised so much. He held him there that he +might settle his reckoning with him, once and for all, in a manner +which should shut him out of his life forever. He intended to perform +an action the contemplation of which increased the sorrow he felt an +hundredfold, but one which he was fully determined upon as being the +only course, in justice to Betty, to Malkern, to himself, possible. + +The moments ticked heavily away. Truscott made no move. He gave not the +slightest sign of desiring to speak. His eyes scarcely heeded his +surroundings. It was almost as if he had no care for what this man who +held him in his power intended to do. It almost seemed as though the +weight of his failure had crushed the spirit within him, as though a +dreary lassitude had settled itself upon him, and he had no longer a +thought for the future. + +Once during that long silence he lifted his large bloodshot eyes, and +his gaze encountered the other's steady regard. They dropped almost at +once, but in that fleeting glance Dave read the smouldering fire of +hate which still burned deep down in his heart. The sight of it had no +effect. The man's face alone interested him. It looked years older, it +bore a tracery of lines about the eyes and mouth, which, at his age, it +had no right to possess. His hair, too, was already graying amongst the +curls that had always been one of his chief physical attractions. It +was thinning, too, a premature thinning at the temples, which also had +nothing to do with his age. + +Later, again, the man's eyes turned upon the door with a calculating +gaze. They came back to the bed where Dave was lying. The movement was +unmistakable. Dave's fingers tightened on the butt of his revolver, and +his great head was moved in a negative shake, and the ominous shining +muzzle of his revolver said plainly, "Don't!" Truscott seemed to +understand, for he made no movement, nor did he again glance at the +door. + +It was a strange scene. It was almost appalling in its significant +silence. What feelings were passing, what thoughts, no one could tell +from the faces of the two men. That each was living through a small +world of recollection, mostly bitter, perhaps regretful, there could be +no doubt, yet neither gave any sign. They were both waiting. In the +mind of one it was a waiting for what he could not even guess at, in +the other it was for something for which he longed yet feared might not +come. + +The hands of the clock moved on, but neither heeded them. Time meant +nothing to them now. An hour passed. An hour and a half. Two hours of +dreadful silence. That vigil seemed endless, and its silence appalling. + +Then suddenly a sound reached the waiting ears. It was a fierce +hissing, like an escape of steam. It grew louder, and into the hiss +came a hoarse tone, like a harsh voice trying to bellow through the +rushing steam. It grew louder and louder. The voice rose to a +long-drawn "hoot," which must have been heard far down the wide spread +of the Red Sand Valley. It struck deep into Dave's heart, and loosed in +it such a joy as rarely comes to the heart of man. It was the steam +siren of the mill belching out its message to a sleeping village. The +master of the mills had triumphed over every obstacle. The mill had +once more started work. + +Dave waited until the last echo of that welcome voice had died out. +Then, as his ears drank in the welcome song of his saws, plunging their +jagged fangs into the newly-arrived logs, he was content. + +He turned to the man in the chair. + +"Did you hear that, Jim? D'you know what it means?" he asked, in a +voice softened by the emotion of the moment. + +Truscott's eyes lifted. But he made no answer. The light in them was +ugly. He knew. + +"It means that you are free to go," Dave went on. "It means that my +contract will be successfully completed within the time limit. It means +that you will leave this village at once and never return, or the +penitentiary awaits you for the wrecking of my mills." + +Truscott rose from his seat. The hate in his heart was stirring. It was +rising to his head. The fury of his eyes was appalling. Dave saw it. He +shifted his gun and gripped it tightly. + +"Wait a bit, lad," he said coldly. "It means more than all that to you. +A good deal more. Can you guess it? It means that I--and not you--am +going to marry Betty Somers." + +"God!" + +The man was hit as Dave had meant him to be hit. He started, and his +clenched hand went up as though about to strike. The devil in his eyes +was appalling. + +"Now go! Quick!" + +The word leaped from the lumberman's lips, and his gun went up +threateningly. For a moment it seemed as though Truscott was about to +spring upon him, regardless of the weapon's shining muzzle. But he did +not move. A gun in Dave's hand was no idle threat, and he knew it. +Besides he had not the moral strength of the other. + +He moved to the door and opened it. Then for one fleeting second he +looked back. It may have been to reassure himself that the gun was +still there, it may have been a last expression of his hate. Another +moment and he was gone. Dave replaced his gun beneath the blankets and +sighed. + + +Betty sprang into the room. + +"Hello, door open?" she demanded, glancing about her suspiciously. Then +her sparkling eyes came back to the injured man. + +"Do you hear, Dave?" she cried, in an ecstasy of excitement. "Did you +hear the siren! I pulled and held the valve cord! Did you hear it! +Thank God!" + +Dave's happy smile was sufficient for the girl. Had he heard it? His +heart was still ringing with its echoes. + +"Betty, come here," he commanded. "Help me up." + +"Why----" + +"Help me up, dear," the man begged. "I must get up. I must get to the +door. Don't you understand, child--I must see." + +"But you can't go out, Dave!" + +"I know. I know. Only to the door. But--I must see." + +The girl came over to his bedside. She lifted him with a great effort. +He sat up. Then he swung his feet off the bed. + +"Now, little girl, help me." + +It felt good to him to enforce his will upon Betty in this way. And the +girl obeyed him with all her strength, with all her heart stirred at +his evident weakness. + +He stood leaning on her shakily. + +"Now, little Betty," he said, breathing heavily, "take me to the door." + +He placed his sound arm round her shoulders. He even leaned more +heavily upon her than was necessary. It was good to lean on her. He +liked to feel her soft round shoulders under his arm. Then, too, he +could look down upon the masses of warm brown hair which crowned her +head. To him his weakness was nothing in the joy of that moment, in the +joy of his contact with her. + +They moved slowly toward the door; he made the pace slower than +necessary. To him they were delicious moments. To Betty--she did not +know what she felt as her arm encircled his great waist, and all her +woman's strength and love was extended to him. + +At the door they paused. They stared out into the yards. The great +mills loomed up in the ruddy flare light. It was a dark, shadowy scene +in that inadequate light. The steady shriek of the saws filled the air. +The grinding of machinery droned forth, broken by the pulsing throb of +great shafts and moving beams. Men were hurrying to and fro, dim +figures full of life and intent upon the labors so long suspended. They +could see the trimmed logs sliding down the shoots, they could hear the +grind of the rollers, they could hear the shoutings of "checkers"; and +beyond they could see the glowing reflection of the waste fire. + +It was a sight that thrilled them both. It was a sight that filled +their hearts with thanks to God. Each knew that it meant--Success. + +Dave turned from the sight, and his eyes looked down upon the slight +figure at his side. Betty looked up into his face. Her eyes were misty +with tears of joy. Suddenly she dropped her eyes and looked again at +the scene before them. Her heart was beating wildly. Her arm supporting +the man at her side was shaking, nor was it with weariness of her task. +She felt that it could never tire of that. Dave's deep voice, so +gentle, yet so full of the depth and strength of his nature, was +speaking. + +"It's good, Betty. It's good. We've won out--you and I." + +Her lips moved to protest at the part she had played, but he silenced +her. + +"Yes, you and I," he said softly. "It's all ours--yours and mine. +You'll share it with me?" The girl's supporting arm moved convulsively. +"No, no," he went on quickly. "Don't take your arm away. I need--I need +its support. Betty--little Betty--I need more than that. I need your +support always. Say, dear, you'll give it me. You won't leave me alone +now? Betty--Betty, I love you--so--so almighty badly." + +The girl moved her head as though to avoid his kisses upon her hair. +Somehow her face was lifted in doing so, and they fell at once upon her +lips instead. + + + + + +Popular Copyright Books + +AT MODERATE PRICES + +Ask your dealer for a complete list of A. L. Burt Company's Popular +Copyright Fiction. + + + +Abner Daniel.+ By Will N. Harben. + +Adventures of A Modest Man.+ By Robert W. Chambers. + +Adventures of Gerard.+ By A. Conan Doyle. + +Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.+ By A. Conan Doyle. + +Ailsa Page.+ By Robert W. Chambers. + +Alternative, The.+ By George Barr McCutcheon. + +Ancient Law, The.+ By Ellen Glasgow. + +Angel of Forgiveness, The.+ By Rosa N. Carey. + +Angel of Pain, The.+ By E. F. Benson. + +Annals of Ann, The.+ By Kate Trimble Sharber. + +Anna the Adventuress.+ By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +Ann Boyd.+ By Will N. Harben. + +As the Sparks Fly Upward.+ By Cyrus Townsend Brady. + +At the Age of Eve.+ By Kate Trimble Sharber. + +At the Mercy of Tiberius.+ By Augusta Evans Wilson. + +At the Moorings.+ By Rosa N. Carey. + +Awakening of Helen Richie, The.+ By Margaret Deland. + +Barrier, The.+ By Rex Beach. + +Bar 20.+ By Clarence E. Mulford. + +Bar-20 Days.+ By Clarence E. Mulford. + +Battle Ground, The.+ By Ellen Glasgow. + +Beau Brocade.+ By Baroness Orczy. + +Beechy.+ By Bettina von Hutten. + +Bella Donna.+ By Robert Hichens. + +Beloved Vagabond, The.+ By William J. Locke. + +Ben Blair.+ By Will Lillibridge. + +Best Man, The.+ By Harold McGrath. + +Beth Norvell.+ By Randall Parrish. + +Betrayal, The.+ By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +Better Man, The.+ By Cyrus Townsend Brady. + +Beulah.+ (Illustrated Edition.) By Augusta J. Evans. + +Bill Toppers, The.+ By Andre Castaigne. + +Blaze Derringer.+ By Eugene P. Lyle, Jr. + +Bob Hampton of Placer.+ By Randall Parrish. + +Bob, Son of Battle.+ By Alfred Ollivant. + +Brass Bowl, The.+ By Louis Joseph Vance. + +Bronze Bell, The.+ By Louis Joseph Vance. + +Butterfly Man, The.+ By George Barr McCutcheon. + +By Right of Purchase..+ By Harold Bindloss. + +Cab No. 44.+ By R. F. Foster. + +Calling of Dan Matthews, The.+ By Harold Bell Wright. + +Call of the Blood, The.+ By Robert Hichens. + +Cape Cod Stories.+ By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +Cap'n Eri.+ By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +Captain Warren's Wards.+ By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +Caravaners, The.+ By the author of "Elizabeth and Her German Garden." + +Cardigan.+ By Robert W. Chambers. + +Carlton Case, The.+ By Ellery H. Clark. + +Car of Destiny, The.+ By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. + +Carpet From Bagdad, The.+ By Harold MacGrath. + +Cash Intrigue, The.+ By George Randolph Chester. + +Casting Away of Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine.+ Frank S. Stockton. + +Castle by the Sea, The.+ By H. B. Marriot Watson. + +Challoners, The.+ By E. F. Benson. + +Chaperon, The.+ By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. + +Circle, The.+ By Katherine Cecil Thurston (author of "The + Masquerader," "The Gambler.") + +Colonial Free Lance, A + By Chauncey C. Hotchkiss. + +Conquest of Canaan, The.+ By Booth Tarkington. + +Conspirators, The.+ By Robert W. Chambers. + +Cynthia of the Minute.+ By Louis Joseph Vance. + +Dan Merrithew.+ By Lawrence Perry. + +Day of the Dog, The.+ By George Barr McCutcheon. + +Depot Master, The.+ By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +Derelicts.+ By William J. Locke. + +Diamond Master, The.+ By Jacques Futrelle. + +Diamonds Cut Paste.+ By Agnes and Egerton Castle. + +Divine Fire, The.+ By May Sinclair. + +Dixie Hart.+ By Will N. Harben. + +Dr. David.+ By Marjorie Benton Cooke. + +Early Bird, The.+ By George Randolph Chester. + +Eleventh Hour, The.+ By David Potter. + +Elizabeth in Rugen.+ (By the author of "Elizabeth and Her German Garden.") + +Elusive Isabel.+ By Jacques Futrelle. + +Elusive Pimpernel, The.+ By Baroness Orczy. + +Enchanted Hat, The.+ By Harold McGrath. + +Excuse Me.+ By Rupert Hughes. + +54-40 or Fight.+ By Emerson Hough. + +Fighting Chance, The.+ By Robert W. Chambers. + +Flamsted Quarries.+ By Mary E. Waller. + +Flying Mercury, The.+ By Eleanor M. Ingram. + +For a Maiden Brave.+ By Chauncey C. Hotchkiss. + +Four Million, The.+ By O. Henry. + +Four Pool's Mystery, The.+ By Jean Webster. + +Fruitful Vine, The.+ By Robert Hichens. + +Ganton & Co.+ By Arthur J. Eddy. + +Gentleman of France, A.+ By Stanley Weyman. + +Gentleman, The.+ By Alfred Ollivant. + +Get-Rick-Quick-Wallingford.+ By George Randolph Chester. + +Gilbert Neal.+ By Will N. Harben. + +Girl and the Bill, The.+ By Bannister Merwin. + +Girl from His Town, The.+ By Marie Van Vorst. + +Girl Who Won, The.+ By Beth Ellis. + +Glory of Clementina, The.+ By William J. Locke. + +Glory of the Conquered, The.+ By Susan Glaspell. + +God's Good Man.+ By Marie Corelli. + +Going Some.+ By Rex Beach. + +Golden Web, The.+ By Anthony Partridge. + +Green Patch, The.+ By Bettina von Hutten. + +Happy Island+ (sequel to "Uncle William"). By Jennette Lee. + +Hearts and the Highway.+ By Cyrus Townsend Brady. + +Held for Orders.+ By Frank H. Spearman. + +Hidden Water.+ By Dane Coolidge. + +Highway of Fate. The.+ By Rosa N. Carey. + +Homesteaders. The.+ By Kate and Virgil D. Boyles. + +Honor of the Big Snows, The.+ By James Oliver Curwood. + +Hopalong Cassidy.+ By Clarence E. Mulford. + +Household of Peter, The.+ By Rosa N. Carey. + +House of Mystery, The.+ By Will Irwin. + +House of the Lost Court, The.+ By C. N. Williamson. + +House of the Whispering Pines, The.+ By Anna Katharine Green. + +House on Cherry Street, The.+ By Amelia E. Barr. + +How Leslie Loved.+ By Anne Warner. + +Husbands of Edith, The.+ By George Barr McCutcheon. + +Idols.+ By William J. Locke. + +Illustrious Prince, The.+ By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +Imprudence of Prue, The.+ By Sophie Fisher. + +Inez.+ (Illustrated Edition.) By Augusta J. Evans. + +Infelice.+ By Augusta Evans Wilson. + +Initials Only.+ By Anna Katharine Green. + +In Defiance of the King.+ By Chauncey C. Hotchkiss. + +Indifference of Juliet, The.+ By Grace S. Richmond. + +In the Service of the Princess.+ By Henry C. Rowland. + +Iron Woman, The.+ By Margaret Deland. + +Ishmael.+ (Illustrated.) By Mrs. Southworth. + +Island of Regeneration, The.+ By Cyrus Townsend Brady. + +Jack Spurlock, Prodigal.+ By Horace Lorimer. + +Jane Cable.+ By George Barr McCutcheon. + +Jeanne of the Marshes.+ By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +Jude the Obscure.+ By Thomas Hardy. + +Keith of the Border.+ By Randall Parrish. + +Key to the Unknown, The.+ By Rosa N. Carey. + +Kingdom of Earth, The.+ By Anthony Partridge. + +King Spruce.+ By Holman Day. + +Ladder of Swords, A.+ By Gilbert Parker. + +Lady Betty Across the Water.+ By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. + +Lady Merton, Colonist.+ By Mrs. Humphrey Ward. + +Lady of Big Shanty, The.+ By Berkeley F. Smith. + +Langford of the Three Bars.+ By Kate and Virgil D. Boyles. + +Land of Long Ago, The.+ By Eliza Calvert Hall. + +Lane That Had No Turning, The.+ By Gilbert Parker. + +Last Trail, The.+ By Zane Grey. + +Last Voyage of the Donna Isabel, The.+ By Randall Parrish. + +Leavenworth Case, The.+ By Anna Katharine Green. + +Lin McLean.+ By Owen Wister. + +Little Brown Jug at Kildare, The.+ By Meredith Nicholson. + +Loaded Dice.+ By Ellery H. Clarke. + +Lord Loveland Discovers America.+ By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. + +Lorimer of the Northwest.+ By Harold Bindloss. + +Lorraine.+ By Robert W. Chambers. + +Lost Ambassador, The.+ By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +Love Under Fire.+ By Randall Parrish. + +Loves of Miss Anne, The.+ By S. R. Crockett. + +Macaria.+ (Illustrated Edition.) By Augusta J. Evans. + +Mademoiselle Celeste.+ By Adele Ferguson Knight. + +Maid at Arms, The.+ By Robert W. Chambers. + +Maid of Old New York, A.+ By Amelia E. Barr. + +Maid of the Whispering Hills, The.+ By Vingie Roe. + +Maids of Paradise, The.+ By Robert W. Chambers. + +Making of Bobby Burnit, The.+ By George Randolph Chester. + +Mam' Linda.+ By Will N. Harben. + +Man Outside, The.+ By Wyndham Martyn. + +Man In the Brown Derby, The.+ By Wells Hastings. + +Marriage a la Mode.+ By Mrs. Humphrey Ward. + +Marriage of Theodora, The.+ By Molly Elliott Seawell. + +Marriage Under the Terror, A.+ By Patricia Wentworth. + +Master Mummer, The.+ By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +Masters of the Wheatlands.+ By Harold Bindloss. + +Max.+ By Katherine Cecil Thurston. + +Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes.+ By A. Conan Doyle. + +Millionaire Baby, The.+ By Anna Katharine Green. + +Missioner, The.+ By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +Miss Selina Lue.+ By Maria Thompson Daviess. + +Mistress of Brae Farm, The.+ By Rosa N. Carey. + +Money Moon, The.+ By Jeffery Farnol. + +Motor Maid, The.+ By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. + +Much Ado About Peter.+ By Jean Webster. + +Mr. Pratt.+ By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +My Brother's Keeper.+ By Charles Tenny Jackson. + +My Friend the Chauffeur.+ By C. N. and A. M. Williamson + +My Lady Caprice+ (author of the "Broad Highway"). Jeffery Farnol. + +My Lady of Doubt.+ By Randall Parrish. + +My Lady of the North.+ By Randall Parrish. + +My Lady of the South.+ By Randall Parrish. + +Mystery Tales.+ By Edgar Allen Poe. + +Nancy Stair.+ By Elinor Macartney Lane. + +Ne'er-Do-Well, The.+ By Rex Beach. + +No Friend Like a Sister.+ By Rosa N. Carey. + +Officer 666.+ By Barton W. Currie and Augustin McHugh. + +One Braver Thing.+ By Richard Dehan. + +Order No. 11.+ By Caroline Abbot Stanley. + +Orphan, The.+ By Clarence E. Mulford. + +Out of the Primitive.+ By Robert Ames Bennett. + +Pam.+ By Bettina von Hutten. + +Pam Decides.+ By Bettina von Hutten. + +Pardners.+ By Rex Beach. + +Partners of the Tide.+ By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +Passage Perilous, The.+ By Rosa N. Carey. + +Passers By.+ By Anthony Partridge. + +Paternoster Ruby, The.+ By Charles Edmonds Walk. + +Patience of John Moreland, The.+ By Mary Dillon. + +Paul Anthony, Christian.+ By Hiram W. Hays. + +Phillip Steele.+ By James Oliver Curwood. + +Phra the Phoenician.+ By Edwin Lester Arnold. + +Plunderer, The.+ By Roy Norton. + +Pole Baker.+ By Will N. Harben. + +Politician, The.+ By Edith Huntington Mason. + +Polly of the Circus.+ By Margaret Mayo. + +Pool of Flame, The.+ By Louis Joseph Vance. + +Poppy.+ By Cynthia Stockley. + +Power and the Glory, The.+ By Grace McGowan Cooke. + +Price of the Prairie, The.+ By Margaret Hill McCarter. + +Prince of Sinners, A.+ By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +Prince or Chauffeur.+ By Lawrence Perry. + +Princess Dehra, The.+ By John Reed Scott. + +Princess Passes, The.+ By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. + +Princess Virginia, The.+ By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. + +Prisoners of Chance.+ By Randall Parrish. + +Prodigal Son, The.+ By Hall Caine. + +Purple Parasol, The.+ By George Barr McCutcheon. + +Reconstructed Marriage, A.+ By Amelia Barr. + +Redemption of Kenneth Galt, The.+ By Will N. Harben. + +Red House on Rowan Street.+ By Roman Doubleday. + +Red Mouse, The.+ By William Hamilton Osborne. + +Red Pepper Burns.+ By Grace S. Richmond. + +Refugees, The.+ By A. Conan Doyle. + +Rejuvenation of Aunt Mary, The.+ By Anne Warner. + +Road to Providence, The.+ By Maria Thompson Daviess. + +Romance of a Plain Man, The.+ By Ellen Glasgow. + +Rose in the Ring, The.+ By George Barr McCutcheon. + +Rose of Old Harpeth, The.+ By Maria Thompson Daviess. + +Rose of the World.+ By Agnes and Egerton Castle. + +Round the Corner in Gay Street.+ By Grace S. Richmond. + +Routledge Rides Alone.+ By Will Livingston Comfort. + +Running Fight, The.+ By Wm. Hamilton Osborne. + +Seats of the Mighty, The.+ By Gilbert Parker. + +Septimus.+ By William J. Locke. + +Set In Silver.+ By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. + +Self-Raised.+ (Illustrated.) By Mrs. Southworth. + +Shepherd of the Hills, The.+ By Harold Bell Wright. + +Sheriff of Dyke Hole, The.+ By Ridgwell Cullum. + +Sidney Carteret, Rancher.+ By Harold Bindloss. + +Simon the Jester.+ By William J. Locke. + +Silver Blade, The.+ By Charles E. Walk. + +Silver Horde, The.+ By Rex Beach. + +Sir Nigel.+ By A. Conan Doyle. + +Sir Richard Calmady.+ By Lucas Malet. + +Skyman, The.+ By Henry Ketchell Webster. + +Slim Princess, The.+ By George Ade. + +Speckled Bird, A.+ By Augusta Evans Wilson. + +Spirit In Prison, A.+ By Robert Hichens. + +Spirit of the Border, The.+ By Zane Grey. + +Spirit Trail, The.+ By Kate and Virgil D.+ Boyles. + +Spoilers, The.+ By Rex Beach. + +Stanton Wins.+ By Eleanor M. Ingram. + +St. Elmo.+ (Illustrated Edition.) By Augusta J. Evans. + +Stolen Singer, The.+ By Martha Bellinger. + +Stooping Lady, The.+ By Maurice Hewlett. + +Story of the Outlaw, The.+ By Emerson Hough. + +Strawberry Acres.+ By Grace S. Richmond. + +Strawberry Handkerchief, The.+ By Amelia E.+ Barr. + +Sunnyside of the Hill, The.+ By Rosa N. Carey. + +Sunset Trail, The.+ By Alfred Henry Lewis. + +Susan Clegg and Her Friend Mrs. Lathrop.+ By Anne Warner. + +Sword of the Old Frontier, A.+ By Randall Parrish. + +Tales of Sherlock Holmes.+ By A. Conan Doyle. + +Tennessee Shad, The.+ By Owen Johnson. + +Tess of the D'Urbervilles.+ By Thomas Hardy. + +Texican, The.+ By Dane Coolidge. + +That Printer of Udell's.+ By Harold Bell Wright. + +Three Brothers, The.+ By Eden Phillpotts. + +Throwback, The.+ By Alfred Henry Lewis. + +Thurston of Orchard Valley.+ By Harold Bindloss. + +Title Market, The.+ By Emily Post. + +Torn Sails. A Tale of a Welsh Village.+ By Allen Raine. + +Trail of the Axe, The.+ By Ridgwell Cullum. + +Treasure of Heaven, The.+ By Marie Corelli. + +Two-Gun Man, The.+ By Charles Alden Seltzer. + +Two Vanrevels, The.+ By Booth Tarkington. + +Uncle William.+ By Jennette Lee. + +Up from Slavery.+ By Booker T. Washington. + +Vanity Box, The.+ By C. N. Williamson. + +Vashti.+ By Augusta Evans Wilson. + +Varmint, The.+ By Owen Johnson. + +Vigilante Girl, A.+ By Jerome Hart. + +Village of Vagabonds, A.+ By F.+ Berkeley Smith. + +Visioning, The.+ By Susan Glaspell. + +Voice of the People, The.+ By Ellen Glasgow. + +Wanted--A Chaperon.+ By Paul Leicester Ford. + +Wanted: A Matchmaker.+ By Paul Leicester Ford. + +Watchers of the Plains, The.+ By Ridgwell Cullum. + +Wayfarers, The.+ By Mary Stewart Cutting. + +Way of a Man, The.+ By Emerson Hough. + +Weavers, The.+ By Gilbert Parker. + +When Wilderness Was King.+ By Randall Parrish. + +Where the Trail Divides.+ By Will Lillibridge. + +White Sister, The.+ By Marion Crawford. + +Window at the White Cat, The.+ By Mary Roberts Rinehart. + +Winning of Barbara Worth, The.+ By Harold Bell Wright. + +With Juliet In England.+ By Grace S. Richmond. + +Woman Haters, The.+ By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +Woman In Question, The.+ By John Reed Scott. + +Woman In the Alcove, The.+ By Anna Katharine Green. + +Yellow Circle, The.+ By Charles E. Walk. + +Yellow Letter, The.+ By William Johnston. + +Younger Set, The.+ By Robert W. Chambers. + + + + +[Transcriber's note: Italicized text is indicated with _underscores_; +bolded text with +plus signs+.] + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Trail of the Axe, by Ridgwell Cullum + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRAIL OF THE AXE *** + +***** This file should be named 36522.txt or 36522.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/5/2/36522/ + +Produced by Andrew Sly, Al Haines and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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