CHAPTER XIX
THE UNMASKING OF SLUE FOOT MAGEE
Connie Morgan did not leave the train at Dogfish Spur, but kept on tothe county seat. In the morning he hunted up the sheriff, a bluffwoodsman who, until his election to office, had operated as anindependent stumpage contractor.
"Did you arrest three I. W. W.'s in Mike Gillum's camp on Willow River awhile back?" he asked, when the sheriff had offered him a chair in hisoffice in the little court-house.
"D'you mean those two-legged skunks that tried to brain Hurley when hewas bringin' 'em in fer tryin' to burn out his camp?"
"Those are the ones."
"They're here. An' by the time they got here they know'd they hadn'tbe'n on no Sunday-school picnic, too. Doc swore out the warrants, an' Ideputized Limber Bill Bradley, an' Blinky Hoy to go an' fetch 'em in.'Treat 'em kind,' I tells 'em when they started. But, judgin' by lookswhen they got 'em out here, they didn't. You see, them boys was broughtup rough. Limber Bill mixed it up with a bear one time, an' killed himwith a four-inch jack-knife, an' Blinky Hoy--they say he eats buzz-sawsfer breakfast. So here they be, an' here they'll stay 'til June court.They started hollerin' fer a p'liminary hearin', soon as they got here,but I know'd Hurley was strainin' hisself fer a good showin' this year,an' wouldn't want to stop an' come down to testify, so I worked atechnicality on 'em to prevent the hearin'."
"A technicality?"
"Yeh, I shuck my fist in under their nose an' told 'em if they demandeda hearing, they'd git it. But it would be helt up in Hurley's camp, an'Limber Bill, an' Blinky Hoy would chaperoon 'em up, an' provided theywas enough left of 'em to bother with after the hearin' them same twowould fetch 'em back. So they changed their minds about a hearin', andwithdraw'd the demand."
Connie laughed: "I'm Hurley's clerk, and I just dropped down to tellyou that if those fellows should happen to ask you how you got wind ofwhere they were hiding, you might tell them that Slue Foot Magee tippedthem off."
"If they'd happen to ask!" exclaimed the sheriff. "They've b'en tryin'every which way they know'd how to horn it out of me, ever since theygot out here. What about Slue Foot? I never did trust that bird--nevergot nothin' on him--but always livin' in hopes."
"I happen to know that Slue Foot is an I. W. W., and if these fellowsthink he doubled-crossed them, they might loosen up with someinteresting dope, just to even things up. You see, it was Slue Foot whoadvised them to go to Willow River."
"O-ho, so that's it!" grinned the sheriff. "Well, mebbe, now they'llfind that they _kin_ pump me a little after all."
"And while I'm here I may as well swear out a couple of more warrants,too. You are a friend of Hurley's, and you want to see him make good."
"You bet yer life I do! There's a man! He's played in hard luck all hislife, an' if he's got a chanct to make good--I'm for him."
"Then hold off serving these warrants 'til just before the break-up.When the thaw comes, you hurry up to Hurley's camp, and nab Slue Foot."The sheriff nodded, and Connie continued: "First I want him arrested forconspiring with the Syndicate in the theft of thirty-four thousanddollars' worth of logs during April and May of last year."
"With the Syndicate--stealin' logs!"
"Yes, if it hadn't been for that, Hurley would have made good lastyear."
The sheriff's lips tightened: "If we can only rope in Heinie Metzger! Heruined me on a dirty deal. I had stumpage contracts with him. Then hetried to beat me with his money for sheriff, but he found out that JohnGrey had more friends in the woods than the Syndicate had. Go on."
"Then, for conspiring to defraud certain sawyers by shading their cut.Then, for the theft of three thousand, five hundred dollars from DennyO'Sullivan. And, last, for conspiracy with the Syndicate to steal somethree million feet of logs this year."
The sheriff looked at the boy in open-eyed astonishment. "D'you mean youkin _proove_ all this?"
"I think so. I can prove the theft of the money, and the shading thecut--when it comes to the timber stealing, with the Syndicate's moneyback of 'em, we'll have a harder time. But I've got the evidence."
The sheriff grinned: "Well, when Slue Foot let go, he let go all holts,didn't he? If you've got the evidence to back you up, like you say youhave, Slue Foot'll be usin' a number instead of a name fer the nextlifetime er so."
Shortly after noon of the tenth day, following his departure from camp,Connie stepped off the train at Dogfish Spur, to find Frenchy waitingfor him with the tote-team. "Hurley say, 'you go long an' git de kid.She gon' for com' today--tomor'--sure, an' I ain' wan' heem git all tireout walkin' in.' Hurley lak you fine an' Saginaw lak you, but Slue Foot,she roar an' growl w'en you ain' here. Bye-m-bye, Hurley tell heem 'shutoop de mout', who's runnin' de camp?' an Slue Foot gon' back to Camp Twomad lak tondaire."
The trip up was uneventful. Frenchy's "gran' team" was in fine fettle,and just as the men were filing into the cook's camp for supper, heswung the team into the clearing with a magnificent whoop and flourish.
After supper, in the office, Lon Camden began to shuffle his reports,arranging them day by day for the boy's convenience. Saginaw and Hurleyfilled their pipes, and the former, with a vast assumption ofnonchalance, removed his boots and cocked his heels upon the edge of hisbunk. Hurley hitched his chair about until it faced the boy, and for aspace of seconds glared at him through narrowed eyes.
"Ye made a mistake to come back! Ye dhirty little thayfe! An' meofferin' to lind ye money!" The blood left Connie's face to rush back toit in a surge of red, and his lips tightened. "Oh, ye don't nade topertind ye're insulted," the huge man's voice trembled with suppressedrage. "Ye had me fooled. Oi'd of soon caught wan av me own b'ys in adhirty game--Oi thought that well av ye. But whin Slue Foot com' ragin'down whin he heer'd ye'd gon' for a wake er so, Oi misthrusted there wasa rayson, so Oi tuk a luk at th' books, an' ut didn't take me long tofind out yer dhirty cut-shadin' scheme."
Connie met the glare eye for eye. "Yes," he answered, "it is a dirtydeal, isn't it? I don't blame you fer bein' mad. I was, too, when Ithrew in with it--so mad I came near spilling the beans."
Hurley was staring open mouthed. "Well, av all th' nerve!" he choked outthe words.
"But I held onto myself," continued the boy, "and now we've got thegoods on Slue Foot--four ways from the jack. You noticed I kept a recordof just how much has been shaved off from each man's cut? If I hadn'tyou would never have tumbled to the deal, no matter how long you studiedthe books. We are going to return that money to the sawyers who have itcoming--but not yet. We want those false vouchers issued first. By theway, how much do you figure we've got on the landings, now?"
"Eight million, seven hundred thousan'--and clost to three hundredthousan' layin' down. Th' thaw's right now in th' air--'an we're t'roughcuttin'. Tomorrow all hands wor-rks gittin' the logs to the rollways.But what's that to ye? An' what d'ye mane settin' there ca'm as a lakeon a shtill noight, an' admittin' ye wuz in on a low-down swindle? An-nywan 'ud think ye wuz accused av shwoipin' a doughnut off the cook!"
"I'll come to that directly," answered the boy. "First, I wish you'dsign this contract. Saginaw or Lon will witness the signature. And wecan get it into the mail tomorrow."
"Contrack!" roared Hurley, snatching the paper from the boy's hand. Theboss's eyes ran rapidly over the typewritten page, and with a lowexclamation he moved the chair to the light. For ten minutes there wastense silence in the little office. Then Hurley looked up. "Fiftydollars a thousan'!" he gasped. "Fer an-nything from eight to tinmillion! Tin dollars a thousan', fer an-nything less nor eight million!From th' Syndicate!" With a bellow of rage the big boss leaped from hischair and stood over the boy. "Niver Oi've wanted to paste a man sobad!" he foamed. "Oi said ye wuz shmar-rt--an' ye ar-re. But ye ain'tshmar-rt enough to put this over on me--ye an' Slue Fut--yer game isbushted!" He shook the paper under the boy's nose. "Somehow, ye figgeron soide-thrackin' enough av thim logs to turn in less thin eightmillion--an the Syndicate gits the cut fer tin dollars a thousan'--an'ye an' Slue Fut d
ivoides up the price av the logs that's missin'."
Connie laughed. "You've hit the idea pretty well, boss--only you've gotthe wrong boot on the wrong foot."
"What d'ye mane wid yer boots and futs? Oi see yer game, an' Oi know nowut it wuz Slue Fut had a hand in the lasht year's loosin'. Wait 'til Oigit me hands on thot dhirty cur! Wait--" In his wrath the man hurled thepaper to the floor, and reached for his mackinaw with one hand, and hispeavy with the other.
Lon Camden sat looking on with bulging eyes, and beyond the stoveSaginaw Ed shook with silent mirth as he wriggled his toes in his thickwoollen socks.
"Hold on, Hurley," said Connie, as he rescued the precious contract fromthe floor. "Just sit down a minute and let's get this thing straight. Assoon as the thaw sets in, John Grey will be up to tend to Slue Foot. Iswore out three or four warrants against him, besides what the I. W.W.'s are going to spill."
"John Grey--warrants--I. W. W.'s." The man stood as one bewildered. "An'the kid ca'm as butter, flashin' contracks aroun' th' office, an' ownin'up he's a thayfe--an' Saginaw a-laughin' to hisself." He passed a roughhand across his forehead as the peavy crashed to the floor. "Mebbe,ut's all here," he babbled weakly. "Mebbe thim I. W. W.'s give me wancrack too many--an' me brain's let go."
"Your brain's all right," said Connie. "Just sit down and light yourpipe, and forget you're mad, and listen while I explain."
Hurley sank slowly into his chair: "Sure, jist fergit Oi'm mad. Jist setby quiet an' let ye ate th' doughnut ye shwoiped off th' cook. Don't saynawthin' whoilst ye an' Slue Fut an' the Syndicate steals th' wholeoutfit. Mebbe if Oi'd take a little nap, ut wid be handier fer yez." Theman's words rolled in ponderous sarcasm. Lon Camden arose and fumbled inhis turkey. A moment later he tendered the boss a small screw-corkedflask.
"I know it's again' orders in the woods, boss. But I ain't a drinkin'man--only keep this in case of accident. Mebbe a little nip now wouldstraighten you out."
Hurley waved the flask aside: "No, Oi'm off thot stuff fer good! Ut doneme har-rm in me younger days--but ut kin do me no more. Av Oi ain'tgoing crazy, Oi don't nade ut. Av Oi am, ut's betther to be crazy an'sober, thin crazy an' drunk. Go on, b'y. Ye was goin' to mentionsomethin', Oi believe--an' av me name's Jake Hurley, ut betther be achinful. In the first place, what business ye got wid contracks, an'warrants, an-nyhow?"
"In the first place," grinned the boy, "I'm a partner of Waseche Bill,and one of the owners of this outfit. Here are the papers to show it."While Hurley studied the papers, Connie proceeded: "We got your report,and then a letter from Mike Gillum saying that you were in the pay ofthe Syndicate----"
Hurley leaped to his feet: "Moike Gillum says Oi wuz in the pay of th'Syndicate! He's a dhirty----"
"Yes, yes--I know all about that. Slue Foot is the man who is in the payof the Syndicate--and he borrowed your name." Hurley subsided, somewhat,but his huge fists continued to clench and unclench as the boy talked."So I came down to see what the trouble was. It didn't take me long,after I had been with you for a while, to find out that you aresquare as a die--and that Slue Foot is as crooked as the trail of asnake. I pretended to throw in with him, and he let me in on thecut-shading--and later on the big steal--the scheme they worked on youlast winter, that turned a twenty-thousand-dollar profit into afourteen-thousand-dollar loss. When I got onto his game, I asked for aleave of absence and went down and closed the deal with theSyndicate--or rather, I let Heinie Metzger and von Kuhlmann close a dealwith me. I had doped it all out that, if Metzger believed Slue Footcould prevent the delivery of part of the logs, he'd offer most anythingfor the whole eight million, because he knew he would never have to payit, providing he could get the figure way down on anything less thaneight million. So I stuck out for fifty dollars a thousand on the eightmillion, and he pretended it was just tearing his heart out; at the sametime I let him get me down to ten dollars a thousand on the shortcut--And we don't care how little he offered for that, because _we'regoing to deliver the whole cut_!"
Hurley was staring into the boy's face in open-mouthed incredulity. "An'ye mane to say, ye wint to Minneapolis an' hunted up Heinie Metzgerhisself, an' let him make a contrack that'll lose him three or foorhundred thousan' dollars? Heinie Metzger--the shrewdest lumbermanin the wor-rld. Th' man that's busted more good honest min than hekin count! Th' man that howlds th' big woods in the holler av hishand! An' ye--a b'y, wid no hair on his face, done thot? Done utdeliberate--figgered out befoor hand how to make Heinie Metzger batehisself--an' thin went down an' _done ut_?"
Connie laughed: "Sure, I did. Honestly, it was so easy it is a shame totake the money. Heinie Metzger ain't shrewd--he just thinks he is--andpeople have taken him at his own valuation. I told Saginaw the wholething, before I went down. Didn't I, Saginaw?"
"You sure did. But I didn't think they was any such thing as puttin' itacrost. An' they's a whole lot more yet the kid's did, boss. Fer onething, he's got them three I. W. W. 's locked in jail. An'----"
Hurley waved his arm weakly: "Thot's enough--an' more thin enough ferwan avenin'. Th' rist Oi'll take in small doses." He struggled into hismackinaw and reached fer the peavy that lay where it had fallen besidethe stove.
"Where ye headin', boss?" asked Saginaw.
"Camp Two. Oi've a little conference to howld with the boss up there."
Lon Camden removed his pipe and spat accurately and judiciously into thewoodbox. "The kid's right, Hurley," he said. "Let John Grey handle SlueFoot. All reason says so. If anything should happen to you just beforethe drive, where'd the kid's contract be? He's done his part, givin' theSyndicate the first good wallop it ever got--now it's up to you to doyourn. If you lay Slue Foot out, when John Grey comes he wouldn't haveno choist but to take you along--so either way, we'd lose out."
"But," roared Hurley, "s'pose John Grey don't show up befoor the drive?Thin Slue Fut'll be free to plot an' kape us from deliverin' thim logs."
"Slue Foot's done!" cried Connie. "He can't hurt us now. You see, theSyndicate people furnished him with a paint that looks just like theregular branding paint. When the logs have been in the water a shorttime the paint all comes off--And, last year, with you bossing the reardrive, by the time they got to the mills all the logs they dared tosteal were wearing the green triple X."
"An' ye mane he's got thot wash-off stuff on them logs now?"
"On about three million feet of 'em," answered the boy. "All we've gotto do is to sit tight until John Grey comes for Slue Foot, and then puta crew to work and brand the logs with regular paint and get 'em intothe water." The boy laughed aloud, "And you bet I want to be right atthe sorting gap, when old Heinie Metzger sees the sixth, and seventh,and eighth, and ninth million come floating along--with the redblock-and-ball bobbing all shiny and wet in the sun! Oh, man! OldHeinie, with his eyeglasses, and his store clothes!"
Hurley banged the peavy down upon the wooden floor. "An' ut's proudOi'll be to be sthandin' be yer soide whin them logs rolls in. Ut's asye say, best to let th' law deal with Slue Foot. Yez nade have nofear--from now on 'til John Grey sets fut in th' clearin'--fer all an-nywan w'd know, me an' Slue Foot could be brother-in-laws."
CHAPTER XX
CONNIE DELIVERS HIS LOGS
The following days were busy ones in the two camps in Dogfish. Connieworked day and night to catch up on his books, and while Saginawsuperintended the building of the huge bateau, and the smoothing out ofthe rollways, Hurley and Slue Foot kept the rest of the crew at workhauling logs to the landings. Spring came on with a rush, and the fastsoftening snow made it necessary for the hauling to be done at night.The thud of axes, the whine of saws, and the long crash of fallingtrees, was heard no more in the camps, while all night long the woodsresounded to the calls of teamsters and swampers, as huge loads of logswere added to the millions of feet already on the rollways.
Then came a night when the thermometer failed to drop to the freezingpoint. The sky hung heavy with a thick grey blanket of clouds, a steadydrenching rain set in, and the loggers knew that so
far as the woodswere concerned, their work was done. Only a few logs remained to behauled, and Hurley ordered these peeled and snaked to the skidways toawait the next season.
The men sang and danced in the bunkhouse that night to the wheeze of anaccordion and the screech of an old fiddle. They crowded the fewbelongings which they would take out of the woods with them intoridiculously small compass, and talked joyfully and boisterously of thedrive--for, of all the work of the woods it is the drive men most love.And of all work men find to do, the log drive on a swollen, quick-waterriver is the most dangerous, the most gruelling, and the most torturing,when for days and nights on end, following along rough shores, fightingunderbrush, rocks, and backwater, clothing half torn from their bodies,and the remnants that remain wet to their skin, sleeping in cat-napsupon the wet ground, eating out of their hands as they follow the logs,cheating death by a hair as they leap from log to log, or swarm out tobreak a jam--of all work, the most gruelling, yet of all work the mostloved by the white-water birlers of the north.
Next morning water was flowing on top of the ice on Dogfish, and the bigbateau was man-hauled to the bank and loaded with supplies and aportable stove. Strong lines were loaded into her, and extra axes,pickpoles, and peavys, and then, holding themselves ready to man theriver at a moment's notice, the crew waited.
And that morning, also appeared John Grey, worn out and wet to themiddle by his all night's battle with the deep, saturated slush of thetote road. He had started from Dogfish with a horse and a side-barbuggy, but after a few miles, he had given up the attempt to drivethrough, and had unharnessed the horse and turned it loose to find itsway back, while he pushed on on foot. After a prodigious meal, thesheriff turned in and slept until noon. When he awoke, his eyes restedfor a moment on Connie, and he turned to Hurley: "Quite some of a clerkyou got holt of, this season, Jake," he said, with a twinkle in his eye.
"Yeh," replied Hurley, drily. "He's done fairly good--for a greener. Imistrusted, after he'd be'n in here a spell, that he wasn't just apick-up of a kid--but, I didn't hardly think he'd turn out to be theowner."
"Owner?"
"Yup. Him an' his pardner owns this timber, an' the kid come down tofind out what the trouble was----"
"Y'ain't tellin' me a kid like him----"
"Yup--they come that way--up in Alasky. He's put in a year with theCanady Mounted, too. I ain't a-braggin' him up none, but I'm right hereto tell you that what that there kid don't know ain't in the books--an'he kin put over things that makes the smartest men me an' you everheer'd of look like pikers."
John Grey smiled, and the boss continued: "Oh, you needn't laff! OldHeinie Metzger busted _you_, didn't he? An' he busted a-many anothergood man. But this here kid slipped down an' put a contrack over on himthat'll cost him between three an' four hundred thousand dollars of hisheart's blood. The contrack is all signed and delivered, an' whenDogfish lets go tonight or tomorrow, the logs'll start."
"Where is Slue Foot?" asked the sheriff, after listening to Hurley'sexplanation.
"Up to Camp Two, we'll be goin' up there now. Me an' you an' the kidan' Lon'll go long. An' a crew of men with paint buckets and brushes.Saginaw, he'll have to stay here to boss the breakin' out of therollways, in case she let's go before we git back."
At the edge of Camp Two's clearing Hurley called a halt: "We'll waithere 'til the kid gits Slue Foot's signature to them vouchers. When yegit 'em kid, open the door an' spit out into the snow--then we'll come."
"I'll just keep out these," grinned Slue Foot, as he selected the falsevouchers from the sheaf of good ones, "so them birds don't git no chanctto double-cross me. You've done yer part first rate, kid. There's alittle better than three million feet on the rollways that'll be wearin'the green triple X again they hit the sortin' gap. Von Kuhlmann was uphere hisself to make sure, an' they's goin' to be a bunch of coin in itfer us--because he says how the owner is down to Minneapolis an'contracted fer the whole cut, an' old Heinie Metzger made a contrackthat'll bust this here Alasky gent. He'll be so sick of the timber game,he'll run every time he hears the word log spoke. An' Hurley--he's brokefer good an' all. I be'n layin' to git him good--an' I done it, an' atthe same time, I made a stake fer myself."
Connie nodded, and opening the door, spat into the snow. A moment laterthere was a scraping of feet. The door opened, and John Grey, closelyfollowed by Hurley and Lon Camden, entered the office.
"Hullo, John," greeted Slue Foot. "Huntin' someone, er be ye up heretryin' to git some pointers on how to make money loggin'?"
The sheriff flushed angrily at the taunt: "A little of both, I guess,"he answered evenly.
"Who you huntin'?"
"You."
"Me! What d'you want of me? What I be'n doin'?"
"Oh, nothin' to speak of. Countin' the four warrants the kid, here,swore out, I only got nine agin ye--the other five is on informationswore to by yer three friends down in jail."
With a roar of hate, Slue Foot sprang straight at Connie, but Hurley whohad been expecting just such a move, met him half way--met his face witha huge fist that had behind it all the venom of the big boss's pent-upwrath. Slue Foot crashed into a corner, and when he regained his feettwo steel bracelets coupled with a chain encircled his wrists. The manglared in sullen defiance while the sheriff read the warrants arisingout of the information of the three I. W. W.'s. But when he came to thewarrants Connie had sworn out, the man flew into a fury of impotentrage--a fury that gradually subsided as the enormity of the offencesdawned on him and he sank cowering into a chair, wincing visibly as helistened to the fateful words. "So you see," concluded the sheriff, "theState of Minnesota is mighty interested in you, Slue Foot, so muchinterested that I shouldn't wonder if it would decide to pay yer boardand lodgin' fer the rest of yer natural life."
"If I go over the road there'll be others that goes too. There's them inMinneapolis that holds their nose pretty high that's into this as deepas me. An' if I kin knock a few years offen my own time, by turnin'State's evidence, yer kin bet yer life I'll spill a mouthful." Suddenlyhe turned on Connie: "An' you," he screamed, "you dirty littledouble-crosser! What be you gittin' out of this?"
"Well," answered the boy, "as soon as the crew out there on the rollwaysget the red block-and-ball in good honest paint on the ends of thoselogs, I'll get quite a lot out of it. You see I own the timber."
HURLEY HAD REMAINED AT THE UPPER CAMP, AND AS THE DRIVEAT LAST BEGAN TO THIN OUT, HE CAME FLOATING DOWN, STANDING ERECT UPON AHUGE LOG.]
Just at daylight the following morning the Dogfish River burst itsprison of ice and "let go" with a rush and a grind of broken cakes;breakfast was bolted, and the men of the drive swarmed to the bank wherethey stood by to break-out the rollways as soon as the logs from theupper Camp began to thin out. Connie stood beside the big bateau withthe cook and John Grey and watched Camp Two's drive rush past--afloating floor of logs that spanned the river from bank to bank. Hurleyhad remained at the upper Camp and as the drive at last began to thinout, he came floating down, standing erect upon a huge log. Whenopposite the camp the big boss leaped nimbly from log to log until hereached the bank, where Saginaw stood ready to order out the breakingout of the first rollway. Many of the men of the upper drive had passed,riding as Hurley had done upon logs--others straggled along the shore,watching to see that no trouble started at the bends, and still othersformed the rear drive whose business it was to keep the stranded logsand the jill-pokes moving.
So busy were all hands watching the logs that nobody noticed themanacled Slue Foot crawl stealthily from the bateau and slip to theriver's brink. A big log nosed into shore and the former boss of CampTwo leaped onto it, his weight sending it out into the current. The planmight have worked, for the next bend would have thrown Slue Foot's logto the opposite bank of the river before any one could possibly haveinterfered, but luck willed otherwise, for the moment the unfortunateSlue Foot chose as the moment of his escape was the same moment SaginawEd gave the word for the breaking-out of the first rollway. T
here was asharp order, a few well-directed blows of axes, a loud snapping oftoggle-pins, and with a mighty roar the towering pile of logs shot downthe steep bank and took the river with a splash that sent a wave ofwater before it.
Then it was that the horrified spectators saw Slue Foot, his log caughtin the wave, frantically endeavouring to control, with his calked boots,its roll and pitch. For a moment it seemed as if he might succeed, butthe second rollway let go and hurtled after the first, and then thethird, and the fourth--rolling over each other, forcing the tumbling,heaving, forefront farther and farther into the stream, and nearer andnearer to Slue Foot's wildly pitching log. By this time word had passedto the men at the rollways and the fifth was held, but too late to saveSlue Foot, for a moment later the great brown mass of rolling tumblinglogs reached him, and before the eyes of the whole crew, the boss ofCamp Two disappeared for ever, and the great brown mass rolled on.
"Mebbe ut's best," said Hurley, as with a shudder he turned away, "'tisa man's way to die--in the river--an' if they's an-ny wan waitin' ferhim um back there, they'll think he died loike a man." In the nextbreath he bellowed an order and the work of the rollways went on.
It was at the first of his cleverly planned obstructions that Hurleyovertook the head of the drive, and it was there that he encounteredLong Leaf Olson and the men of the Syndicate crew.
Long Leaf was ranting and roaring up and down the bank, vainly orderinghis men to break the jam, and calling malediction upon the logs, thecrew, river, and every foot of land its water lapped. Hurley had orderedSaginaw to the rear drive, promising to hold the waters back with hisjams, and now he approached the irate Long Leaf, a sack of dynamite overhis shoulder and a hundred picked men of his two crews at his back.
"Call yer men off thim logs!" he bellowed, "Thim's my logs on the headend, an' I want 'em where they're at."
"Go on back to the rear end where you belong!" screeched Long Leaf;"I'll learn you to git fresh with a Syndicate drive! Who d'you think yoube, anyhow?"
"Oi'll show ye who I be, ye Skanjehoovyan Swade! An' Oi'll show ye who'srunnin' this drive! Oi'm bossin' th' head ind mesilf an' Saginaw Ed'sbossin' the rear, an' av ye've fouled our drive, ye'll play the game ourway! What do Oi care fer yer Syndicate? Ye ain't boss of nawthin' onthis river this year--ye' ain't aven boss of the bend-watchers!"
Long Leaf, who's river supremacy had heretofore been undisputed, for thesimple reason that no outfit had dared to incur the wrath of theSyndicate, stared at the huge Irishman in astonishment. Then placing hisfingers to his lips he gave a peculiar whistle, and instantly menswarmed from the jam, and others appeared as if by magic from the woods.In a close-packed mob, they centred about their boss. "Go git 'em!"roared Long Leaf, beside himself with rage. "Chase the tooth-pickers offthe river!"
"Aye, come on!" cried Hurley. "Come on yez spalpeens! Come on, chase usoff th' river--an' whoilst yer chasin' ye bether sind wan av ye down toOwld Heinie fer to ship up a big bunch av long black boxes wid shineyhandles, er they'll be a whole lot of lumberjacks that won't go out avthe woods at all, this spring!"
As the men listened to the challenge they gazed uneasily toward the crewat Hurley's back. One hundred strong they stood and each man that didnot carry an axe or a peavy, had thoughtfully provided himself with aserviceable peeled club of about the thickness of his wrist.
"Git at 'em!" roared Long Leaf, jumping up and down in his tracks. Butthe men hesitated, moved forward a few steps, and stopped.
"They hain't nawthin' in my contrack calls fer gittin' a cracked bean,"said one, loud enough to be heard by the others. "Ner mine," "ner mine,""ner mine." "Let old Metzger fight his own battles, he ain't never donenawthin' to me but skinned me on the wanagan." "What would we git if wedid risk our head?" "Probably git docked fer the time we put infightin'." Rapidly the mutiny spread, each man taking his cue from theutterance of his neighbour, and a few minutes later they all retired,threw themselves upon the wet ground, and left Long Leaf to face Hurleyalone.
"Git out av me road," cried the big Irishman, "befoor Oi put a shtick avgiant in under ye an' blow ye out!" Long Leaf backed away and,proceeding to a point opposite the jam, Hurley seated himself upon alog, and calmly filled his pipe.
"If you think you're bossin' this drive, why in tarnation ain't youbusted this jam," growled Long Leaf, as he came up a few minutes later.
"They ain't no hurry, me b'y, not a bit of a hurry. They'll be anotherwan just a moile above th' mouth. Ut's a way good river-min has got tolet the rear drive ketch up."
"You wait 'til Metzger hears of this!" fumed Long Leaf.
Hurley laughed: "Oi'll be there at th' tellin'. An' you wait 'tilMetzger sees eight er noine million feet av my logs slidin' t'rough hissortin' gap--an' him havin' to pay fifty dollars a thousand fer um. D'yethink he'll doie av a stroke, er will he blow up?"
"What do you mean--eight million--fifty dollars----"
Hurley laughed tantalizingly: "Wait an' see. 'Twill be worth th' proiceav admission." And not another word could Long Leaf get out of him.
During the previous summer Hurley had studied his ground well. Forseveral miles above the jam the river flowed between high banks, and itwas that fact that made his scheme practicable, for had the landextended back from the river in wide flats or meadows, the backwaterfrom the jam would have scattered his drive far and wide over thecountry. It was mid-afternoon when the rear-drive crew came up and thenit was that Hurley, bearing a bundle of yellow cylinders, crept outalong the face of the jam. A quarter of an hour later he came crawlingback and joined the men who watched from the edge of the timber. Fiveminutes passed and the silence of the woods was shattered by a dullboom. The whole mass of logs that had lain, heaped like jack-straws inthe bed of the river, seemed to lift bodily. A few logs in the forefrontwere hurled into the air to fall with a noisy splash into the river, orwith a crash upon the trembling mass that settled slowly into the streamagain. For an instant the bristling wall quivered uncertainly, movedslowly forward, hesitated, and then with a roar, the centre shotforward, the sides tumbled in upon the logs that rushed through frombehind, and the great drive moved.
The breaking of the second jam was a repetition of the first, and whenthe drive hit the big river there were left on the bars and rock-ledgesof the Dogfish only a few stragglers that later could be dry-rolled by asmall crew into the stream and rafted down.
The crew worked indefatigably. Lumbermen said it was as pretty a driveas ever took water. In the cook's bateau Connie and Steve worked likeTrojans to serve the men with hot coffee and handouts that were kept ontap every minute of the day and night.
At the various dams along the great river the boy never tired ofstanding beside Hurley and watching the logs sluiced through, and atlast, with Anoka behind them, it was with a wildly beating heart that hestepped into a skiff and took his place in the stern beside Hurley,while the brawny men of the sorting crew worked their way to the frontof the drive.
As the black smudge that hovered over the city of mills deepened, theboy gazed behind him at the river of logs--his logs, for the most part;a mighty pride of achievement welled up within him--the just pride of awinter's work well done.
News of the drive had evidently preceded them, for when the skiffreached the landing of the Syndicate's sorting gap, the first personsthe boy saw, standing at the end of the platform, apart from the men ofthe sorting crew, were Metzger and von Kuhlmann.
The former greeting Connie with his oily smile. "Ah, here we have theyouthful financier, himself," he purred. "He has accompanied his logsall the way down the river, counting them and putting them to bed eachnight, like the good mother looks after the children. I am prepared tobelieve that he has even named each log."
"That's right," answered the boy evenly. "The first log to come throughis named Heinie, and the last log is named Connie--and between the twoof them there are four hundred and fifty thousand dollars' worth ofassorted ones--you're going to pay for them--so I left the naming toyou."
Metzger s
hot him a keen glance: "How many logs have you brought down?"
"About nine million feet of mine, and about three million and a half ofyours--from your Dogfish Camp--at least that's what we estimated when wesluiced through at Anoka."
Von Kuhlmann had turned white as paper: "Where's Hurley?" he asked in ashaky voice.
CONNIE PLACED HIS HAND AFFECTIONATELY UPON THE ARM OF THEBIG BOSS WHO STOOD AT HIS SIDE GRINNING BROADLY.]
Connie placed his hand affectionately upon the arm of the big boss whostood at his side grinning broadly: "This is Jake Hurley--my foreman,"he announced, and then to the boss: "The old one is Heinie Metzger, andthe shaky one's von Kuhlmann."
"But," faltered von Kuhlmann--"there iss some mistake! Hurley I haffseen--I know him. I say he iss not Hurley! There iss a mistake!"
"Yes, there's a mistake all right--and you made it," laughed the boy."And it's a mistake that cost your boss, there, dearly. The man youhave been dealing with was not Hurley at all. He passed himself off forHurley, and last year he got away with it. Your game is up--you crooks!The three million feet that Slue Foot Magee, alias Hurley, branded withyour disappearing paint, have all been repainted with good, honest,waterproof paint--and, _here they come!_" As the boy spoke, a logscraped along the sheer-boom, and for a moment all eyes rested upon thered block-and-ball, then instantly lifted to the thousands of logs thatfollowed it.
Several days later when the boom scale had been verified, Connie againpresented himself at the office of the Syndicate and was shownimmediately to Metzger's private room. The magnate received him withdeference, even placing a chair for him with his own hands. "I hardlyknow how to begin, _Herr_ Morgan----"
"_Connie Morgan_," snapped the boy. "And as far as I can see you canbegin by dating a check for four hundred and forty-eight thousand, threehundred and twenty dollars--and then you can finish by signing it, andhanding it over."
"But, my dear young man, the price is exorbitant--my stockholders inGermany--they will not understand. It will be my ruin."
"Why did you agree to it then? Why did you sign the contract?"
"Ah, you do not understand! Allow me----"
"I understand this much," said Connie, his eyes flickering with wrath,"that you'd have held me to my bargain and taken my logs for ten dollarsa thousand, and ruined me, if I hadn't been wise to your dirty game."
"Ah, no! We should have adjusted--should have compromised. I wouldhave been unwilling to see you lose! And yet, you would see melose--everything--my position--my friends in Germany--surely your heartis not so hard. There should be fellowship among lumbermen----"
"Is that the reason you ruined John Grey, and Lige Britton, and LafeWeston, and poor old Jim Buck? Every one of them as square a man as everlived--and every one of them an independent logger, 'til you ruinedthem! What did you answer when they sat right in this office and beggedfor a little more time--a little more credit--a little waiver of tollhere and there? Answer me that! You bloodsucking weasel!" The cowardlywhine of the beaten German made the boy furious. He was upon his feet,now, pounding the desk with his fist.
A crafty gleam shot from Metzger's eyes, and abruptly he changed histactics: "Let us not abuse each other. It is probable we can come to anagreement. You are smart. Come in with us. I can use you--in vonKuhlmann's place. I paid von Kuhlmann eighteen-hundred a year. Make aconcession to me on the contract and I will employ you with a ten yearcontract, at ten thousand a year. We are a big corporation; we willcrush out the little ones! I can even offer you stock. We will tightenour grip on the timber. We will show these Americans----"
"Yes," answered the boy, his voice trembling with fury, "we'll showthese Americans--we'll show 'em what _fools_ they are to allow a lot ofwolves from across the water to come over here and grab off the bestwe've got. I'm an American! And I'm proud of it! And what's more, I'llgive you just five minutes to write that check, Metzger, and if it isn'tin my hands when the time's up, I'll get out an attachment that'll tieup every dollar's worth of property you own in the State, from the millsto your farthest camp. I'll tie up your logs on the rollways--and by thetime you get the thing untangled you won't have water enough to getthem to the river. You've got three minutes and a half left."
Slowly, with shaking fingers, Metzger drew the check, and without aword, passed it over to Connie, who studied it minutely, and then thrustit into his pocket. At the door he turned and looked back at Metzger whohad sloughed low in his chair.
"If you'd listened to those other men--John Grey and the others you'vebusted, when they were asking for favours that meant nothing to you, butmeant ruin to them if you withheld them--if you'd played the game squareand decent--you wouldn't be busted now. And, when you get back toGermany, you might tell your friends over there that unless they changetheir tactics, someday, something is going to happen that will wakeAmerica up! And if you're a fair specimen of your kind, when Americadoes wake up, it will be good-bye Germany!" And as the door slammed uponthe boy's heels, Metzger for a reason unaccountable to himselfshuddered.
THE END
Connie Morgan with the Mounted
By
James B. Hendryx
Author of "Connie Morgan in Alaska"
_Illustrated._
It tells how "Sam Morgan's Boy," well known to readers of Mr. Hendryx's"Connie Morgan in Alaska," daringly rescued a man who was rushingto destruction on an ice floe and how, in recognition of hisquick-wittedness and nerve, he was made a Special Constable in theNorthwest Mounted Police, with the exceptional adventures that fell tohis lot in that perilous service. It is a story of the northernwilderness, clean and bracing as the vigorous, untainted winds thatsweep over that region; the story of a boy who wins out against thecraft of Indians and the guile of the bad white man of the North; thestory of a boy who succeeds where men fail.
Connie Morgan in Alaska
By
James B. Hendryx
Author of "The Promise," "The Law of the Woods," etc.
_12o. Over twenty illustrations_
Mr. Hendryx, as he has ably demonstrated in his many well-known tales,knows his Northland thoroughly, but he has achieved a reputation as awriter possibly "too strong" for the younger literary digestion. It is adelight, therefore, to find that he can present properly, in a capitalstory of a boy, full of action and adventure, and one in whom boysdelight, the same thorough knowledge of people and customs of the North.
The Quest of the Golden Valley
By
Belmore Browne
Author of "The Conquest of Mount McKinley"
_12o. Eight full-page illustrations_
The story of a search for treasure which lies guarded by the fastnessesof nature in the ragged interior of Alaska. The penetration of thesewilds by the boys who are the heroes of the story is a thrillingnarrative of adventure, and with every step of the journey the lore ofthe open is learned. The reader follows them through the mountainswreathed in misty enchantment, over swollen rivers, into invitingvalleys, until the great discovery of gold is made, and then theadventure does not close but may be said to reach its height, for a wilygood-for-nothing, who, under false pretenses, has inveigled in hisscheme some men innocent of wicked intent, attempts to steal the prize,and there follows a race of days through the northland, involvinginnumerable dangers and culminating in a splendid rescue.
The White Blanket
By
Belmore Brown
Author of "The Quest of the Golden Valley," etc.
_12o. Illustrated_
A sequel to _The Quest of the Golden Valley_, this time taking the chumsthrough the vicissitudes of an Alaskan winter. They trap the manyfur-bearing animals, hunt the big game, camp with the Indians, dodog-driving, snow-shoeing, etc. With the coming of spring they descendone of the wilderness rivers on a raft and at the eleventh hour, afterbeing wrecked in a dangerous canyon, they discover a fabulous quartzlode, and succeed in reaching the sea coast.
G. P. Putnam's Sons New York London
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p; Transcriber's Notes:
Punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominantpreference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.
Simple typographical errors were corrected.
Illustrations have been moved closer to the relevant text.
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