CHAPTER XXIIITHE RIOT OF THE LOGS
"We'll have to be quick!" shouted Tom to make himself heard above the roaring of the waters. "Beardown hard!"
"I can't. I'm slipping!" gasped Hippy.
"The gates are moving! Keep it up!"
The two men struggled and fought, gaining a few inches at a time but not enough to permit the jam of logs that was rushing down the stream to pass through the gates in the flood.
At this juncture the Overland girls and the jacks came running down the bank. They saw the two men struggling with the gates, and at the same instant they saw something else. In the reflected light of the moon, they saw a white crest sweeping around a bend in the river, hurling logs into the air, which came tumbling and shooting ahead like huge black projectiles. A warning scream from the girls was unheard by either of the struggling men. A dozen lumberjacks leaped to the cap-log to go to the assistance of Tom and Hippy, who they knew were in great peril.
"Come back! Boys, come back! You can't help them now," cried Grace in an agony of apprehension.
"The fools! Why don't they run?" raged Joe Shafto, and the pet bear growled in sympathy with her at the unusual sounds.
It was a terrifying moment for those who could do no more than stand helplessly watching. The jacks by this time were well out on the cap-log, with Willy Horse in the lead and red-headed Spike close at his heels. They were suddenly halted by a report that sounded like an explosion of heavy artillery.
An advance log, rushing straight towards the gates, swerved when within a few feet of them, and, rearing half its dripping length, hurled itself against the gate-lever at which Hippy and Tom were tugging.
Both saw the giant rise from the boiling flood.
"Too late! Save your—" Tom did not finish. Hippy and Tom at that instant were catapulted into the air, hurled by the gate-lever, and fell into the river below the dam with a splash.
Without an instant's hesitation, Willy Horse, followed by Spike, leaped to the rescue, knowing well that only a few seconds lay between them and the cataract of logs that was about to tumble over into the Little Big Branch below the dam.
The rest of the jacks hesitated only for aninstant, then they too leaped into the river and made their way towards Tom and Hippy, both of whom were unconscious. Willy Horse grabbed up Hippy with apparent ease, and raised him to his own back just as he would shoulder a dead deer.
"Git Big Boss!" he shouted, and began struggling shoreward with his burden.
In the meantime Spike had sprung to Tom Gray, but despite his great strength he did not succeed in shouldering Tom.
"Give a hand here!" he bellowed.
The lumberjacks reached him at this juncture and, together, Spike and his companions brought the unconscious man towards the shore.
Then the spiling gave way under the strain that for several minutes had been put upon it, and the dam went out with a crash and a roar, accompanied by a series of terrifying explosions.
It would have been an awesome sight to the Overland Riders had not their attention, at that moment, been centered on the lumberjacks. The jacks reached the shore only a few seconds before the structure gave way and the logs, hurtled into the air, fell splashing into the flood below the dam. Hippy and Tom were borne up the bank and laid on the ground.
"Are—are they dead?" gasped Emma.
"No," answered Miss Briggs, who had placed a finger on the pulse of each.
"Please carry them to the bunk-house," directed Grace in a strained voice, after Willy Horse had run quick fingers over the heads of the two victims.
"Big Friends bump heads! Much all right soon, mebby," he grunted, walking along beside Hippy as the jacks started with him and Tom towards the house.
It was but a short time after their arrival there, however, when both regained consciousness. Neither Tom nor Hippy knew whether they had been hit by the log that struck the gate-lever, or whether they had been made unconscious by their fall into the water. Both came to in a severe chill and were put to bed in the bunk-house, warmed with hot drinks and blankets, and soothed until they fell asleep.
The lumberjacks stood about awkwardly, and the Indian hovered near, his stolid face reflecting no emotion. Spike was the only jack present who apparently was indifferent to the scene. At midnight Willy motioned to the girls to go.
"Me watch. Big Friends wake up morning. No sick," he said.
"Willy's suggestion is a good one," agreed Elfreda. "There is little the matter with either except shock and exhaustion. Let's go!"
Grace nodded.
"Boys, we thank you very much," she said, turning to the lumberjacks. "Mr. Wingate and Mr. Gray would have lost their lives had it not been, for you and Willy. They will not forget. Neither shall we. Good-night."
At dawn when Hippy awakened, Willy Horse was still sitting by him, puffing his pipe.
"Dam go out," observed the Indian between puffs.
"So I heard it rumored," yawned Hippy.
"Big Friend go out."
"Seems to me that I heard something about that too. How is Captain Gray?"
"Other Big Friend all right."
"Are the jacks awake?" asked Hippy.
"Git up now."
"Tell them to come here."
When the half-dressed lumberjacks came over to his cot, Hippy eyed them sternly.
"You're a fine bunch of ladies' men, aren't you? Dance the light fantastic while your bosses are trying to save the dam."
The jacks grinned sheepishly.
"What are you loafing around here for? Why don't you get out and start work on a new dam? You needn't think a little thing like a busted dam is going to stop Wingate & Gray. Go on now! You know what to do. We two are theonly ones who've got a right to be lazy this morning. Wait a moment! Come back here!" commanded Hippy as his men started to go away.
"I take back what I said. You aren't ladies' men at all. You are a bunch of confounded rough-necks. Shake paws!" Hippy put out a hand, but was sorry for it afterwards, for the bear-like grips of the lumberjacks left it a "pulp," as Hippy Wingate expressed it.
Work on a new dam was begun that very day. Tom and Hippy, though lame and sore, and, at odd moments, a little dizzy, were at the dam all day long directing the work of clearing away the wreck while part of their force cut fresh spiles in the woods. The lumberjacks, wet to the skin, worked with tremendous force and to good purpose, for the organization that Tom Gray had developed and systematized, was as near a perfectly working machine as it was humanly possible to make it.
Day after day the work progressed, but despite their best endeavors two weeks and a half had passed before the gates were again lowered to test the new dam's power to resist a full head of water. Several days more were required to fill the dam until the surplus water toppled over the "dashboard."
For another twenty-four hours the dam was watched for indications of weakness, but none developed. Now that the big work was completedTom and Hippy journeyed to the wrecked dam of the timber-pirates. They examined what was left of it with great care. Finishing their investigation, the two men looked at each other with eyes full of meaning.
"Well, what do you think of it?" questioned Hippy.
"I think, Hip, that it was something more than structural weakness that caused this dam to go out," answered Tom.
"What do you think did it—I mean how was it done?" wondered Lieutenant Wingate.
"Dynamite!" The word came out with explosive force. "The pirates don't like our presence here, so thought they would put us out of business. They didn't know us, did they, Hippy?"
"No. I wonder what they will think now—or do?"
"Nothing in the way of damaging our property, for we shall have our works watched after this. They might blow the upper dam, of course, but there are no logs being held there and the water would simply flow over our construction without doing damage. We must tell Willy what we suspect and assign him to guard duty. An Indian can sleep and yet be on watch."
"Like Hindenburg, who always sleeps with one ear awake," suggested Hippy.
"But never hears anything with it," laughed Tom. "We'll see."
Later in the day when Tom spoke confidentially with the Indian about what the Overlanders suspected, Willy evinced no surprise. He nodded in agreement with Tom that the new dam must be guarded.
It was. Willy slept near it in a lean-to down near the river. For several nights nothing occurred to indicate that there was anyone within miles of the camp. By day Willy hunted, often not coming in until after dark. It was on a Saturday night, however, that Willy failed to reach camp until nearly midnight. On his back he bore the carcass of a young deer that he had shot and dressed miles from the Overland headquarters on the bank of the Little Big Branch. He was nearly in when suddenly he raised his body to an erect position, listened for a few seconds, then dropped his burden and sprinted for home.
The Overlanders long since had turned in and the lumberjacks were in their bunks, comfortable, and as happy as a lumberjack permits himself to be, when suddenly their bunk-house seemed to be lifted free of the ground. It swayed and trembled as a terrific crash rent the air. The tepee toppled over at the same instant, leaving the Overland girls lying in the open. Tom and Hippy, at the time asleep in their lean-to,which was a few yards nearer the river, never were able to decide whether they had been hurled from their beds or had leaped out before they were fully awake. At least, they found themselves outdoors, and some yards from the lean-to.
"For the love of Mike, what now?" gasped Hippy.
Hindenburg was running about in circles, uttering dismal howls, and the pet bear was scrambling for the top of the highest tree in his vicinity.
"It's the dam!" shouted Tom Gray. "They've got us this time!" growled Tom, starting down the bank, followed by Hippy and the yowling bull pup. Hippy saw a figure running from the bank of the river a little further upstream. It was a man, and he was running in short hops, as if he were using a stick or cane to assist him in covering ground rapidly.
Behind the fleeing man Tom and Hippy discovered a second figure. It was Willy Horse. The first figure, as the two Overlanders started for him at a run, had dashed out over the broken and bent spiles of the dam, hopping from one spile to another with remarkable agility, with Willy Horse in close pursuit.
The hopping man, reaching the end of the spiles at the middle of the dam, halted, hesitated, and the Indian was upon him.
"It's Peg Tatem!" cried Hippy. "He's the scoundrel who did this thing."
A knife in Peg's hand flashed in the moonlight, another appearing in the hand of the Indian, and out there on their precarious footing the men stood, thrusting and parrying, with their two-edged blades, watched with breathless interest by the entire Overland party, who had rushed to the river's edge.
A sudden uproar was heard in the direction of the bunk-house. The lumberjacks having discovered that a fight was in progress were running towards the river to see if they too could not get into the fray, for a lumberjack loves nothing in the world so violently as he loves a fight.
"Keep out of it!" ordered Tom as he saw that the jacks were headed for the path that Peg and Willy had taken.
"Tom! Do something!" begged Grace. "Don't let those two men kill each other."
"We can do nothing. Even to call to Willy would take his attention from the battle. You know what that would mean."
"Oh-h-h-h-h!" moaned Emma, toppling over in a faint.
"Oh, Heavens! Look!" wailed Anne.
One of the combatants staggered and swayed. An arm was thrust out at him, but the blade that had been driven against him did not flashin the moonlight, for the body of the wielder was between it and the spectators. Even the jacks stood silent, they having halted at Tom Gray's command, but their breathing was heavily audible.
"He's killed! It's Peg!" cried Grace.
The Indian's victim, following the last thrust, had toppled over into the river below the dam. With a bound, Willy Horse cleared the spiling and leaped to the river bed to finish his victim.
"Willy! Stop!" Grace Harlowe's voice rang out shrill and penetrating, as Willy, the savage instincts of his race having taken possession of his soul, raised his knife-hand above Peg Tatem, who lay on his back on the river-bed.
CHAPTER XXIVCHRISTMAS IN THE BIG WOODS
Willy Horse, brought suddenly to his senses by Grace's scream, hesitated, got slowly to his feet, and stood narrowly watching his opponent who lay, nearly covered with water, moaning faintly. There was ferociousness in the heart of the Indian, but Grace's voice had stayed his hand.
Lumber-jacks, with Tom and Hippy, had plunged into the shallow stream the instant that Grace cried out, and were running towards Willy, now standing calmly awaiting them.
"Did you kill him?" shouted Hippy.
"No kill. Mebby kill bymeby," answered Willy Horse briefly as Tom and Hippy came puffing up to him.
"You have done enough. Let him alone!" commanded Tom, lifting the head and shoulders of the wounded man. "Fellows, carry this man ashore, but don't hurt him!"
Emma, having regained consciousness, was assisted up the bank by Anne and Nora, while Peg was being taken to the bunk-house by thelumberjacks. Elfreda, after a brief examination, did not believe that Peg's wound would prove fatal, but Hippy advised her not to tell the foreman of Section Forty-three of this, saying that he wished to make the man talk, which Peg probably would not do were he to think that his wounds were trivial.
The lumberjacks were ugly, and, had they had their way, they would have promptly finished the job begun by Willy Horse, believing, as they did, that Peg Tatem was responsible for the present and previous disasters that had befallen the Overland Riders in the Big North Woods.
Peg Tatem regained consciousness after Elfreda and Tom had worked over him for more than an hour.
"Did the Redskin git me?" he demanded weakly.
"You're right he did," agreed Hippy. "You might as well tell us all about it now before it is too late. We know what you have done, and that's good and plenty, but you are now going to make a confession and swear to it."
Peg went into a violent rage at the suggestion and pounded the cot with his wooden leg until he was exhausted. Waiting until the fellow had quieted down, Hippy then informed him that in case he recovered, and had not confessed, theywould see to it that he went to prison for a long term. After hours of urging, the foreman of Section Forty-three gave in and made a full confession. Elfreda wrote down his statement and made Peg swear to it, after Hippy had promised that, in the event of his recovery, there would be no prosecution.
Tatem declared that he had acted wholly under the orders of Hiram Dusenbery, of the Dusenbery Lumber Company; that it was his jacks who had turned the skidway loose on the Overland camp, and that it was Tatem himself, acting under orders, who had dynamited the big pine and tumbled it over on the Overlanders. He said that Dusenbery and Chet Ainsworth were partners in the business of timber-stealing, and that the dynamiting was Ainsworth's scheme.
"Why did they wish to be rid of us?" asked Miss Briggs.
"They reckoned they'd spoil yer game. T'other reason was that they wanted this 'ere section fer themselves."
"Good! We will send both to jail," promised Elfreda. "Now what I wish are the names of witnesses who can verify at least part of your story."
After some thought Peg named several lumberjacks, fellows who were still in the employ of the Dusenbery Company. The Overlanders thenceased their questioning to give Peg a much-needed rest, and left him in the care of two jacks, with the reminder that they would be held fully accountable for the safety and good care of the prisoner.
Willy Horse was started that night for the nearest fire warden's station, there to have the warden telephone for a doctor, and also for the sheriff of the county, as it was thought best to hold Tatem as a material witness. The doctor and sheriff arrived late next day. Peg's injuries were found to be quite serious, and it was a full week later before he could be moved to the county jail where he was a prisoner under treatment for two more weeks.
Hippy accompanied Peg, and while at the county seat swore out warrants for Dusenbery and Chet Ainsworth. At the December term of court both men were found guilty and sentenced to serve terms in prison. Peg Tatem, according to agreement with the complainants, was released and advised to seek other fields, which he did.
In the meantime a new dam had been built by Tom and Hippy, and a sawmill established twenty-five miles further down the river. The sounds of the "swampers'" axes and the "saw-gangs" were now heard in the forest from daylight until dark, where huge logs were being felled, trimmed,skidded and rolled down into the new dam, to be "boomed," and released after every thaw in early spring, and sent on their way to the mill.
The Overland girls still lingered. After some discussion they had decided to remain in the woods until after Christmas. By Christmas time the ground and the trees were white with snow, and Tom closed his "cruising" for the season. Willy Horse was absent much of the time, trapping for himself and hunting game for the table of the lumberjacks. The girls were now living in a real log cabin which the jacks, hearing them express a wish that they might have one, had built. Logs blazed in the fireplace, and there the Overland girls, after long hikes in the forest, and occasional rides on their ponies, spent many happy hours.
At Nora's suggestion, an elaborate Christmas celebration, including a Christmas tree, was planned by the girls for the jacks and themselves. Tom, obliged to go to St. Paul on business, more than a week's journey in itself, was commissioned to purchase the supplies and Christmas gifts for the celebration, and returned in a sleigh from Bisbee's Corners, reaching the Overland camp by way of a new trail that his men had cut. He was a regular Santa Claus, except that he rode "behind mules instead of reindeers," as Emma Dean expressed it. Thenbegan the real preparations for Christmas, with many conferences in the log cabin.
Two Christmas dinners were to be laid Christmas evening, one in the new modern bunk-house that had been recently erected, where the old original gang of lumberjacks and a few selected newcomers were then living. Many additional men had been taken on during the early part of the winter when the lumbering operations began on a large scale, and efforts were made to instill into the new men the spirit of the Overland outfit, which the old men long since had absorbed.
The great day arrived. The old and faithful jacks were to sit down with the Overlanders to the spread that was in preparation all that day, Joe Shafto, after much grumbling, laying aside her feud against all lumberjacks and helping the regular cook in his work of preparing the dinner. This was supervised by Grace and Elfreda, while their companions attended to laying the tables and decorating the bunk-house with greens brought in by the jacks.
At seven o'clock that evening, the jacks, who had been put out of the new bunk-house without ceremony, were told to enter. They thumped in, and gazed in amazement at the transformation of their home, at the festoons of pine cones and greens, at the gaily colored lanterns, at the red,white, and blue candles on the table, and at the big American flag suspended from the rafters at the lower end of the room.
The girls disposed themselves about the table so that they might sit with their guests. Hippy took the head of the table, with Spike, who was known by no other name, at his right. Grace had never been able to banish the disagreeable impression that she felt on first setting eyes on the big red-haired lumberjack, and that feeling now seemed to take hold of her more strongly than ever as Spike, shoulders slouched forward and eyes lowered, shuffled to the seat assigned to him.
"Sit down!" ordered Hippy, and all hands sat, Tom taking the seat at the lower end of the table.
There was real turkey, with cranberry sauce, squash, creamed onions, mashed potatoes, celery and a variety of other vegetables, brought from the city by Tom. Willy Horse acted as waiter, Mrs. Shafto declining to unbend to the extent of waiting on "them varmints."
"I'll fodder white folk, and I'll sling a bone to a bear or a bull pup, but no timber houn' of a lumberjack's goin' to git 'chuck' from the paws of Joe Shafto, and that's the end of the argefyin'," she declared, challenging the girls with a threatening glare through her big horn-rimmed spectacles.
There were only a few jacks present, outside of the "original" crowd, as Tom called them, all the others having a dinner of their own in the old bunk-house.
The "talk" at the table was mostly confined to the Overland Riders, their efforts to make conversation with their partners, the lumberjacks, eliciting little more than grunts. The jacks were busy, very busy, and when the time came for dessert, every platter and every plate was empty.
"Pudding! Fetch on the pudding," cried Hippy.
There followed a few moments of waiting while the girls were clearing the table of used dishes, then Willy Horse was seen entering, bearing a huge platter, on the platter a great mound of blazing plum pudding.
The jacks gasped.
"Fire!" yelled a lumberjack.
Every jack in the room leaped to his feet and the next instant they were blowing great, long-drawn breaths at the blue flame that, as they thought, was consuming something that was good to eat. With strong breaths, and vigorous slaps from ham-like hands, they soon put out the "fire," Willy Horse, in a rage, kicking out with his feet at every shin within reach. The Overland Riders were convulsed with laughter, as thejacks solemnly filed back to their seats at the table.
"That's plum pudding, you poor fish!" groaned Hippy.
"Ain't nothin' now," grumbled Spike. "Purty nigh burned up."
Grace composed her face and tried to explain that burning the plum pudding was an old English custom, and that, instead of destroying the pudding, it added to its flavor, but the jacks shook their heads, probably thinking that she was saying this to make sport of them. After the pudding had been served, the jacks tasted it gingerly, then smacking their lips they quickly devoured it. Coffee and nuts followed, and the meal came to an end.
"We will now view the Christmas tree," announced Hippy. "Outside there are millions of Christmas trees, all dolled up with fancy spangles, but they aren't like this tree, as you will see. Pull the string, Emma!"
A real Christmas tree was revealed as Emma Dean draped back the flag, a tree decorated with lights and spangles, its branches bending low under the weight of gifts. A beautiful repeating rifle for Willy Horse brought a grunt from the Red Man, but nothing more. From the base of the tree Emma then picked up a bag, opened it and advanced towards the table.
"A little Christmas gift from Mr. Gray and Mr. Wingate," she said, depositing a ten-dollar gold piece before each lumberjack. Their amazement left them speechless. Some quickly slipped their gifts into their pockets, others merely sat and gazed at the shining pieces of metal for a moment before picking them up.
"Fellows, this is not the bonus we promised you," said Tom. "This is a Christmas present, just a little gift of appreciation on our part. There are socks and boots and other things on the tree for you, and when we have gone you will divide the stuff equally between you. Spike, what's the matter?" he demanded.
Spike had not touched his gold piece, but sat looking at it, drawing in deep labored breaths.
"It's real, better grab while the grabbing is good," urged Hippy.
Spike shook his head and shoved both hands under the table.
The Overland Riders saw instantly that the man was agitated.
"If you don't wish to accept our gift, you need not do so, Spike," said Tom. "We shan't lay it up against you if—"
"It ain't that!" exploded the lumberjack.
"Then what is it, old man?" questioned Hippy.
Spike, rising awkwardly, swallowed hard several times and essayed to speak.
"Talk, if you feel like it. It will do you good," urged Tom kindly.
"It's 'cause I ain't fit ter touch it, that's why," blurted Spike. "Yer wants me t' talk. I'll talk. I ain't fit 'cause I ain't fit, that's all. I'm a thief, and I'm a skallerwag, and I served a term in Joliet prison. I ain't never had nuthin' but kicks and cuffs and dodgin' perlice afore I got inter this outfit. First off, I thought it was soft here—that ye folks was easy, but somehow it warn't. There was somethin' else in the kind o' treatment yer give me that I couldn't git through my haid."
The hair of Spike's head was now a bristling flame of red.
"You're excited. Hook your canthook on the other side and stop the log from rolling before it mashes you flat," advised Hippy.
"I got ter talk now, and then I'll quit and git out fer good. I took money fer ter do ye an inj'ry. I took it from that houn' Ainsworth. I was to tell him 'bout things that was goin' on here and—"
A low, rumbling, menacing growl, at first coming, it seemed, from the very boots of the lumberjacks, startled the Overland Riders. The growl suddenly burst into an angry roar. Acting upon a common impulse, every jack in the room sprang to his feet and made a savage rush for the red-headed Spike.
"Sit down, you rough-necks!" bellowed Hippy Wingate. "This is Christmas. Sit down unless you want me to give you a clip on the jaw!"
The jacks hesitated, drew back, then slouched to their seats, scowling threateningly.
"It'd serve me right if ye fellers beat me up," resumed Spike. "I'm no good. I never was and I'm goin' ter quit onless ye fire me afore I've got through speakin', but I wants ye folks t' know that I throwed that dirty money away, I did. It burned me like no money I ever filched did; it burned me inside and out and I slung it inter the river. I meant ter do ye a measly trick, ye folks, and I did, but I wants ye ter know partic'lar that Chet Ainsworth and that gang of his'n didn't git no information outer me. That's more'n I ever done for anybody afore. Ye've treated me white, ye have, Boss," he said, looking at Tom, "and I've—I've—" Spike gulped and swallowed hard. "I've opined ter do ye dirt."
Spike struggled for more words, and then, to the amazement of his fellows, sank into his seat with tears rolling down his cheeks.
A jack laughed. Hippy fixed him with a stern look. Tom Gray rose gravely.
"Don't laugh, fellows," he admonished. "You have seen one of your own bare his soul, if you can understand what that means. Ittakes a brave man to do that, boys, a man of wonderful courage. I wonder how many of you would have the courage to do the same. I'll have more to say on the subject of Spike in a moment. First, I want to thank you for your loyalty to us. We could not have won out if you hadn't been loyal. We are going to make money, as I have told you before, and you boys who have helped to make it are going to get your share."
"Give 'em a little rough stuff. They'll understand that better than they do this soul business," suggested Hippy, and the jacks grinned.
"As for Spike, he forgot to carry out his threat to resign—" resumed Tom.
"I quit, and I—" interrupted Spike, flushing hotly.
"Sit down!" commanded Hippy, forcing him back into his seat, from which Spike had started to rise.
"Mr. Wingate and I have had several talks about affairs here," resumed Tom. "Among other things, we have decided that we have need of a foreman, a foreman who can get out the work with the new men—you fellows do not need a foreman—and carry out our orders in other directions. Before coming here for this little party, we had already decided on a man for the job of foreman, and I, for one, am glad we picked the man we did, but I want you boys to approveof our appointment. What you saygoes. Stand up!" commanded Tom Gray sternly, fixing his gaze on the red-headed jack, who, from sheer force of habit, obeyed that tone instantly.
"There's the man I've picked," announced Tom, pointing to Spike.
A dead silence greeted the announcement, a silence broken only by the heavy breathing of the lumberjacks, and the shrill voice of Joe Shafto back in the cook-house abusing Willy Horse.
"What do you say, fellows?" urged Tom quietly.
Something seeped slowly into the brain of those rough and ready two-fisted lumbermen. To advance a confessed crook to foreman, a man who had bargained to do a traitorous thing to his Big Boss—it was big, it was unheard of in their rough lives. Even the girls of the Overland party, not one of whom had known of Tom's and Hippy's purpose, felt a thrill, but no one spoke.
"Well, fellows?" urged Tom gently.
"Yes!" The word was uttered in a roar, a mighty roar that was heard in the cook-house and by the lumberjacks at their Christmas dinner in the old bunk-house.
Nora Wingate, carried away by her emotions, sprang to her feet and threw wide her arms.
"Boys! Boys!" she cried almost hysterically.
"You're rough, but you're men—loyal, splendid fellows, and I love you, every one of you!"
Spike, with burning face, bolted for the door.
"Come back here!" bellowed Hippy Wingate. "You've forgotten something," pointing to the gold-piece that lay where Emma Dean had placed it before Spike's plate. "I never did see anyone so careless with money."
The red-headed lumberjack returned slowly, picked up the gold-piece and opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.
"Never mind. Don't say it," smiled Tom. "You may go now."
"Thankee," mumbled Spike, and made a hurried exit. Reaching the door, he broke into a run, never pausing until he had plunged deep into the forest, not to return until long after the jacks had turned in for the night.
Following the new foreman's departure the gifts for Overlanders and jacks were quickly distributed, and, half an hour later, on their way to their own camp, the Overland Riders stepped out into the sparkling night, where, as Hippy Wingate had said, every tree was a Christmas tree, dressed with snapping reflected lights from the moonbeams on the snowflakes. Elfreda Briggs called attention to a dark object at the top of a great pine. It was Henry—Henry in disgrace—Henry who had stolen aturkey from the cook-house and felt the sting of his master's club across his sensitive nose.
June and July disturbed the serenity of the night with two long-drawn, throaty brays.
A snow-bird chirped in the foliage somewhere above the Overlanders.
"What is the little birdie saying, Emma girl?" teased Hippy.
"What is he saying?" answered Emma thoughtfully. "I think, Hippy, that he is wishing us all a merry, merry Christmas and a happy, successful new year."
On the following morning Spike entered the office of the company where Tom Gray was at work on the books.
"Boss," he said, "it ain't right this thing that ye said last night. I been sittin' out thar in the woods all night thinkin'—"
"About being made foreman?" questioned Tom.
"Yes. An' 'bout that other thing. When the fellers laughed an' ye said I was 'barin' my soul,' I didn't have no such thing. But Cap'n! Out thar in the woods, an' God Almighty lookin' down and seein' me thar in the moonlight, I found one. Mebby ye told him to give it to me, but I got it. I didn't un'erstan' then what ye meant. I do now, an' wanted ye to know it. Cap'n! I got er soul!"
Without giving Tom Gray opportunity to make fitting reply, Spike squared his shoulders and shuffled out and called his gang together.
Spike's confession and his new job worked a transformation in him. He no longer wore the surly, hang-dog expression of former days; he walked more erectly and his gray eyes boldly met those of any person who addressed him. The manner in which the red-headed foreman drove the work along throughout the winter, overcoming obstacles and winning and holding the respect of the men, confirmed the judgment of Tom and Hippy that Spike was the right man for the job.
The girls of the Overland party, with Joe Shafto, Henry and the mules, started for home two days later, leaving Tom, Hippy and the bull pup to remain in the woods until spring.
All that winter the big circular saws in the mill far down on the Little Big Branch sang their way through millions of feet of huge logs, cutting them into lumber, and piling up profits for the firm of Wingate & Gray, while the jacks toiled and abused each other, and all bosses—especially their own—and fought with the jacks from rival lumber camps until the end of the season. Each man then received a cash bonus that brought from him a gasp of amazement and a growl of appreciation. WillyHorse and most of the "original" party of jacks were kept at work on the section all during the next summer, again to resume lumbering operations in the early fall.
The further adventures of the Overland Riders will be related in a following volume, entitled "Grace Harlowe's Overland Riders in the High Sierras," the story of an eventful summer's outing. The hold-up of the Red Limited, the capture of an Overlander, strange adventures in the Crazy Lake section, the bowling game above the clouds, the battle with the mountain bandits, and the solving of the mystery of Aerial Lake, make a story of unexcelled interest and swift action.
THE END