JOAN OF ARC OF THE NORTH WOODS

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BOOKS BY HOLMAN DAY

 JOAN OF ARC OF THE NORTH WOODS WHEN EGYPT WENT BROKE ALL-WOOL MORRISON THE RIDER OF THE KING LOG THE SKIPPER AND THE SKIPPED THE RED LANE THE RAMRODDERS THE LANDLOPER WHERE YOUR TREASURE IS SQUIRE PHIN BLOW THE MAN DOWN

 Harper & Brothers Publishers New York and London

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JOAN OF ARC OF THE NORTH WOODS

by

HOLMAN DAY

Author of"The Rider of the King Log, " "WhenEgypt Went Broke, " Etc. 

Harper & Brothers, PublishersNew York and London

Joan of Arc of the North Woods

Copyright, 1922By Harper & BrothersPrinted in the U. S. A. 

First Edition H-W

_Joan of Arc of the North Woods_

CHAPTER ONE

The timber situation in the Tomah country was surcharged. 

When Ward Latisan came upon Rufus Craig, one afternoon in autumn, steelstruck flint and trouble's fuse was lighted. 

Their meeting was on the Holeb tote road just below Hagas Falls. 

Young Ward was the grandson of old John, a pioneer who was in his day asaw-log baron of the times of pumpkin pine; by heredity Ward was theforemost champion in the cause of the modern independent operators. 

In his own way, Craig, the field director of the Comas ConsolidatedPaper Company, was the chief gladiator for an invading corporation whichdemanded monopoly of the Tomah timber by absorption of the independents. 

Latisan tramped down the tote road from the shoulder of Holeb Mountain, where he had been cruising alone for a week on the Walpole tract, blazing timber for the choppers, marking out twitch roads andhaul-downs, locating yards; his short-handled ax was in his belt, hislank haversack flapped on his back; he carried his calipers in one hand;with the other hand he fed himself raisins from his trousers pocket, munching as he went along. He had eaten the last of his scanty supply ofbiscuits and bacon; but, like other timber cruisers--all of them musttravel light--he had his raisins to fall back on, doling them one byone, masticating them thoroughly and finding the nourishment adequate. 

He had been on the go every day from sunup till dark; nights he cinchedhis belted jacket closely and slept as best he could, his back against atree; he had cruised into every nook and corner of the tract, spendingstrength prodigally, but when he strode down the tote road his vitalityenabled him to hit it off at a brisk gait; his belt was a few holestighter, yet his fasting made him keenly awake; he was more alert to thejoy of being alive in the glory of the crisp day; his cap was in hispocket, his tousled brown hair was rampant; and he welcomed the flood ofsunshine on his bronzed face. 

Craig was making his way along the tote road in a buckboard, with adriver. The road bristled with rocks and was pitted with hollows; thefat horses dragged their feet at a slow walk. Craig was a big man, a bitpaunchy, and he grunted while he was bounced. He wore his city hard hatas if he wished by his headgear to distinguish himself from the herd ofwoodsmen whom he bossed. 

Latisan overtook the toiling buckboard, and his stride was taking himpast when Craig hailed. 

"Ride?"

"No--thank you!" The negative was sharp. Privation and toil had put anedge on the young man's temper, and the temper was not amiable whereCraig was concerned. 

"I've got some business to talk with you, Latisan. "

"If that's so I can listen while I walk alongside. "

But Craig ordered the driver to halt. Then the Comas director swungaround and faced Latisan. "I'm putting it up to you again--will you andyour father sell to the Comas?"

"No, sir!"

"What is it going to be--a fight to a finish?"

"If you keep your hands off us saw-log fellows, Mr. Craig, there'll beno fight. We were here first, you know!"

"That's got nothing to do with the present situation, Latisan. We'vebuilt a million-dollar paper mill on the Toban, and it's up to me tofeed it with pulp stuff. We can't lug our plant off in a shawl strap ifsupply fails. "

"Nor can the folks who have built villages around the sawmills lug awaytheir houses if the mills are closed. "

"Paper dominates in this valley nowadays, instead of lumber. Latisan, you're old-fashioned!"

The young man, feeling his temper flame, lighted his pipe, avoiding tooquick retort. 

"You stand to lose money in the lumber market, with conditions as theyare, " proceeded Craig, loftily counseling another man about his ownbusiness. The Comas director, intent on consolidation, had persistentlyfailed to understand the loyalty, half romantic, which was actuating theold-line employers to protect faithful householders. "Let the workersmove down the river to our model town. "

"And live in those beehives of yours, paying big rent, competing withthe riffraff help you hire from employment agencies? We can't see itthat way, Mr. Craig!"

"Look here! I've got some news for you. I've just pulled five of theindependents in with us--Gibson, Sprague, Tolman, Brinton, and Bodwell. The Comas now controls the timber market on the Toban. How about logsfor your mills?"

Craig believed he was hitting Latisan five solid jolts to the jaw whenhe named the recreant operators. 

However, the young man had heard rumors of what the bludgeoning methodsof the Comas had accomplished; he surveyed Craig resolutely through thepipe smoke. 

He had come down from the Walpole tract that day in a spirit of newconfidence which put away all weariness from him. He was armed with apowerful weapon. In his exultation, fired by youth's natural hankeringto vaunt success in an undertaking where his elders had failed, he waswilling to flourish the weapon. 

Craig waggled a thick forefinger. "What are you going to saw, Latisan?"

"Two million feet from the Walpole tract--where no ax has chipped a treefor twenty-five years. "

It was a return jolt and it made the Comas man blink. "But nobody canbuy the right to cut there. "

"I have bought the right, Mr. Craig. An air-tight stumpagecontract--passed on by the best lawyer in this county--a clear title. "

"Latisan, the Comas has never been able to round up those heirs--andwhat we can't do with all our resources can't be done by you. "

"The Latisans know this region better than the Comas folks know it, sir. Five cousins by hard hunting--two gravestones by good luck! All heirslocated! Why don't you congratulate me?"

Just then the Comas director was thinking instead of talking. 

In his operations he was a cocksure individual, Mr. Craig was! In hishands, by his suggestion, his New York superiors had placed all thedetails of business in the field of the north country. He had promisedconsolidation with full belief in his ability to perform; one explicitpromise had been that this season would mark the end of the oppositionby the independents; the Comas would secure complete control of theToban timber and fix prices. But here were the ringleader Latisans in away to smash the corner which Craig had manipulated by bulldozing andbribery! In the past Craig had not bothered headquarters with any minuteexplanations of how he accomplished results. This crusher whichthreatened all his plans and promises would make a monkey of him in NewYork, he reflected. 

"I want to say a last word to you, Mr. Craig, " continued Latisan, stiffly. "Probably we are now in for that fight on which you've beeninsisting. I don't want to fight, but I'm ready for a fair stand-up. Just a moment, please!" Craig had barked a few oaths preliminary to anoutpouring of his feelings. "I'm warning you to let up on thoseguerrilla tactics of yours. I propose to find out whether your big menin New York are backing you. I'm telling you now to your face, so youcan't accuse me later of carrying tales behind your back, of myintention to go to New York and report conditions to the president ofthe Comas. "

"Don't you dare!"

"I do dare. I'm going. I expect you to run in ahead of me, but nomatter. And speaking of tales behind a man's back----"

Craig was having difficulty in finding speech for retort; Latisan wasrushing the affair. Again Craig blustered, "Don't you dare!"

"Yes, I do dare. When I went away last summer I had good reasons forkeeping my plans to myself. I got back to the Toban and found slanderaccusing me of sporting in the city, deviling around with liquor andwomen. That's a damnable lie!"

Latisan delivered the accusation hotly; there was unmistakable challengein his demeanor. "You yourself have handed around some of that slander, Mr. Craig. I get it straight from men whose word is good!"

"I only said what others were saying. "

"I don't know, of course, who started those stories, but I do know thatthey have been used against me. They have helped you, it seems! I wantedto keep my plans under cover--but I've got to protect myself with thetruth, even if the truth gives you a tip. I went away to take a specialcourse in hydraulic engineering, so as to know more about protecting thecommon rights in the flowage of this river. " He swung his hand toindicate the thundering falls of Hagas. "You have used your tongue tohurt my standing with some of the independents--they distrust myreliability and good faith--you have pulled in a few of them. The otherswill stand by me. Frankly, Mr. Craig, I don't like your style! It'll bea good thing for both of us if we have no more talk after this. " Hewalked rapidly down the tote road, not turning his head when Craigcalled furiously after him. 

"Pretty uppish, ain't he?" ventured the driver, touching the horses withthe whip. 

Craig, bouncing alone on the middle seat of the buckboard, grunted. 

"Excuse me, Mr. Craig, but that's some news--what he said about gettingaholt of the old Walpole tract. "

The Comas boss did not comment. 

The driver said nothing more for some time; he was a slouchy woodsman ofnumb wits; he chewed tobacco constantly with the slow jaw motion of aruminating steer, and he looked straight ahead between the ears of thenigh horse, going through mental processes of a certain sort. "Now 't Ithink of it, I wish I'd grabbed in with a question to young Latisan. Buthe doesn't give anybody much of a chance to grab in when he's talking. Still, I'd have liked to ask him something. " He maundered on in thatstrain for several minutes. 

"Ask him what?" snapped Craig, tired of the monologue. 

"Whuther he's talked with my old aunt Dorcas about the heir who wentoff into the West somewheres. Grandson of the old sir who was the firstWalpole of the Toban--real heir, if he's still alive! My aunt Dorcas hadletters about him, or from him, or something like that, only a few yearsago. "

"Look here!" stormed Craig. "Why haven't you said something about suchletters or such an heir?"

"Nobody has ever asked me. And he's prob'ly dead, anyway. Them lawyersknow everything. And he's a roving character, as I remember what my auntsaid. No use o' telling anybody about him--it would cost too much tofind him. "

"Cost too much!" snarled the Comas director. "Oh, you----" But he chokedback what he wanted to say about the man's intellect. Craig pulled outnotebook and pencil and began to fire questions. 

Latisan was headed for home, the old family mansion in the village ofToban Deadwater where Ward and his widowed father kept bachelor's hall, with a veteran woods cook to tend and do for them. The male cook wasWard's idea. The young man had lived much in the woods, and the ways ofwomen about the house annoyed him; a bit of clutter was morecomfortable. 

It was a long tramp to the Deadwater, but he knew the blazed-trail shortcuts and took advantage of the light of the full moon for the last stageof the journey. He was eager to report progress and prospects to hisfather. 

Ward was not anticipating much in the way of practical counsel fromGarry Latisan. 

Old John had been a Tartar, a blustering baron of the timberlands. 

Garry, his son, had taken to books and study. He was slow and mild, deprecatory and forgiving. Ward Latisan had those saving qualities in ameasure, but he was conscious in himself of the avatar of old John'srighteous belligerency when occasion prompted. 

Ward, as he was trudging home, was trying to keep anger from cloudinghis judgment. When he felt old John stirring in him, young Latisansought the mild counsel of Garry, and then went ahead on a line ofaction of his own; he was steering a safe course, he felt, by keepingabout halfway between John's violence in performance and Garry'stoleration. 

Ward was the executive of the Latisan business and liked the job; hisyouth and vigor found zest in the adventures of the open. Old John'stimber man's spirit had been handed along to the grandson. Ward finishedhis education at a seminary--and called it enough. His father urged himto go to college, but he went into the woods and was glad to be there, at the head of affairs. 

The operations on the old tracts, thinned by many cuttings, had beenkeeping him closely on the job, because there were problems to be solvedif profits were to be handled. 

His stroke in getting hold of the Walpole tract promised profits withoutproblems; there were just so many trees to cut down--and the river washandy!

In spite of his weariness, Ward sat till midnight on the porch with hisfather, going over their plans. The young man surveyed the Latisan milland the houses of the village while he talked; the moon lighted all andthe mill loomed importantly, reflected in the still water of the pond. If Craig prevailed, the mill and the homes must be left to rot, empty, idle, and worthless. As Ward viewed it, the honor of the Latisans was atstake; the spirit of old John blazed in the grandson; but he declaredhis intention to fight man fashion, if the fight were forced on him. Hewould go to the Comas headquarters in New York, he said, not to ask forodds or beg for favors, but to explain the situation and to demand thatCraig be required to confine himself to the tactics of square businessrivalry. 

"And my course in engineering was a good investment; I can talk turkeyto them about our dams and the flowage rights. I don't believe they'rebacking up Craig's piracy!"

Garry Latisan agreed fully with his son and expressed the wistful wish, as he did regularly in their conferences, that he could be of more realhelp. 

"Your sympathy and your praise are help enough, father, " Ward declared, with enthusiasm. "We're sure of our cut; all I'm asking from the Comasis gangway for our logs. There must be square men at the head of thatbig corporation!"

CHAPTER TWO

In New York young Latisan plunged straight at his business. 

The home office of the Comas Consolidated Company was in a toweringstructure in the metropolis's financial district. On the translucentglass of many doors there was a big C with two smaller C's nested. Inthe north country everybody called the corporation The Three C's. 

After a fashion, the sight of the portentous monogram made Ward feelmore at home. Up where he lived the letters were familiar. Those nestedC's stood for wide-flung ownership along the rivers of the north. Themonogram was daubed in blue paint on the ends of countless logs; itmarked the boxes and barrels and sacks of mountains of supplies alongthe tote roads; it designated as the property of the Comas Company allsorts of possessions from log camps down to the cant dog in the hands ofthe humblest Polack toiler. Those nested C's were dominant, assertive, and the folks of the north were awed by the everlasting reduplicationalong the rivers and in the forests. 

Ward, indignantly seeking justice, resolved not to be awed in the castleof the giant. He presented himself at a gate and asked to see thepresident. The president could not be seen except by appointment, Latisan learned. 

What was the caller's business? Latisan attempted to explain, but hewas halted by the declaration that all details in the timber countrywere left to Rufus Craig, field manager!

When Ward insisted that his previous talks with Craig had only madematters worse for all concerned, and when he pleaded for an opportunityto talk with somebody--anybody--at headquarters, he finally won his wayto the presence of a sallow man who filmed his hard eyes and listenedwith an air of silent protest. He also referred Latisan back to Craig. "We don't interfere with his management of details in the north. "

Evidently Mr. Craig had been attending to his defenses in the homeoffice. 

Ward's temper was touched by the listener's slighting apathy. "I've comehere to protest against unfair methods. Our men are tampered with--toldthat the Latisans are on their last legs. We are losing from our crewsright along. We have been able to hire more men to take the places ofthose who have been taken away from us. But right now we are up againstpersistent reports that we shall not be able to get down our cut in thespring. Sawmill owners are demanding bonds from us to assure delivery;otherwise they will cancel their orders. "

"Do you know any good reason why you can't deliver?" probed the Comasman, showing a bit of interest. 

"Your Mr. Craig seems to know. I blame him for these stories. "

"I'm afraid you're laboring under a delusion, Mr. Latisan. Why don'tyou sell out to our company? Most of the other independents have foundit to their advantage--seen it in the right light. "

"Mr. Craig's tactics have driven some small concerns to see it that way, sir. But my grandfather was operating in the north and supplying thesawmills with timber before the paper mills began to grab off every treebig enough to prop a spruce bud. Villages have been built up around thesawmills. If the paper folks get hold of everything those villages willdie; all the logs will be run down to the paper mills. "

"Naturally, " said the sallow man. "Paper is king these days. "

Then he received a handful of documents from a clerk who entered, againreferred Ward to Mr. Craig, advised him to treat with the latter in thefield, where the business belonged, and hunched a dismissing shouldertoward the caller. 

Ward had not been asked to sit down; he swung on his heel, but hestopped and turned. "As to selling out, even if we can bring ourselvesto that! Mr. Craig has beaten independents to their knees and has madethem accept his price. It's not much else than ruin when a man sells tohim. "

"Persecutional mania is a dangerous hallucination, " stated the sallowman. "Mr. Craig has accomplished certain definite results in the northcountry. We have used the word Consolidated in our corporation name withfull knowledge of what we are after. We assure stable conditions in thetimber industry. You must move with the trend of the times. "

Latisan had been revolving in his mind certain statements which heproposed to make to the big men of the Comas. He had assorted andclassified those statements before he entered the castle of the greatcorporation. With youth's optimism he had anticipated a certain measureof sympathy--had in some degree pictured at least one kindly man in theComas outfit who would listen to a young chap's troubles. 

Walking to the door, standing with his hand on the knob, he knew he mustgo back to the woods with the dolorous prospect of being obliged tofight to hold together the remnants of the Latisan business. He set histeeth and opened the door. He would have gone without further words, butthe sallow man snapped a half threat which brought Ward around on hisheels. 

"Mr. Latisan, I hope you will carry away with you the conviction thatfighting the Comas company will not get you anything. "

Ward choked for a moment. Old John was stirring in him. A fettered yelpwas bulging in his throat, and the skin of the back of his head tingledas if the hair were rising. But he spoke quietly when he allowed hisvoice to squeeze past the repressed impulse. "There's a real fight readyto break in the north country, sir. "

"Do you propose to be captain?"

"I have no such ambition. But your Mr. Craig is forcing the issue. Nocompany is big enough to buck the law in our state. "

"Look here, my good fellow!" The sallow man came around in his chair. Ward immediately was more fully informed as to the personage's status. "I am one of the attorneys of this corporation. I have been attendingto the special acts your legislature has passed in our behalf. We arefully protected by law. "

"The question is how much you'll be protected after facts are broughtout by a fight, " replied Ward, stoutly. "I know the men who have beensent down to the legislature from our parts and how they were elected. But even such men get cold feet after the public gets wise. "

"That'll be enough!" snapped the attorney. He turned to his desk again. 

"Yes, it looks like it, " agreed young Latisan; he did not bang the doorafter him; he closed it softly. 

The attorney was obliged to look around to assure himself that hiscaller was not in the room. Then he pushed a button and commanded aclerk to ask if Mr. Craig was still in the president's office. Informedthat Mr. Craig was there, the attorney went thither. 

"I have just been bothered by that young chap, Latisan, from the Tomahregion, " reported Dawes, the attorney. "He threatens a fight which willrip the cover off affairs in the north country. How about what'sunderneath, provided the cover is ripped off, Craig?"

"Everything sweet as a nut! Any other kind of talk is bluff andblackmail. So that's young Latisan's latest move, eh?" he ejaculated, squinting appraisingly at Dawes and turning full gaze of candor's fineassumption on Horatio Marlow, the president. 

"Just who is this young Latisan?" inquired Marlow. 

"Oh, only the son of one of the independents who are sticking out on ahold-up against us. Did he name his price, Dawes?"

"He didn't try to sell anything, " acknowledged the attorney. "Craig, letme ask you, are you moving along the lines of the law we have behind usin those special acts I steered through?"

"Sure thing!" asserted the field director, boldly. 

"We've got to ask for more from the next legislature, " stated thelawyer. 

The president came in with a warning. "Credit is touchy these days, Mr. Craig. We're going into the market for big money for furtherdevelopment. It's easy for reports to be made very hurtful. "

"I'm achieving results up there, " insisted Craig, doggedly. 

"We're very much pleased with conditions, " agreed the president. "We'reable to show capital a constantly widening control of properties andnatural advantages. But remember Achilles's heel, Mr. Craig. "

"I haven't been able to fight 'em with feathers all the time, " confessedthe field director. "There wasn't much law operating up there when Igrabbed in. I have done the best I could, and if I have been obliged touse a club once in a while I have made the fight turn something for thecorporation. " He exhibited the pride of the man who had accomplished. 

The attorney warned Craig again. "We can't afford to have any uproarstarted till we get our legislation properly cinched. Tomah seems to beattended to. But we need some pretty drastic special acts before we cango over the watershed and control the Noda waters and pull old Flagginto line. He's the last, isn't he?--the king-pin, according to what Ihear. "

"I'll attend to his case all right, " declared Craig, with confidence. "I'll tackle the Noda basin next. Flagg must be licked before he'llsell. He's that sort. A half lunatic on this independent thing. I reckonyou'll leave it to me, won't you?"

"We'll leave all the details of operation in the field to you, Craig, "promised the president. "But you must play safe. "

"I'll take full responsibility, " affirmed Craig, whose pride had beentouched. 

"Then we shall continue to value you as our right bower in the north, "said Marlow. "The man on the ground understands the details. We don'ttry to follow them here in the home office. "

Craig walked out with Dawes. 

"That talk has put the thing up to you square-edged, Craig. "

Craig had been heartened and fortified by the president's compliments. "Leave it to me!"

CHAPTER THREE

Latisan had eaten his breakfast in the grill of a big hotel with a vagueidea that such an environment would tune him up to meet the magnates ofthe Comas company. 

In his present and humbler state of mind, hungry again, he went into acafeteria. 

Waiting at the counter for his meat stew and tea--familiar woodsprovender which appealed to his homesickness--he became aware of a youngwoman at his elbow; she was having difficulty in managing her tray andher belongings. There was an autumn drizzle outside and Ward had stalkedalong unprotected, with a woodman's stoicism in regard to wetness. Theyoung woman had her umbrella, a small bag, and a parcel, and she wasclinging to all of them, impressed by the "Not Responsible" signs whichsprinkled the walls of the place. When her tray tipped at an alarmingslant, as she elbowed her way from the crowded counter, Ward caught atits edge and saved a spill. 

The girl smiled gratefully. 

"If you don't mind, " he apologized; his own tray was ready. He took thatin his free hand. He gently pulled her tray from her unsteady grasp. "I'll carry it to a table. "

The table section was as crowded as the counter space. He did not offerto sit opposite her at the one vacant table he found; he lingered, however, casting about himself for another seat. 

"May I not exchange my hospitality for your courtesy?" inquired thegirl. She nodded toward the unoccupied chair and he sat down and thankedher. 

She was an extremely self-possessed young woman, who surveyed himfrankly with level gaze from her gray eyes. 

"You performed very nicely, getting through that crush as you didwithout spilling anything, " she commended. 

"I've had plenty of practice. "

She opened her eyes on him by way of a question. "Not as a waiter, " heproceeded. "But with those trays in my hand it was like being on thedrive, ramming my way through the gang that was charging the cook tent. "

"The drive!" she repeated. He was surprised by the sudden interest heroused in her. "Are you from the north country?" Her color heightenedwith her interest. She leaned forward. 

Latisan, in his infrequent experiences, had never been at ease in thepresence of pretty girls, even when their notice of him was merelycursory. In the region where he had toiled there were few females, andthose were spouses and helpers of woods cooks, mostly. 

Here was a maid of the big city showing an interest disquietinglyacute--her glowing eyes and parted lips revealed her emotions. At themoment he was not able to separate himself, as a personality, from thesubject which he had brought up. Just what there was about him or thesubject to arouse her so strangely he did not pause to inquire ofhimself, for his thoughts were not coherent just then; he, too, wasstirred by her nearer propinquity as she leaned forward, questioning himeagerly. 

He replied, telling what he was but not who he was; he felt a twinge ofdisappointment because she did not venture to probe into his identity. Her questions were concerned with the north country as a region. Atfirst her quizzing was of a general nature. Then she narrowed the fieldof inquiry. 

"You say the Tomah waters are parallel with the Noda basin! Do you knowmany folks over in the Noda region?"

"Very few. I have kept pretty closely on my own side of the watershed. "

"Isn't there a village in the Noda called Adonia?"

"Oh yes! It's the jumping-off place--the end of a narrow-gaugerailroad. "

"You have been in Adonia?"

"A few times. "

"I had--there were friends of mine--they were friends of a man inAdonia. His name was--let's see!" He wondered whether the faint wrinkleof a frown under the bronze-flecked hair on her forehead was as much theexpression of puzzled memory as she was trying to make it seem; theredid appear something not wholly ingenuous in her looks just then. "Oh, his name is Flagg. "

"Echford Flagg?"

"Yes, that's it. My friends were very friendly with him, and I'd liketo be able to tell them----" She hesitated. 

"You have given me some news, " he declared, bluntly; in his mood of theday he was finding no good qualities in mankind. "I never heard of EckFlagg having any friends. Well, I'll take that back! I believe he's acehigh among the Tarratine Indians up our way; they have made him anhonorary chief. But it's no particular compliment to a white man'sdisposition to be able to qualify as an Indian, as I look at it. "

This time he was not in doubt about the expression on her face; a suddengrimace like grief wreathed the red lips and there was more than asuspicion of tears in her eyes. He stared at her, frankly amazed. 

"If I have stepped on toes I am sorry. I never did know how to talk toyoung ladies without making a mess sooner or later. "

She returned no reply, and he went on with his food to cover hisembarrassment. 

"Do you know Mr. Flagg?" she asked, after the silence had beenprolonged. 

"Not very well. But I know about him. "

"What especially?"

"That he's a hard man. He never forgets or forgives an injury. Perhapsthat's why he qualified so well as an Indian. "

She straightened in her chair and narrowed those gray eyes. "Couldn'tthere have been another reason why he was chosen for such an honor?"

"I beg your pardon for passing along to you the slurs of the northcountry, miss----" he paused but she did not help him with her name. "It's mostly slurs up there, " he went on, with bitterness, "and I getinto the habit, myself. The Indians did have a good reason for givingFlagg that honor. He is the only one in the north who has respected theIndians' riparian rights, given by treaty and then stolen back. He paysthem for hold-boom privileges when his logs are on their shores. Theyare free to come and go on his lands for birch bark and basketstuff--he's the only one who respects the old treaties. That's wellknown about Flagg in the north country. It's a good streak in any man, no matter what folks say about his general disposition. "

"I'm glad to hear you say that much!"

She pushed back her chair slightly and began to take stock of herpossessions. A sort of a panic came upon him. There were a lot of thingshe wanted to say, and he could not seem to lay a tongue to one of them. He stammered something about the wet day and wondered whether it wouldbe considered impudence if he offered to escort her, holding over herthe umbrella or carrying her parcel. He had crude ideas about the matterof squiring dames. He wanted to ask her not to hurry away. "Do you livehere in New York--handy by?"

The cafeteria was just off lower Broadway, and she smiled. He realizedthe idiocy of the question. 

"I work near here! You are going home to the north soon?" The politequery was in a tone which checked all his new impulses in regard to her. 

"I'm headed north right now. If there's any information I can sendyou----"

She shook her head slowly, but even the negative was marked by anindecisive quality, as if she were repressing some importunate desire. 

"I wish you a pleasant journey, sir. " All her belongings were in herhands. 

"It's queer--it's almost more than queer how we happened to meet--bothinterested in the north country, " he stuttered, wanting to detain her. 

He was hoping she would make something of the matter. 

But she merely acknowledged the truth of his statement, adding, "Therewould be more such coincidences in life if folks took the trouble tointerest themselves a bit in one another and compare notes. "

She started to walk away; then she whirled and came back to the tableand leaned over it. Her soul of longing was in her eyes--they werefilled with tears. "You're going back there, " she whispered. "God blessthe north country! Give a friendly pat to one of the big trees for meand say you found a girl in New York who is homesick. "

She turned from him before he could summon words. 

He wanted to call after her--to find out more about her. He saw hergathering up her change at the cashier's wicket. The spectacle remindedhim of his own check. Even love at first sight, if such could be thestrange new emotion struggling within him, could not enable him to leapthe barrier of the cashier's cold stare and rush away without payingscot. He hunted for his punched check. He pawed all over the marble topof the table, rattling the dishes. 

A check--it was surely all of that!

The search for it checked him till the girl was gone, mingled with thestreet crowds. He found the little devil of a delayer in the papernapkin which he had nervously wadded and dropped on the floor. He shovedmoney to the cashier and did not wait for his change. He rushed out onthe street and stretched up his six stalwart feet and craned his neckand hunted for the little green toque with the white quill. 

It was a vain quest. 

He did not know just what the matter was with him all of a sudden. Hehad never had any personal experience with that which he had vaguelyunderstood was love; he had merely viewed it from a standpoint of adisinterested observer, in the case of other men. He hated to admit, ashe stood there in the drizzle, his defeat by a cafeteria check. 

He remained in New York for another night, his emotions aggravatinglycomplex. He tried to convince his soul that he had a business reason forstaying. He lied to himself and said he would make another desperatesortie on the castle of the Comas company. But he did not go there thenext day. Near noon he set himself to watch the entrance of thecafeteria. When he saw a table vacant near the door he went in, securedfood, and posted himself where he could view all comers. 

The girl did not come. 

At two o'clock, after eating three meals, he did not dare to brave theevident suspicions of that baleful cashier any longer. Undoubtedly thegirl had been a casual customer like himself. He gave it up and startedfor the north. 

CHAPTER FOUR

When Ward Latisan was home again and had laced his high boots andbuttoned his belted jacket, he was wondering, in the midst of his othertroubles, why he allowed the matter of a chance-met girl to play so biga part in his thoughts. The exasperating climax of his adventure withthe girl, his failure to ask her name frankly, his folly of bashfulbackwardness in putting questions when she was at arm's length from him, his mournful certainty that he would never see her again--all conspiredcuriously to make her an obsession rather than a mere memory. 

He had never bothered with mental analysis; his effort to untangle hisideas in this case merely added to his puzzlement; it was like one ofthose patent trick things which he had picked up in idle moments, allowing the puzzle to bedevil attention and time, intriguing hisinterest, to his disgust. He had felt particularly lonely and helplesswhen he came away from Comas headquarters; instinctively he was seekingfriendly companionship--opening his heart; he had caught something, justas a man with open pores catches cold. He found the notion grimlyhumorous! But Latisan was not ready to own up that what he hadcontracted was a case of love, though young men had related to him theirexperiences along such lines. 

He went into the woods and put himself at the head of the crews. He hadthe ability to inspire zeal and loyalty. 

In the snowy avenues of the Walpole tract sounded the rick-tack of busyaxes, the yawk of saws, and the crash of falling timber. The twitchroads, narrow trails which converged to centers like the strands of acobweb, led to the yards where the logs were piled for the sleds; andfrom the yards, after the snows were deep and had been iced by wateringtanks on sleds, huge loads were eased down the slopes to the landingsclose to the frozen Tomah. 

Ward Latisan was not merely a sauntering boss, inspecting operations. Hewent out in the gray mornings with an ax in his hand. He understood thevalue of personal and active leadership. He was one with his men. Theyput forth extra effort because he was with them. 

Therefore, when the April rains began to soften the March snow crustsand the spring flood sounded its first murmur under the blackening iceof Tomah, the Latisan logs were ready to be rolled into the river. 

And then something happened!

That contract with the Walpole second cousins--pronounced an air-tightcontract by the lawyer--was pricked, popped, and became nothing. 

An heir appeared and proved his rights. He was the only grandson of oldIsaac. The cousins did not count in the face of the grandson's claims. 

In the past, in the Tomah region, there had been fictitious heirs whohad worked blackmail on operators who took a chance with putative heirsand tax titles. But the Latisans were faced with proofs that this heirwas real and right. 

Why had he waited until the cut was landed?

The Latisans pressed him with desperate questions, trying to find a wayout of their trouble. 

He was a sullen and noncommunicative person and intimated that he hadsuited his own convenience in coming on from the West. 

The Latisans, when the heir appeared, were crippled for ready cash, after settling with the cousin heirs for stumpage and paying thewinter's costs of operating. Those cousins were needy folks and hadspent the money paid to them; there was no hope of recovering anyconsiderable portion of the amounts. 

The true heir attached the logs as they lay, and a court injunctionprevented the Latisans from moving a stick. The heir showed a somewhatsingular disinclination to have any dealings with the Latisans. Herefused their offer to share profits with him; he persistently returnedan exasperating reply: he did not care to do business with men who hadtried to steal his property. He said he had already traded withresponsible parties. Comas surveyors came and scaled the logs and nestedC's were painted on the ends of the timber. 

The Latisans had "gone bump"; the word went up and down the Tomah. 

"Well, go ahead and say it!" suggested Rufus Craig when he had sethimself in the path of Ward Latisan, who was coming away from a last, and profitless, interview with the obstinate heir. 

"I have nothing to say, sir. "

Craig calculatingly chose the moment for this meeting, desiring tocarry on with the policy which he had adopted. By his system the Comashad maneuvered after the python method--it crushed, it smeared, itswallowed. 

The Latisans had been crushed--Craig quieted his conscience with thearguments of business necessity; he had a big salary to safeguard; hehad promised boldly to deliver the goods in the north country. Thoughhis conscience was dormant, his fears were awake. He was not relishingLatisan's manner. The repression worried him. The grandson had plenty ofold John in his nature, and Craig knew it!

Craig tried to smear!

"Latisan, I'll give you a position with the Comas, and a good one. "

"And the conditions are?"

"That you'll turn over your operating equipment to us at a fair priceand sign a ten-year contract. "

"I knew you'd name those conditions. I refuse. "

"You're making a fool of yourself--and what for?"

"For a principle! I've explained it to you. "

"And I've explained how our consolidated plan butts against yourold-fashioned principle. Do you think for one minute you can stop theComas development?"

"I'm still with the independents. We'll see what can be done. "

"You're licked in the Toban. "

"There's still good fighting ground over in the Noda Valley--and somefighters are left there. "

Craig squinted irefully at the presumptuous rebel. 

Latisan hid much behind a smile. "You see, Mr. Craig, I'm just as frankas I was when I said I was going to New York. You may find me in theNoda when you get there with your consolidation plans. "

"Another case of David and Goliath, eh?"

"Perhaps! I'll hunt around and see what I can find in the way of a slingand pebble. "

CHAPTER FIVE

A summons sent forth by Echford Flagg, the last of the giants among theindependent operators on the Noda waters, had made that day in earlyApril a sort of gala affair in the village of Adonia. 

Men by the hundred were crowded into the one street, which stretchedalong the river bank in front of the tavern and the stores. Thenarrow-gauge train from downcountry had brought many. Others had comefrom the woods in sledges; there was still plenty of snow in the woods;but in the village the runner irons squalled over the bare spots. Mencame trudging from the mouths of trails and tote roads, their duffel inmeal bags slung from their shoulders. 

An observer, looking on, listening, would have discovered that asuppressed spirit of jest kept flashing across the earnestness of theoccasion--grins lighting up sharp retort--just as the radiant sunshineof the day shuttled through the intermittent snow squalls which dustedthe shoulders of the thronging men. 

There was a dominant monotone above all the talk and the cackle oflaughter; ears were dinned everlastingly by the thunder of the cataractnear the village. The Noda waters break their winter fetters first ofall at Adonia, where the river leaps from the cliffs into the whirlpool. The roar of the falls is a trumpet call for the starting of the drive, though the upper waters may be ice-bound; but when the falls shouttheir call the rivermen must be started north toward the landings wherelogs are piled on the rotting ice. 

On that day Echford Flagg proposed to pick his crew. 

To be sure, he had picked a crew every year in early April, but thehiring had been done in a more or less matter-of-fact manner. 

This year the summons had a suggestion of portent. It went by word o'mouth from man to man all through the north country. It hinted at anopportunity for adventure outside of wading in shallows, carding ledgesof jillpoked logs, and the bone-breaking toil of rolling timber andriffling jams. 

"Eck Flagg wants roosters this year, " had gone the word. Spurredroosters! Fighting gamecocks! One spur for a log and one for any hellionwho should get in the way of an honest drive!

The talk among the men who shouldered one another in the street andswapped grins and gab revealed that not all of them were ready tovolunteer as spurred roosters, ready for hazard. It was evident thatthere were as many mere spectators as there were actual candidates forjobs. Above all, ardent curiosity prevailed; in that region where eventsmarshaled themselves slowly and sparsely men did not balk at riding orhoofing it a dozen miles or more in order to get first-hand informationin regard to anything novel or worth while. 

Finally, Echford Flagg stalked down the hill from his big, squarehouse--its weather-beaten grayness matching the ledges on which it waspropped. His beard and hair were the color of the ledges, too, and theseams in his hard face were like ledgerifts. His belted jacket was stonegray and it was buttoned over the torso of a man who was six feettall--yes, a bit over that height. He was straight and vigorous in spiteof the age revealed in his features. He carried a cant dog over hisshoulder; the swinging iron tongue of it clanked as he strode along. 

The handle of the tool was curiously striped with colors. There was noother cant dog like it all up and down the Noda waters. Carved into thewood was an emblem--it was the totem mark of the Tarratines--the signmanual by Sachem Nicola of Flagg's honorary membership in the tribe. 

He was no popular hero in that section--it was easy to gather that muchfrom the expressions of the men who looked at him when he marchedthrough the crowd. There was no acclaim, only a grunt or a sniff. Toomany of them had worked for him in days past and had felt the weight ofhis broad palm and the slash of his sharp tongue. Ward Latisan hadtruthfully expressed the Noda's opinion of Flagg in the talk with thegirl in the cafeteria. 

The unroofed porch of the tavern served Flagg for a rostrum that day. Hemounted the porch, faced the throng, and drove down the steel-shod pointof his cant dog into the splintering wood, swinging the staff out toarm's length. 

"I'm hiring a driving crew to-day, " he shouted. "As for men----"

"Here's one, " broke in a volunteer, thrusting himself forward withscant respect for the orator's exordium. 

Flagg bent forward and peered down into the face uplifted hopefully. 

"I said men, " he roared. "You're Larsen. You went to sleep on the Lotanledges----"

"I had been there alone for forty-eight hours, carding 'em, and thelogs----"

"You went to sleep on the Lotan ledges, I say, and let a jam gettangled, and it took twenty of my men two days to pull the snarl loose. "

The man was close to the edge of the porch. Flagg set his boot suddenlyagainst Larsen's breast and drove him away so viciously that the victimfell on his back among the legs of the crowd, ten feet from the porch. 

"I never forget and I never forgive--and that's the word that's outabout me, and I'm proud of the reputation, " declared Flagg. "I don'tpropose to smirch it at this late day. And now I look into your facesand realize that what I have just said and done adds to the bunch thathas come here to-day to listen and look on instead of hiring out. I'mglad I'm sorting out the sheep from the goats at the outset. It happensthat I want goats--goats with horns and sharp hoofs and----"

"The word was you wanted roosters, " cried somebody from the outskirts ofthe crowd. 

There was laughter, seeking even that small excuse for vent; thehilarity was as expressive as a _viva voce_ vote, and its volumesuggested that there were more against Flagg than there were for him. 

He did not lower his crest. "You all know what is happening thisseason. You know why I have sent out for men. The Three C's crowd hasstarted stealing from my crews. I want men who have a grudge against theThree C's. I want men who will fight the Three C's. Rufe Craig proposesto steal the Noda as he has stolen the Tomah. He has been making hisbrags of what he'll do to me. He won't do it, even if I have to make aspecial trip to hell and hire a crew of devils. Now let me test out thiscrowd. " He was searching faces with a keen gaze. "All proper men to thefront ranks! Let me look at you!"

A slow movement began in the throng; men were pushing forward. 

"Lively on the foot!" yelled Flagg. "I'm standing here judging you bythe way you break this jam of the jillpokes. Walk over the cowards, youreal men! Come on, you bully chaps! Come running! Hi yoop! Underfootwith 'em!"

He swung his cant dog and kept on adjuring. 

The real adventurers, the excitement seekers, the scrappers, drove intothe press of those who were in the way. The field became a scene ofriot. The bullies were called on to qualify under the eyes of themaster. There were fisticuffs aplenty because husky men who might notcare to enlist with old Eck Flagg were sufficiently muscular and ugly tostrike back at attackers who stamped on their feet and drove fists intotheir backs. 

Flagg, on the porch, followed all phases of the scattered conflict, estimated men by the manner in which they went at what he had set themto do, and he surveyed them with favor when they crowded close to theedge of his rostrum, dwelling with particular interest on the faceswhich especially revealed that they had been up against the real thingin the way of a fight. Behind and around the gladiators who had won tothe porch pressed the cordon of malcontents who cursed and threatened. 

"Much obliged for favor of prompt reply to mine of day and date, " saidFlagg, with his grim humor. He drove his cant-dog point into the floorof the porch and left the tool waggling slowly to and fro. He leapeddown among the men. He did not waste time with words. He went amongthem, gripping their arms to estimate the biceps, holding them off atarm's length to judge their height and weight. He also looked at theirteeth, rolling up their lips, horse-trader fashion. The drive provenderdid not consist of tender tidbits; a river jack must be able to chewtough meat, and the man in the wilderness with a toothache would havepoor grit for work in bone-chilling water after a sleepless night. 

Flagg carried a piece of chalk in his right hand. When he accepted a manhe autographed the initials "E F" on the back of the fellow's shirt orjacket, in characteristic handwriting. "Show your back as you go north, "he proclaimed for the benefit of the strangers to his custom. "Myinitials are good for stage team, tote team, lodging, and meals--thebills are sent to Flagg. The sooner you start the sooner you'll get toheadwaters. "

A big chap followed at Flagg's back as the despot moved among the men. He was Ben Kyle, Flagg's drive boss, the first mate of the Flagg ship ofstate. He was writing down the names of the men as they were hired. Occasionally the master called on the mate to give in an opinion when acandidate ran close to the line between acceptance or rejection. 

Flagg began to show good humor beyond his usual wont. He was finding menwho suited him. Many of them growled anathema against the Three C's. They had worked for that corporation. They had been obliged to herd withroughscuff from the city employment agencies, unskilled men who were allthe time coming and going and were mostly underfoot when they were onthe job. One humorist averred that the Three C's had three complete setsof crews--one working, one coming in, and one going out. 

Kyle began to loosen up and copy some of Flagg's good humor. 

He encouraged the wag who had described the three shifts to say moreabout the Comas crews; he had some witticisms of his own to offer. 

And so it came to pass that when he tackled one hulking and bashful sortof a chap who stuttered, Kyle was in most excellent mood to have alittle fun with a butt. Even Echford Flagg ceased operations to listen, for the humor seemed to be sharp-edged enough to suit his satiric taste. 

"You say you're an ox teamster!" bawled the boss. "Well, well! That'sgood. Reckon we'll put some oxen onto the drive this spring so as togive you a job. How much do you know about teaming oxen?"

After a great deal of mirth-provoking difficulty with b and g, the manmeekly explained that he did know the butt end of a gad from the bradend. 

"Who in the crowd has got an ox or two in his pocket?" queried Kyle. "Wecan't hire an ox teamster for the drive"--he dwelt on oxen for the drivewith much humorous effect--"without being sure that he can drive oxen. It would be blasted aggravating to have our drive hung up and the oxenall willing enough to pull it along, and then find out that the teamsterwas no good. "

Martin Brophy, tavernkeeper, was on the porch, enjoying the events thatwere staged in front of his place that day. 

"Hey, Martin, isn't there a gad in the cultch under your office desk?"

"Most everything has been left there, from an umbrella to a clap o'thunder, " admitted Brophy. "I'll look and see. "

"Better not go to fooling too much, Ben, " warned the master. "I've seenfooling spoil good business a lot of times. "

It was rebuke in the hearing of many men who were showing keen zest inwhat might be going to happen; it was treating a right-hand man like achild. Kyle resented it and his tone was sharp when he replied that heknew what he was doing. He turned away from the glaring eyes of themaster and took in his hand the goad which Brophy brought. 

There was a sudden tautness in the situation between Flagg and Kyle, andthe crowd noted it. The master was not used to having his suggestionsflouted. 

The boss thrust the goad into the hand of the bashful fellow. "There's ahitchpost right side of you, my man. Make believe it's a yoke of oxen. What are your motions and your style of language in getting a start. Goto it!"

The teamster swished the goad in beckoning fashion after he had rappedit against the post in imitation of knocking on an ox's nose to summonattention. His efforts to vault lingually over the first "double-u"excited much mirth. Even the corners of Flagg's mouth twitched. 

"Wo, wo hysh! Gee up, Bright! Wo haw, Star!" Such was the openingcommand. 

"They don't hear you, " declared Kyle. "Whoop 'er up!"

The teamster did make a desperate effort to drive his imaginary yoke ofoxen. He danced and yelled and brandished the goad as a crazy directormight slash with his baton. He used up all his drive words andinvective. 

Kyle could not let the joke stop there after the man had thrown down thegoad, wiped his forehead, and declared that it wasn't fair, trying tomake him start a hitching post. 

"Pick up your gad, " commanded the boss. He dropped on his hands andknees. "Now you show us what you can do. I'm a yoke of oxen. "

"You ain't. "

"I tell you I am. Get busy. Start your team. "

"That's about enough of that!" warned Flagg, sourly. "Kyle, get up ontoyour feet where you belong. "

But the spirit of jest made the boss reckless and willfully disobedient. He insisted doggedly on his rôle as a balky ox and scowled at theteamster. "If you want a job you'll have to show _me_!"

The teamster adjured Mr. Kyle in very polite language, and did not bringthe swishing goad within two feet of the scornful nose; the candidatewanted a job and was not in a mood to antagonize a prospective boss. 

"You're a hell of a teamster!" yapped Kyle. "What's your system? Do youget action by feeding an ox lollypops, kissing him on the nose andsaying, 'Please, ' and 'Beg your pardon'?"

The big chap began to show some spirit of his own under the lash of thelaughter that was encouraging Kyle. 

"I ain't getting a square deal, mister. That post wa'n't an ox; youain't an ox. "

"I am, I tell you! Start me. "

"You vow and declare that you're an ox, do you, before all in hearing?"

"That's what!" Mr. Kyle was receiving the plaudits and encouragement ofall his friends who enjoyed a joke, and was certain in his mind that hehad that bashful stutterer sized up as a quitter. Flagg folded his armsand narrowed his eyes--his was the air of one who was allowing fate todeal with a fool who tempted it. 

The candidate did not hurry matters. He spat meditatively into first onefist and then into the other. He grasped the goad in both hands. Helooked calculatingly at Mr. Kyle, who was on his hands and knees, andwas cocking an arch and provocative look upward, approving the grins ofthe men near him. 

When the teamster did snap into action his manner indicated that he knewhow to handle balky oxen. First he cracked Mr. Kyle smartly over thebridge of the nose. "Wo haw up!" was a command which Kyle tried to obeyin a flame of ire, but a swifter and more violent blow across the nosesent him back on his heels, his eyes shut in his agony. 

"Gee up into the yoke, you crumpled-horn hyampus!" The teamster weltedthe goad across Kyle's haunches and further encouraged the putative oxby a thrust of a full inch of the brad. 

When the boss came onto his feet with a berserker howl of fury andstarted to attack, the ox expert yelled, "Dat rat ye, don't ye try tohook your horns into me!" Then he flailed the stick once more acrossKyle's nose with a force that knocked the boss flat on his back. 

Echford Flagg stepped forward and stood between the two men when Kylestruggled to his feet and started toward the teamster with the mania ofblood lust in his red eyes. The master put forth a hand and thrust backthe raging mate. Flagg said something, but for a time he could not beheard above the tempest of howling laughter. 

It was riotous abandonment to mirth. Men hung helplessly to other men orflapped their hands and staggered about, choking with their merriment. The savageness of the punishment administered to the boastful Kylemight have shocked persons with squeamish dispositions; it was wildlyhumorous in the estimation of those men o' the forest. They were used tohaving their jokes served raw. 

The roar that fairly put into the background the riot of the fallingwaters of the Noda was what all the region recognized as the ruinationof a man's authority in the north country; it was the Big Laugh. 

Flagg, when he could make himself heard by his boss, holding Kyle in hismighty grip, made mention of the Big Laugh, too. "Kyle, you've got it atlast by your damn folly. You're licked forever in these parts. I warnedyou. You went ahead against my word to you. You're no good to me afterthis. " He yanked the list of names from Kyle's jacket pocket. 

"Let me loose! I'm going to kill that----"

"You're going to walk out--and away! You're done. You're fired. Youcan't boss men after this. A boss, are you?" he demanded, with bitterirony. "All up and down this river, if you tried to boss men, they'dgive you the grin and call you 'Co Boss'. They'd moo after you. Look at'em now. Listen to 'em. Get out of my sight. I don't forgive any man whogoes against my word to him and then gets into trouble. " He thrust Kyleaway with a force that sent the man staggering. He turned to the bashfulchap, who had resumed his former demeanor of deprecation. "You're hired. You've showed that you can drive oxen and I reckon you can drive logs. "

The teamster was too thoroughly bulwarked by admirers to allow therampant Kyle an opportunity to get at him. And there was Flagg to reckonwith if violence should be attempted. The deposed first mate slunkaway. 

"That, my men, " proclaimed the master, "is what the Big Laugh can do toa boss. No man can be a boss for me after he gets that laugh. I reckonI've hired my crew, " he went on, looking them over critically. "Stand byto follow me north in the morning. "

CHAPTER SIX

When the autocrat of the Noda strode away, a stalwart young maninstantly obeyed Flagg's command--seizing the occasion to follow thenand there. He had been standing on the outskirts of the throng, surveying the happenings with great interest. The men who were in hisimmediate vicinity, lumberjacks who were strangers in the Noda region, were plainly of his appanage and had obeyed his advice to keep out ofthe mêlée that had been provoked by Flagg's methods of selection. 

When the big fellow hurried in pursuit of Flagg a bystander put aquestion to one of the strangers. 

"You ought to know who he is, " returned the questioned. "That's WardLatisan. "

And just then, apart from the crowd, having overtaken the autocrat, theyoung man was informing Flagg to that same effect. 

Flagg halted, swung around, and rammed his cant dog into the ground. "You've changed from a sapling into fair-sized timber since I saw youlast. You look like old John, and that's compliment enough, I reckon. How do you happen to be over in the Noda country?"

"I don't happen! I heard of the word you sent out. I came here onpurpose, sir. "

"What for?"

"To hire with you. "

Flagg looked Latisan up and down and showed no enthusiasm. "Yes, I heardthat you and your father had let the Three C's slam you flat. And whatmakes you think I want that kind of a quitter in my crew?"

Ward met the disparaging stare with a return display of undauntedchallenge. "Because I belong in the crew of a man who is proposing tofight the Three C's. "

Flagg grunted. 

Latisan kept on. "You have been hiring men because they have beenparading a lot of little grouches against the Comas folks. You need aman who has a real reason for going up against that outfit. And I'm theman. "

"What you think about yourself and what I may think about you are twodifferent things, " retorted Flagg, with insolence. "Looks to me like youhad got the Big Laugh over in your section. You have probably noticedwhat I just did in a case of that sort. "

"I took it all in, sir. "

"Well, what then?"

"They are not laughing with us or against us over in the Tomah, Mr. Flagg. They all know what happened, and that we fought the Comas fairand square as long as we could keep on our feet. It was a trick thatlicked us. Craig held out the Walpole heir on us. "

"I know about it; I manage to get most of the news. " Flagg started to goon his way, but Ward put his clutch on the autocrat's arm. 

"Pardon me, Mr. Flagg, but you're going to hear what I have to ask ofyou. "

Mere apologetic suit would not have served with Flagg. He found thisbold young man patterning after the Flagg methods in dealings with men. The boldness of the grip on his arm gained more effectively thanpleading. 

"Ask it. I'm in a hurry. "

"You have fired Kyle. I want his place. "

"Well, I'll be----"

"You needn't be, sir. I'm a Latisan and I have bossed our drives. I havebrought along a bunch of my own men who have bucked white water with meand are with me now in standing up for the principle of theindependents. Allow me to say that luck is with you. Here's your chanceto get hold of a man who can put heart and soul into this fight you'regoing to make. "

"And now go on and tell me how much you admire me, " suggested Flagg, sarcastically. 

"I can't do that, sir. I'm going to tell you frankly I don't relish whatI have heard about you. It's for no love of you that I'm asking for achance to go up against the Comas people. It's because you're hard--hardenough to suit me--hard enough to let me go to it and show the Three C'sthey can't get away with what they're trying to do up here through RufusCraig. "

"All right. You're hired. You've got Ben Kyle's job, " stated Flagg. 

Latisan was not astonished by this precipitate come-about. He wasprepared for Flagg's tactics by what he had set himself to learn aboutthe autocrat's nature--quick to adjudge, tenacious in his grudges, inflexible in his opinion, bitterly ruthless when he had set himself inthe way his prejudices selected. 

"You have seen what happened to Kyle. Can you govern yourselfaccordingly?" Flagg in his turn had set his grip on Ward's arm. 

"Yes, sir!"

"I'll kick you out just as sudden as I kicked him if anything happens tomake men give you the grin. Can you start north with me in the morning?"

"Now or in the morning; it makes no difference to me, sir. "

Flagg shifted his hand from Ward's arm to the young man's shoulder andpropelled him back a few paces toward the crowd in front of the tavern. "Listen, one and all! Here's my drive boss. He's old John Latisan'sgrandson. If that isn't introduction enough, ask questions about oldJohn from those who remember him; this chap is like his grandfather. "

Latisan went into the tavern after Flagg had marched away to the bighouse on the ledges. The crowd made way for the new drive boss; those inhis path stared at him with interest; mumble of comment followed as themen closed in behind him. When he sat down in a corner of the tavernoffice and lighted his pipe his subalterns showed him deference byleaving him to himself. That isolation gave Landlord Brophy hisopportunity to indulge his bent in gossip unheard by interlopers. 

Brophy plucked a cigar from a box in the little case on the desk and satdown beside Ward. "I sympathize with you, " he said by way of backhandedcongratulation. 

"Thank you. "

"I was born in this tavern; my father built it and run it before me, "said Brophy, tucking his cigar through the shrubbery of his graymustache. "And so I've had the chance to know Ech Flagg a good manyyears. He's a turk. "

"I have heard so. "

"He has always had a razor edge to his temper. Maybe you know what putthe wire edge onto it?" It was query with the cock of an eyebrowaccompanying. 

"What I know about Mr. Flagg is only a general reputation of being ahard man. I can say that much to you because I told him the same thing. And that's as far as I care to gossip about an employer, " stated Ward, stiffly. 

"That's a safe stand, " said Brophy, unperturbed. "Keep to it and theycan't be running to him with stories about what you have said. But hedon't pay me wages and I can say what I feel like saying. A new bossought to know a few things about the man who hires him. It's mydisposition to set a good chap on the right road with a tip. Whateveryou may say to Flagg in the way of chat, don't you ever try to bring upthe subject of his family affairs. "

"I'm not at all likely to, " snapped Latisan, with asperity. 

"Oh, such a subject is easy out when folks get to going confidential, "pursued the persistent Brophy. The suggestion that he would ever be onconfidential terms with Flagg provoked an ill-tempered rebuke from Ward, but Brophy paid no attention. 

"If you lose your job with him, as you probably will, Latisan, let itbe in the straight way of business, as he conducts it, instead of beingby some fool slip of your tongue about family matters. " He puffed at hiscigar complacently and still was giving no heed to Ward's manifestrepugnance at being made the repository of gossip. 

"Eck's wife died when the daughter Sylvia was small, and he sent thegirl off to school somewheres when she was big enough to be sent. Andshe fell in with a dude kind of a fellow and came back home married tohim. She was so much in love that she dared to do a thing like that withEck Flagg--and that's being in love a whole lot, I'll say. Well, none ofus knew what was said back and forth in the family circle, but wefigured that the new husband's cheeks didn't tingle with any kisses thatEck gave him. At any rate, Eck set Kennard to work--that was the name, Alfred Kennard. Eck was never much good at ciphering. Office had been inhis hip pocket, where he carried his timebook and his scale sheet. Kennard had an education and it came about that Eck let Alf do theciphering; then he let him keep the books; then he let him handlecontracts and the money; then he gave him power of attorney so that Alfwouldn't be hampered whilst Eck was away in the woods. Just handedeverything over for the first and the only time in his life, figuringthat it was all in the family. I guess that Alf went to figuring thesame way, seeing that he was good at figures; felt that what was Eck'swas his, or would be later--and Alf proceeded to cash in. Stole rightand left, that was the amount of it. Prob'ly reckoned he'd rather havea sore conscience than have his feelings all ripped to pieces when heasked Eck for money. 

"We all knew when Eck found out that he had been properly trimmed by theonly man he had ever trusted. 

"It happened in the dooryard of the big house up there, when Eck camehome, wised up, and tackled Alf. Eck felt that the inside of the housemight get mussed up by his language, so he stood in the yard andhollered for Alf to come out. We all went up and stood around; it seemedto be a free show, all welcome. We got the full facts in the case fromEck. 

"Sylvia came out on the heels of Alf, and she had with her the littleLida, Eck's granddaughter. And after Eck had had his say to Alf and hadthrown him over the fence, he gave Sylvia her choice--stay with herfather or go away with Alf. Well, she had loved Alf well enough to comehome and face Eck with him; she loved Alf enough to turn her back on Eckand face the world with her husband. Natural, of course! Eck tried tograb the little girl away--to save his own from the thieves, so he said. Sylvia fought him off and hung to the girl. It was a tough sight, Latisan! And he stood there and shook his fists and cast 'em all off forever and aye. That's his nature--no allowance made if anybody does himdirt. 

"I'll admit that Eck did make an allowance later, after Alf died and thenews of it got back here to Adonia. Lida was grown up to around sixteenby that time. I got this from Rickety Dick. Know him?"

Latisan, relighting his pipe, shook his head with an indifferent wag. 

"Well, you soon will. He cooks and waits and tends on Eck. Looks up toEck. Loves Eck--and that's going some! Dick told me about the allowanceEck made for once in his life after I had touched Dick up by telling himthat Eck Flagg never made an allowance to anybody. Eck allowed to Dickthat Lida was too young to choose the right way that day in the yard. When she had grown up Eck sent old Dick to hunt for her in the city, totell her she could come back to him, now that she was old enough to makeher choice. Said Sylvia couldn't come back. Now that was a devil of aposition to put a girl in. What? Hey?"

Latisan nodded, displaying faint interest. 

"And Sylvia right then was in bed with her never-get-over, so Dick toldme. Of course Lida wouldn't come back. And she was working her fingersto the bone to take care of her mother. Old Dick cried like a baby whenhe was telling me. He cries pretty easy, anyway. He never dared to giveto Eck the word that Lida sent back. She's got the spirit of the Flaggs, so I judge from what Dick told me. She wouldn't even take the eggs andthe truck Dick lugged down, though Dick had bought 'em with his ownmoney; she thought the stuff came from her grandfather. Dick had to hide'em under the table when he came away. And so Eck has crossed Lida offfor ever and aye. Now that's some story, ain't it?"

"I haven't enjoyed it, " said Ward, brusquely. 

"Prob'ly not. I wasn't telling it thinking you'd give three cheers whenI finished. But I've been warning you not to make a foolish break bystubbing your toe over the family topic. I've heard what has happened tothe Latisans over Tomah way. You're our real sort, and I'm blasted sorryfor you. I reckon you need a job and I'm trying to help you hold it. Ilike your looks, young Latisan. I hate the Comas crowd. Craig has neverset down to my table but what he has growled about the grub. The cheaprowdies he hires for his operations on these waters come through herewith bootleg booze and try to wreck my house. I'd like to be friendswith you, young Latisan, and if you feel that way about it, put itthere!"

Brophy held out a fat hand and Latisan grasped it cordially. 

"In my position I hear all the news, " stated the landlord. "I'll siftthe wheat out of the chaff and hand you what's for your own good. Andnow you'll have to excuse me whilst I go and pound steak and dish updinner and wait on the table. That's the trouble with running a tavernup here in the woods. I can't keep help of the girl kind. They eitherget homesick or get married. "

There was an ominous crash in the dining room. 

Brophy swore roundly and extricated his rotund haunches from the arms ofhis chair. "There goes Dirty-Shirt Sam! I have to double him as hostlerand waiter. He'd smash the feed pails in the stable if they wasn'tgalvanized iron. "

He pounded with heavy gait across the office and flung open thedining-room door, disclosing a lop-sided youth who was listlesslykicking broken dishes into a pile. 

"You're fourteen dollars behind your wages, already, with dishes you'vedropped and smashed, " shouted Brophy. "I'd give a thousand dollars forthe right kind of a girl to stay here and wait on tables if she wouldn'tget married or homesick. I'll make it a standing offer. " He cuffed theyouth in a circle around the heap of broken crockery and went on his wayto the kitchen. 

Latisan smoked and reflected on the nature of Echford Flagg as Brophyhad exposed it from the family standpoint. 

Then he looked at the sullen youth who was sweeping up the fragments ofthe dishes. The whimsical notion occurred to Ward that he might postBrophy on the advantages of a cafeteria plan of operating his hostelry. But he had by these thoughts summoned the memory of one certaincafeteria, and of a handsome girl who sat across from him and who had sosuddenly been swallowed up in the vortex of the city throngs--goneforever--only a memory that troubled him so much and so often that hewas glad when his own Tomah men appeared to him, asking for commands andtaking his mind off a constantly nagging regret. 

CHAPTER SEVEN

The set-off of the Flagg expedition in the gray of early dawn had anelement of picaresque adventure about it. 

Latisan was making an estimate of his crew while he mixed with the men, checking them up, as they assembled again in front of the tavern ofAdonia. Old Cap'n Blackbeard would have cheerfully certified to theeminent fitness of many of them for conscienceless deeds of derring-do. The nature of Flagg's wide-flung summons and his provocative method ofselection must needs bring into one band most of the toughest nuts ofthe region, Latisan reflected, and he had brought no milk-and-waterchaps from the Tomah. He had come prepared for what was to face him. Hehad led his willing men in more or less desperate adventures in his ownregion; his clan had been busy passing the word among the strangers thatold John Latisan's grandson was a chief who had the real and the rightstuff in him. It was plain that all the men of the crew were receivingthe information with enthusiasm. Some of them ventured to pat him on theshoulder and volunteered profane promises to go with him to the limit. They did not voice any loyalty to Flagg. Flagg was not a man to inspireanything except perfunctory willingness to earn wages. The men saw realadventure ahead if they followed at the back of a heroic youth who wasavenging the wrongs dealt to his family fortunes. 

There were choruses of old river chanteys while the men waited for thesleds. A devil-may-care spirit had taken possession of the crew. Latisanbegan to feel like the brigand chief of bravos. 

He was jubilantly informed by one enthusiast that they were all inluck--that Larry O'Gorman, the woods poet, had picked that crew as hisown for that season on the river. 

The songs of Larry O'Gorman are sung from the Mirimichi to the Megantic. He is analyst as well as bard. He makes it a point--and he still livesand sings--to attach himself only to forces which can inspire his lyre. 

It was conveyed to the new boss that already was Larry busy on a newsong. Ward, his attention directed, beheld the lyricist seated on theedge of the tavern porch, absorbed in composition, writing slowly on theplaned side of a bit of board, licking the end of a stubby pencil, rolling his eyes as he sought inspiration. 

A bit later Larry rehearsed his choristers and Latisan heard the song. 

 Come, all ye bold and bully boys--come lis-sun unto me! 'Tis all abowit young Latis-an, a riverman so free. White water, wet water, he never minds its roar, 'Cause he'll take and he'll kick a bubble up and ride all safe to shore. Come, all, and riffle the ledges! Come, all, and bust the jam! And for all o' the bluff o' the Comas crowd we don't give one good-- Hoot, toot, and a hoorah! We don't give a tinker's dam. 

Every man in the crowd was able to come in on the simple chorus. 

They were singing when Echford Flagg appeared to them. He was riding ona jumper, with runners under it, and he was galloping his strapping bayhorses down from the big house on the ledges. On the bare ground therunners shrieked, and he snapped his whip over the heads of the horses. 

"What is this, a singing school or a driving crew?" he demanded, raucously. 

"The sleds have just come, sir, " explained Latisan, who had beenmarshaling the conveyances. 

"Listen, all ye!" shouted Flagg. "Nothing but dunnage bags go on thosesleds till the runners hit the woods tote road and there's good slippingon the snow. The man who doesn't hoof it till then hears from me. "

He ordered Latisan to get onto the jumper seat beside him, slashed hishorses with the whip, and led the way toward the north. 

There was no word between the two for many a mile. 

Near noon they arrived at a wayside baiting place, a log house in aclearing. They ate there and the horses were fed. There was plenty ofsnow in the woods and the first rains of April had iced the surface sothat the slipping had been good. 

As if the chewing of food had unlocked Flagg's close-set jaws, he talkeda bit to Latisan after the meal and while the horses were put to thejumper. 

"I'm going to swing off here and ride down to Skulltree dam. I'm hearingreports of something going on there. "

They heard something very definite in the way of reports before theyreached Skulltree. The sound of explosions came booming through thetrees. It was dynamite. Its down-thrusting thud on the frozen ground wasunmistakable. 

"I knew that all those boxes of canned thunder that have been goingthrough Adonia, with the Three C's on the lid, weren't intended to blowup log jams, " vouchsafed Flagg, after a few oaths to spice his opinionof the Comas company. 

Latisan knew something about the lay of the land at Skulltree, himself. When he was a young chap the Latisans had operated in a small way as aside-line on the Noda waters. There was a rift in the watershed nearSkulltree. There was a cañon leading down to the Tomah end, and thewaters of the gorge were fed by a chain of ponds whose master source wasnear the Noda. The Latisans had hauled over to the pond from the NodaValley. 

When Flagg pulled his horses to a halt on the edge of a cliff whichcommanded a view of the Skulltree and its purlieus, he sat in silencefor five minutes until he had taken in every detail of what was going onthere. 

Every little while there was an explosion across the river among thetrees, and clotted frozen earth and rocks shot up into the air. When thehorses leaped in fright Flagg slashed them and swore. It was plain thathis ire was mounting as he made sure of what was taking place. 

They were blasting a rude canal from the Noda across the low horsebackwhich divided the Noda waters from Tomah ponds. It meant the diversionof flowage. It was contemptuous disregard of the Noda rights in favor ofthe million-dollar paper mill of the Three C's on the Tomah lowerwaters. Rufus Craig had said something to young Latisan about theinexpediency of picking up a million-dollar paper mill and lugging itoff in a shawl strap. It would be easier to blow a hole through theearth and feed in the logs from the Noda. 

"By the red-hot hinges of Tophet!" bawled Flagg, having made sure thatthe enormity he was viewing was not a dream. He cut his whip under thebellies of his horses, one stroke to right and the other to left, andthe animals went over the cliff and down the sharp slope, skating andfloundering through the snow. The descent at that place would have beenimpossible for horses except for the snow which trigged feet and runnersin some degree; it was damp and heavy; but the frantic threshing of theplunging beasts kicked up a smother of snow none the less. It was like athunderbolt in a nimbus--the rush of Flagg down the mountain. 

Rufus Craig was in the shack at the end of Skulltree dam--his makeshiftoffice. Somebody called to him, and from his door he beheld the laststages of Flagg's harebrained exploit, a veritable touch-and-go withdeath. 

"There ain't much doubt about who it is that's coming for a socialcall, " said the understrapper who had summoned the field director. "Andthe question is whether he's bound for hell or Skulltree. "

Craig did not comment; he had the air of one who had been expecting avisitor of this sort and was not especially astonished by the mode ofgetting there suddenly, considering the spur for action. 

Tempestuous was the rush of the horses across the narrow flats betweenthe cliff and the end of the dam. So violently did Flagg jerk them to astandstill in front of the shack, one horse fell and dragged down theother in a tangle of harness. Flagg left them to struggle to their feetas best they were able. He leaped off the jumper and thrust with thehandle of his whip in the direction of the dynamite operations. 

The old man's features were contorted into an arabesque--a pattern ofmaniacal rage. His face was purple and its hue was deepened because itwas set off against the snow which crusted his garments after hisdescent through the drifts. Knotted veins stood out on his forehead. There was no coherence in the noises he was making in his effort tospeak words. He kept jabbing with his whip handle. 

Evidently Craig's first thought was that the menace of the whip was forhim; he half put up a curved arm to ward off blows. In spite of hisattention to Flagg he surveyed Latisan with considerable astonishment. 

Ward had not recovered his poise. A passenger is usually more perturbedthan a driver in desperate situations. That crazy dash down the cliffhad frightened him into speechless and numb passivity. He still clung tothe jumper seat with his stiffened fingers. 

"Before you do anything you'll be sorry for, Mr. Flagg, let me assureyou that we have the law behind us in what we're doing, " suggestedCraig, with nervous haste. "The legislature extended our charter fordevelopment purposes and a special act protects us. "

Flagg strode away a dozen paces and then came back with better commandover his faculties of speech. "Damn your legislature! What right has itgot to tamper with a landbreak that God Almighty has put betweenwaters?"

"The act was passed, Mr. Flagg. There was an advertised hearing. If youwere interested you should have been there. "

"What does a legislature know about conditions up here?" demanded Flagg, with fury. "They loaf around in swing chairs and hearken to the firstone who gets to 'em. They pass laws with a joker here and a trick there, and they don't know what the law is really about. You're stealing mywater. By the gods! there's no law that allows a thief to operate. Andif you've got a law that helps you steal I'll take my chance on keepingmy own in spite of your pet and private law. "

"Go ahead, Flagg, " said Craig, impudently, no longer apprehensive aboutthe whip. "I'm not your guardian to save you from trouble. There's waterenough for all of us. "

"You have swept the slopes so clean for your cursed pulp-wood sliversthat you have dried up the brooks, and there isn't enough water anymore, and you know it. Your damnation canal will suck the life out ofthe Noda. "

"You listen to me, Flagg!" adjured Craig, getting back all hisconfidence as the executive of a powerful corporation. "Another specialact allows us to raise this dam and conserve the water so that there'llbe plenty after we use our share for the canal. You're safe and----"

"Safe!" raged the old man, and again the veins knotted on his foreheadand he panted for breath. Latisan wanted to urge him to be careful. Flagg was exhibiting the dread symptoms of apoplexy. "Safe! I'll belocked into this dam by you, with sluiceway refused to me--that's whatit will come to--you offering me a cut price for the logs I can't getdown to the Adonia sawmills. If you can't kill one way, as you killedoff the Latisans, you'll kill in another way. You're a devilish thief, Craig. I wonder if the men who hire you know what you are. Special acts, hey? That legislature has given a robber a loaded gun without knowingit. By the bald-headed jeesicks! I've got a drive coming down thisriver! And for fifty years, every spring, it has gone through. It'sgoing through this year, too, and if you're underfoot here you'll bewalked on. And that's just as good as your trumped-up law; it'sbetter--it's justice. "

Flagg acted like a man who did not dare to remain longer in the presenceof such an enemy; his big hands were doubling into hard fists; he wasshaking in all his muscles. He leaped back onto the seat of his jumper, swung his team and sent his horses leaping up a whiplash road whichtraversed the cliff--a road he had disdained in his wild impatience tomeet his foe. 

When they reached the level of the wooded country Flagg had something tosay about his abrupt departure from Craig, as if the master feared thathis employe might suspect that there was an element of flight in thegoing-away. "There's a law against killing a man, and I've got torespect that law even if I do spit on special acts that those gum-shoershave put through. I didn't go down to their legislature and fightspecial acts, Latisan. I found these waters running downhill as GodAlmighty had set 'em to running. I have used 'em for my logs. And if anyman tries now to steal my water at Skulltree, or block me with a raiseddam, there's going to be one devil of a fight at Skulltree and I'll bethere in the middle of it. What I wanted to do to Craig to-day can wellwait till then when the doing can count for full value. "

Ward had been casting solicitous side glances at the empurpled face andthe swollen veins. He did not dare to counsel Flagg as to his motions orhis emotions. But he felt sure that an old man could not indulge in suchtransports without danger. He knew something about the effects of anembolism. His violent grandfather had been a victim of a fit of flaminganger in his old age. 

"I'll be in the middle of it, a club in each hand, " promised Flagg. Andhis molten ponderings kept alight the fires in his face. 

They halted for the night at one of the Flagg store depots and werelodged in the office camp, reserved sacred to the master and his boss. 

Latisan slept in the bunk above the master. 

Flagg had been silent all the evening, poring over the accounts that thestorekeeper had turned over. 

He sighed frequently; he seemed to be weary. After a time he kicked offhis larrigans and rolled into his bunk, ready dressed as he had stood. He seemed to lack the volition to remove his clothing. 

He was snoring calmly when Latisan went to sleep. 

Sometime in the night the young man awoke. The sounds which he heardbelow him were not the snores of a man who was sleeping peacefully. There was something ominous about the spasmodic and stertorousbreathing. 

Latisan slipped to the floor and lighted a lamp. He found the wide eyesof Flagg staring from the gloom of the bunk. 

"What is it, Mr. Flagg? What is the matter?" he asked, with solicitude. 

Flagg slowly reached with his left hand, picked up his right hand, andwhen he released it the hand fell as helplessly as so much dead flesh. "That's it, " he said, without apparent emotion. "It's a shock. " Heemployed the colloquial name for a stroke of paralysis. "My mother wasthat way. I've been afraid of it--have expected it, as you might say. Mother lived ten years after her shock. I hope to God I won't. For ithas taken me just when I'm ready to put up my best fight--and it's mygood right hand, Latisan, my right hand!"

CHAPTER EIGHT

That was Flagg's reiterated lament on the journey back to Adonia. "It'smy right hand, Latisan!"

Ward had insisted on being the charioteer for the stricken master, promising to rush back to headwaters and take charge of the crew. Hetried to console the old man by urging that getting in touch as soon aspossible with capable doctors might restore his strength. "It may beonly a clot in the brain, sir. Such cases have been helped. "

"It's my right hand. It's like my mother's. She never could lift itagain. "

They had started before dawn; a gibbous moon shed enough light on thetote road to serve Latisan. Flagg was couched on a sled, his blanketpropped up by hay. His scepter, the curiously marked cant dog, laybeside him. He had made sure of that before he allowed the team tostart. 

"I propose to be your right hand in so far as I'm able, Mr. Flagg, "declared Latisan, at last, pricked by the repeatedly iterated plaint. "You can depend on me just as far as I can stretch my ability. "

"But you told me you didn't like me for myself. You said you werejoining drives with me because I was proposing to fight. Now I can'tfight. No man will do my fighting for me unless he likes me for myself. "

"I'll do it for you, sir, " insisted Ward, determinedly. "It's right inline with my plans. I'll take your orders. I'll come to you regularly atAdonia. You shall know every move. I'll be merely your right hand to dowhat you want done. "

"I'm a hard man with my help, Latisan. You have agreed with me on thatpoint. I shall be ugly when I'm chained up. I shall say something toyou, and then you'll quit. "

Latisan had been looking the situation squarely in the eye on his ownaccount. He was confronted by something wholly outside all hiscalculations. He had enlisted merely as a lieutenant and had neverconsidered that he would be called on to assume authority as chief inthe field. He had been led to serve with Flagg because the old man wasthe personification of permanency in the north country--seemed to besomething that could not be shaken by the assaults of the Comas--a manwho impressed all as being above the hazards of death and accident. Somehow, after all the years and because he had been there as a fixturethrough so many changes, Echford Flagg was viewed as somethingperennial--as sure as sunrise, as solid and everlasting as the peak ofJerusalem Knob, which overshadowed the big house on the ledges atAdonia; he was a reality to tie to in a fight against a common foe. 

But right then he was a whimpering old man who plucked and fumbled at adead right hand. 

He was as helpless as a little man whom Latisan had plucked from abrutal clutch of an assailant in front of a bulletin board. Craig wasstill able enough. Craig was man size. Craig would be even more viciouswhen the news of Flagg's condition reached him; he would perceive hisopportunity. 

"It's sort of the code up where I come from. There's no objection to aclean fight. But if you don't pick your bigness you must expect thatyour bigness will offer himself mighty sudden. " Latisan was notrecollecting what he had said to the chaps of Tech; he was puttingbefore his mind one of his fundamental principles as he listened to thelaments of the stricken giant and urged the horses down the tote road. Craig would keep on fighting; but Flagg was no longer of Craig'sbigness. There was only one thing for Latisan to do--so that was why heput so much of determination and warmth into his pledges to a man whomhe did not like from a personal standpoint. Flagg could not understandwhy this stranger should be loyal; the old man's wits were numbed alongwith his body. 

"I'll be ripping at you with my tongue, because it's been my style--andI'll be worse when I'm penned up. " Flagg could not seem to hope for anyreform in himself. He was accepting his nature as something forgedpermanently in the fires of his experience, not to be remolded. 

"I'm not thin-skinned, sir. If you can't keep from abusing me aboutbusiness details, go ahead and abuse. It will ease your feelings and theabuse will not hurt me, because I don't propose to do anything knowinglyto justify abuse. Twitting on real facts is what hurts. You hired mebecause you knew I had good reasons for fighting the Comas on account ofthe principle involved in the stand of the independents; you know thatI still have the reasons, no matter how much your tongue may run awaywith you about foolish details. "

He was looking forward to an opportunity to place himself even moredefinitely on record in the hearing of Flagg. After the sun was upLatisan expected to be able to grasp that opportunity at almost any turnof the tote road. He knew he would meet the upcoming crew. Flagg'shorses on the trip north had made twice the speed of the plodding woodsteams, and the crew had been ordered to spend the night at any campwhere darkness overtook them. 

Latisan heard, long before he came in sight of them, the shrill yellswith which sled load interchanged repartee with sled load; everlastinglythere was the monotone of the singers. It was plain that the same spiritof gay adventure was inspiring the men. 

The tote road was a one-track thoroughfare; Latisan picked a clearedknoll at one side for his turnout switch and swung his horses up therein order to give the heavy sleds passage. 

"How the hell can they come singing? Stop 'em, " moaned Flagg. 

There were half a dozen sleds in close procession, and Ward's upflunghand halted them when the leading sled came abreast. 

By his own efforts Flagg propped himself into a sitting posture, bracedby his left arm. 

Men leaped off the sleds and crowded forward in a phalanx, cupping withtheir ranks the sledge where their master was couched. Voices werehushed and eyes were wide. 

"I've been hit a wallop, boys, " quavered the old man. "Overnight it hashit me. Shock. It ain't surprising at my age. Mother had the same. "

For that moment Flagg had put aside the shell of his nature; he foundinstant sympathy in the gaze which rough men of the forest bestowed on astricken one of their ilk. He was responding to that sympathy. Therewere tears in his eyes. 

"Men, I'm hurrying Mr. Flagg home where he can be looked after by thedoctors. I'm sure he'll soon be all right again, " Latisan assured them, lying for the good of the cause. "In the meantime I'm saying to him formyself that I'm standing by for every ounce that's in me. What do yousay to him?"

"The same!" they yelled, in a ragged chorus. 

"Fact is, " went on Ward, as spokesman for all, "to make up for your notbeing with us, Mr. Flagg, we've got to put in twice as many licksbecause you're not on the job, and you can depend on us. What, boys?"

They bellowed promises and shrieked a pledge. 

"Get along to headwaters and start to rolling the jackstraws onto theice, " shouted Latisan. "Have the dynamite warmed when I get back there. If we have to do it, well beat the April rains to the job. "

They went on their way, cheering. 

"You've heard us. It ought to help some, " stated Ward, urging his teamalong toward Adonia. 

"The songs of the angels never will sound any better, and the angelswill never look any better than those men did just now, " declared theold man, still in his softened mood. 

Latisan turned about and grinned at the master. 

"I know what you mean, " averred Flagg. "Of course I know. I was afterpirates and I've got the toughest gang in the north country. Feed 'emraw meat, Latisan!"

Over the snow, which was slushy under the April sun of midday, andfinally into Adonia over the rutted grit that the evening chill hadfrozen, the baron of the Noda was driven to the door of his mansion onthe ledges. 

Latisan had picked up men at the tavern as helpers. 

A hail brought out a little old man whose white, close beard and fluffyhair gave his face the appearance of a likeness set into a frame ofcotton batting. It was Rickety Dick; Brophy had told Latisan about him. He flung his hands above his head; it was his involuntary action whendeep emotion stirred him; and his customary ejaculation was, "Praise theLord!" It was possible that he would have shouted those words even thenwithout regard to their irrelevance; but he was not able to utter asound when Brophy and Latisan and the other men came bearing Flagg intothe house. 

The master stoutly refused to be laid in his bed. There was his bigarmchair in the middle of the sitting room; he commanded that he beplaced there. "I can't fight lying down. If I can't stand up, I can situp. "

"Praise the Lord!" cried old Dick, finding an opportunity to interjecthis thanksgiving phrase. 

"I'll come to you often, Mr. Flagg, " promised Ward, taking leave. "I'llnot neglect matters up the river, of course. But I want you to feel thatI'm merely your right hand, moving according to your orders. "

He went away with a thrill of sympathy inspiring his new resolution inbehalf of the master's interests. The spectacle that he closed the dooron had pathos in it. The tyrant of the Noda was shut away from the woodswhere he had ruled--away from the rush of white water under the prow ofhis great bateau; he could hear only the tantalizing summons of thecataract whose thunder boomed above the village of Adonia. 

Latisan had promised to send for the best doctors in the city--he had amessenger already on the way. But he knew well enough that EchfordFlagg, if he lived, was doomed to sit in that big chair and wield hisscepter vicariously. And Latisan knew, too, what sort of the torments ofperdition Flagg would endure on that account. 

In the office of Brophy's tavern Rufus Craig, apparently a casualwayfarer, was sitting when Latisan entered after leaving the big houseon the ledges. 

Craig either felt or assumed contrite concern. "Excuse me, Latisan, butis it true that Mr. Flagg has suffered a stroke of paralysis?"

"It is true, sir. "

"I'm sorry. I'm not on pleasant terms with him, or with you, for thatmatter. But I hate to see a good fighter struck down. "

Latisan went to the desk and wrote his name on a leaf of the dog-earedregister. He proposed to stay the night at Brophy's and start north inthe morning. 

"Go up and take Number Ten, " said Brophy, who had been called as ahelper and who had walked down from the mansion with Latisan. 

When Craig plodded heavily along the upper corridor, on his way to bed alittle later, the door of Number Ten was open for ventilation; Latisanwas smoking his pipe and reading a newspaper which he had picked up inthe tavern office. His stare, directed at Craig over the top of thenewspaper, was inhospitable when the Comas man stopped and leanedagainst the door jamb. 

"Latisan, I'm presuming on that frankness of yours; you have braggedabout it in the past. "

"That was before my experience with you in the Walpole matter, sir. Butgo ahead! What do you want?"

"You're over here in the Noda region, according to your threat. You maybe willing to inform me as to your status in the Flagg proposition, nowthe old man is on his back. "

"Mr. Flagg has put me in full charge of his drive. "

"Has he delegated to you any authority to compromise?"

"No, sir!"

"There ought to be an opportunity to compromise, now that he's down andout. "

"I just left Mr. Flagg sitting in his chair, and he says he intends tokeep sitting there. Therefore, he isn't down. "

"Is his mind clear for business?"

"I should say so--yes!"

Craig tipped his hat and scratched the side of his head. "Then I'mafraid there isn't much use in my going to him to talk compromise, " heconfessed. 

"That's your affair, Mr. Craig. "

"And your affair--where he's concerned----"

"Is to bring down his drive. "

"He has threatened a big fight at Skulltree. You heard him. "

"Yes. "

"And if he gives his orders to blow hell out of the bottom of the river, I suppose you'll obey, eh?"

"He has ordered me to bring his logs into the hold-boom here at Adonia. I have promised to do so. I see no need of going into details of how I'mto do it. " Latisan raised the shield of his newspaper in front of hisface. 

But Craig persisted. He had promised the Noda to his superiors; he hadnot been sure how he could maneuver to deliver, but his past success hadimpelled him to go on with his cocksure pledges of performance; he wasspurred by a hint of a raise in salary, a gift of Comas common stock; hehad depended on the situation at Skulltree as his principal weapon, ifbravado backed the special legislative act. But that act had beenjuggled, just as Echford Flagg had asserted. The thing was ticklish, andCraig knew it. Anger and apprehensiveness were working twin leverage onthe Comas executive. 

"Latisan, by coming over here into the Noda and grabbing in where youhave no timber interests of your own, you have shown your animus. Youhave made it a personal matter between you and me. "

"There's a lot of truth in what you say, " admitted Ward, lowering hisshield. "Let's exchange accusations! You held that Walpole heir up yoursleeve till we had our cut on the landings. If you had worked such atrick on my grandfather he wouldn't be sitting on this chair, as I'mdoing. He'd be kicking you around this tavern. I'll save my strength forthe Flagg drive. "

"I've got some frankness of my own, Latisan. I'm at a point where myfuture with the Comas is in the balance, and I'm going to fight for thatfuture. I'm not asking you to lie down. But you have it in yourpower--the circumstances being as they are--to swing the Flagg interestsin with ours to mutual advantage. Why isn't that better than a fight?"

"It would be better!"

Craig brightened. 

But Latisan added: "For your interests! You're afraid of a fight--atSkulltree!"

"Yes, I am, " blurted Craig, trying candor. "Let's arrange a hitch-up!"

"Now the trouble with that plan is this, " returned Latisan, quietly, slowly. "It can't be done, not with a man like you've shown yourself tobe. Hold in your temper, Mr. Craig! You're coming round now to asksquare men to deal with you. You can't appeal on the ground offriendship--you haven't tried to make any friends up here. You haveplayed too many tricks. We're all doubtful in regard to your good faith, no matter what the proposition may be. We can't deal with you. It's allyour own doing. You are paying the penalty. "

"Much obliged for the sermon!"

"I could say a lot more, but it wouldn't amount to anything in yourcase. "

"Then it has settled into a personal fight between you and me, has it?"

"Bluntly speaking, yes!"

"You have accused me of playing tricks!" Craig's rage burst bounds. "Youyoung hick, you have never seen real tricks yet! You don't think I'mcoming after you with fists or a cant dog, do you?"

"I wish you were younger and would try it!"

"I'm from the city. In the city we use our brains. Latisan, I have triedto show you in the past that the Comas means business. If you'll go backto the Toban, where you belong, I'll do something for you on thatWalpole matter, now that I've taught you a lesson. "

"The Latisans are not out after charity, Mr. Craig. "

"You're out after punishment--a damnation good smashing, personally, andyou're going to get it!"

Latisan leaped from his chair and slammed the door suddenly andviolently; expecting an attack. Craig leaped back and saved his fingersfrom a jamming. 

From behind his curtain in the morning he saw Latisan drive the Flaggteam into the tavern yard. 

"I'll be coming down often, Brophy, to see Mr. Flagg. I'll depend on youto save out a room for me. "

"Number Ten is yours if it suits. "

Craig grunted with the satisfaction of one who had received interestinginformation; knowledge that Latisan would be regularly in Adonia helpedsome plans which the director had been revolving. 

Latisan lashed his horses away toward the north. 

Craig took the forenoon train down over the narrow-gauge, headed for NewYork. He was seeking that aid of which he had boasted--city brains. Inhandling certain affairs of his in the past he had found the Vose-MernDetective Agency both crafty and active--and the roundabout method ofcraft, he decided, was the proper way to get at Latisan, withoutinvolving the Comas folks in any scandal. 

CHAPTER NINE

Not cattishly, but with patronizing pity, Miss Leigh, bookkeeper, remarked to Miss Javotte, filing clerk, that if Miss Kennard did notchange that green toque with the white quill to something else prettysoon, she could be identified by her hat better than by herfingerprints. 

Miss Leigh had been showing one of her new spring hats to Miss Javotte;she was able to express a _sotto voce_ opinion about Miss Kennard'stoque because Miss Kennard, stenographer, was rattling her typewriterfull tilt. Miss Javotte agreed, spreading her fingers fan shape andinspecting certain rings with calm satisfaction. "And not even arock--only that same old-fashioned cameo thing--speaking of fingers. "

"I was speaking of fingerprints, " said Miss Leigh, tartly, frowning atthe display of rings, perfectly well aware that they were not bought onthe installment plan out of a filing clerk's wages. 

It was quite natural for Miss Leigh to speak of fingerprints. She was anemploye in the Vose-Mern offices. "Vose-Mern Bureau of Investigation"was the designation on the street corridor directory board of a buildingin the purlieus of New York City Hall. On the same board other partiesfrankly advertised themselves as detectives. The Vose-Mern agency calledits men and women by the name of operatives. The scope of itsactivities was unlimited. It broke strikes, put secret agents intomanufacturing concerns to stimulate efficiency, or calculatingly and incold blood put other agents in to wreck a concern in the interests of arival. It was a matter of fees. Mern could defend the ethics of suchprocedure with interesting arguments; he had been an inspector of policeand held ironic views of human nature; he had invented an anticipatorysystem, so he called it, by which he "hothoused" criminal proclivitiesin a person in order to show the person's latent possibilities up to anemployer before damage had been wrought to the employer's business orfunds. That is to say--and this for the proper understanding of Mr. Mern's code in his operations as he moved in the special matters ofwhich this tale treats--his agency deliberately set women of the typewell hit off by the name "vamps"; "sicked" those women onto bank clerksand others who could get a hand into a till, and if the women were ableto cajole the victim to the point of stealing or of grabbing in order tomake a get-away to foreign parts with the temptress, the trick wasconsidered legitimate work of the "anticipatory" sort. The operativewould order the treasure _cached_, would appoint the day and hour forthe get-away--and a plain-clothes man would be waiting at the _cache_!The Vose-Mern system thus nabbed the culprit, who had revealed his lackof moral fiber by reason of the hothouse forcing of the situation; Merninsisted that if the germ were there it should be forced. By his planthe loot was pulled back and returned to the owner. 

Mern had broken the big paper-mill strike for the Comas Consolidated;he calmly assured his clients that he could furnish a thousand men aswell as one. When he did a thing it was expensive--for he had bands ofpicked men always on call, and the men must be paid during their loafingintervals, waiting for other strikes. 

Craig had been close to Mern during the strike. Mern stated that theethics of the law allowed a lawyer to defend and extricate, if he could, a criminal whom he knew was hideously guilty; the lawyer's smartness wasapplauded if he won by law against justice. Mern excused on the samelines his willingness to accept any sort of a commission. It was aheartless attitude--Mern admitted that it was and said that he didn'tpose as a demon. He seemed to get a lot of comfort out of declaring thatif the fellow he was chasing had the grit and smartness to turn aroundand do Mern up, Mern would heartily give the fellow three cheers. Thusdid Mern put his remarkable business on the plane of a man-to-man fightby his argument, not admitting that there was any baseness in his plotsand his persecution. 

Miss Lida Kennard, as confidential stenographer, was deep into themethods of Mern. It was Mern's unvarying custom to have Miss Kennard into listen to and take down all that a client had to state. She wasextremely shocked in the first stages of her association with theVose-Mern agency by the nature of the commissions undertaken. But it wasthe best position she had secured, after climbing the ladder through theoffices of more or less impecunious attorneys. She needed the good paybecause her mother was an invalid; she continued to need the pay afterher mother died. There were bills to be settled. She had grown used tosetting the installments on those bills ahead of new hats, and the cameoring which had been her mother's keepsake was for the sake of memory, not adornment. 

By dint of usage, the Vose-Mern business had come to seem to her like areal business. Certainly some big men came and solicited Mern's aid andappeared to think that his methods were proper. In course of time, listening to Mern's ethics, she came to accept matters at theirpractical value and ceased to analyze them for the sake of seeking fornice balances of right and wrong. She was in and of the Vose-Mernorganization! She sat in on conferences, wrote down placidly plots fordoing up men who had not had the foresight to hire Mern--Vose had beenmerely an old detective, and he was dead--and she sometimes entertaineda vague ambition to be an operative herself. She liked pretty hats andhandsome rings--though she was scornfully averse to the Leigh-Javottesystem as she was acquainted with it by the chance remarks theassociates dropped. As to operatives--Miss Kennard had heard--well, shehad heard Miss Elsham, for instance, a crack operative, reveal what therewards of the regular work were; and, the way Miss Elsham looked at it, a girl did not have to lower her self-respect. 

In the midst of these thoughts, getting a side glance at the new hatwhich Miss Leigh was showing to Miss Javotte, Miss Kennard was called toconference; the buzzer summoned her. 

Mern introduced her to the client of the day; the chief made that hiscustom; it always seemed to put the client more at his ease because anintroduction made her an important member of the party--and Mernstressed the "confidential secretary" thing. 

The client was Director Craig of the Comas company. 

He rose with a haste which betrayed a natural susceptibility to thecharms of pretty women. He cooed at her rather than spoke, altering hisnatural tone, smoothing out all the harshness; it was that clumsygallantry by which coarse men strive to pay court to charm. 

The girl warranted the approving gaze which Mr. Craig gave to her. Helooked from her frank eyes to her copper-bronze hair, which seemed tohave a glint of sunshine in its waves. He liked the uplift of that roundchin--he remembered that it had seemed to indicate spirit--and he likedspunk in a girl. He had enjoyed the conferences of the days of thestrike-breaking when he could survey her profile as she busied herselfwith her writing, admiring the beauty curve of her lips. 

Now he was thrilled by her manner of recognition; he had not expectedthat much. 

"I remember you, Mr. Craig, " she assured the big man, her fingers asfirm in the grip as were his. "You were in here so much on the strikematter two years ago. "

"That's a long time for a New York young lady to remember a man from thenorth woods. "

"To save myself from seeming like a flatterer, I must say it's becauseof the woods feature that I remember you so well. The forest interestsme. I'm afraid I'm inclined to be very foolish about the woods. Why, ina cafeteria--last fall--there was----"

But she checked herself and flushed. She turned to Mern. "I beg yourpardon. I'm ready. " She sat down and opened her notebook. 

"But what about it?" quizzed Craig. 

"A mere chance meeting with a man from the north country. I really don'tunderstand why I mentioned it. My interest in the woods--the thought ofthe woods--tripped my tongue. " She nodded to the stolid Mern as if toremind him of the business in hand, and Mern ducked his square head atCraig. 

It was the habit of Mern to go thoroughly over a case with a clientbefore calling in Miss Kennard. At the second going-over in her presencethe topic was better shaken down, was in a more solidified form for hernotebook. The Comas director had already told his story once to thechief. 

Craig leaned back in his chair and gazed up at the ceiling, againcollecting his data in his mind. He had dictated before to Miss Kennardand knew how Mern wanted his names and his facts. "Subject, the springdrives on the Noda water. Object, hanging up or blocking the independentdrive of Echford Flagg and----"

Miss Kennard's pencil slipped somehow. It fell from her fingers, bouncedfrom the floor on its rubber tip, and ticked off the sharpened leadwhen it hit the floor again. 

Lida darted for it, picked it up, and ran out of the room. "I'm goingfor another, " she explained. 

She was gone for some time. Craig glanced out of the window into theslaty sky, from which rain was falling. It was a day unseasonably warmand humid for early spring. "I hope it's raining in the Noda. But it'sjust as liable to be snow. Latisan can't do much yet awhile. " He lookedat his watch as if starting the Noda drives was a matter of minutes. Hewas showing some impatience when Miss Kennard returned. She went to thewindow, and sat in a chair there, her face turned from them. "If youdon't mind, " she apologized. "It's on account of the light. I can hearperfectly from here. "

She heard then that the Comas wanted to put Echford Flagg down and outas an operator, now that paralysis had stricken him. She had Craig'sassurance delivered to Mern that, without a certain Ward Latisan oldFlagg would not be able to bring his drive down. The Comas directordeclared that an ordinary boss could never get along with the devils whomade up the crew. He declared further that Latisan was of a sort to suitdesperadoes and had put into the crew some kind of fire which made themen dangerous to vested interests on the river. He devoted himself toLatisan with subdued profanity, despite the presence of the young woman. He averred that Latisan himself had no love for Flagg--nobody up-countrygave a tinker's hoot for Flagg, anyway. He insisted, desperate in spiteof certain modifying private convictions, that Latisan could be priedoff the job if some kind of a tricky influence could be brought to bearor if his interest in the fight, as just a fight, could be dulled orshifted to something else or side-tracked by a ruse. He pictured Flaggas a man for whom nobody would stand up in his present state, now thathe was sick and out of the game. 

"I hate to kick a cripple, even in my business, " demurred Mern. "I haveflashes of decency, " he continued, dryly. "You seem to be particularlyset on getting to the lumberjack, Latisan. Can't you do him up, and thenlet Flagg have half a show for this season--probably his last?"

"Now you're talking of violence to Latisan, aren't you?"

"Let the plug-ugly have what he seems to be looking for, " advised Mern. "That is, if I get it straight from you what his nature is. "

"He's all of that--what I have said, " reaffirmed Craig, venomously. "Butlook here, Mern, you can't go up into that region, where everything iswide open to all men, and kill a man or abduct him. I'm obliged togum-shoe. I have to keep my own executive details away from the homeoffice, even. We're waiting on the courts for law and on the legislaturefor more favors. " Craig was sweating copiously, and he wiped hisforehead with the back of his hand. "It's touchy business. If I can pullold Flagg into camp, it's my biggest stroke outside of nailing theLatisans in the Tomah. A monopoly will give us settled prices andcontrol of the flowage. But I insist on doing the job through Latisan. I'm after him! Now do some thinking for me. No violence, however--nothing which can be traced to the Three C's. "

In the silence Miss Kennard asked, "How do you spell Latisan, Mr. Craig?"

He told her. "First name Ward. He's the grandson of old John of theTomah. "

"I'm trying to get the facts straight for Mr. Mern. Do I understand youto say that the Latisans have failed in their business?"

"They're down and out. I gave the young fool a good tip to save theremnants, but he wouldn't take it. The only thing I'll give him afterthis is poison--if it can't be traced to me or my company. "

Mern had swung about in his chair, his vacant stare on the murky sky, doing the thinking to which he had been exhorted by his client. "SupposeI slip a picked crowd of my operatives into his crew?"

"He's too wise to take on strangers. And while he's on the job with thecrew the men are so full of that hell-whoop spirit that they can't betampered with. Mern, he's got to be cut out of the herd. "

"What's his particular failing?"

Craig, if his sour rage against Latisan had been less intense, mighthave been less ready to believe that Latisan had taken several monthsoff as a prodigal son. But Craig wanted to believe that the young manhad been doing what scandal said he had done. That belief strengthenedCraig's hopes. He affected to believe in the reports. He told Mern thatLatisan had been leading a sporting life in the city until the familymoney gave out. 

"How about bumping him on his soft spot?"

Craig asked questions with his eyes, blinking away the perspiration. 

"With a girl, " Mern explained. "With one who looks as if she had beenpicked right out of the rosy middle of the big bouquet he was attractedby in the city. With the background of the woods, a single bloomer willsurely hold his attention. "

Craig showed interest; he had been obliged to pass up violence, bribery, bluster. This new plan promised subtlety and subterfuge that would letout the Three C's. "Got her?"

"Call Miss Elsham on the phone, Miss Kennard! You may do it from theother room. Ask her to hurry down. "

The girl, her face hidden from them, paused at the door. "Are there morenotes? Shall I come back?" She was having difficulty with her voice, butthe men were now talking eagerly about the new plan, and herdiscomposure was not remarked. 

"I think not, " said Mern. "Write out what you have. Make especially fullcharacterizations of Flagg and Latisan as you have gathered facts aboutthem from our talk. " He had found Miss Kennard to be especially apt inthat work. Not only did she deduce character from descriptions, but sheworked in many valuable suggestions as to how men of a certain natureshould be handled. She seemed to understand the vagaries of men'sdispositions very well indeed. 

"What's the matter with Ken?" muttered Miss Javotte, nudging thebookkeeper. 

Lida had flung her arms across the frame of her typewriter and hadhidden her face in her hands. 

"Headache, " returned Miss Leigh, sapiently. "That toque has struck intothe brain. No girl ought to take chances that way. "

CHAPTER TEN

However, by the time Miss Marguerite Elsham--having given full attentionto her person and attire--arrived at the office, Miss Kennard hadcompleted her manuscript and the sheets were lying at Mern's elbow onhis desk. 

In order to bridge a part of the gap of waiting Mern had given hisclient some information about Miss Elsham and her ability. 

"Very competent on the coax, Mr. Craig. Last job was a paying teller. Hehad twenty thousand in his jeans when he stepped out of the taxi thathad taken him and Elsham to the steamer dock. Tickets for Rio! Crowley, our pinch artist, nabbed him and bawled out Elsham, who was weeping inthe cab. Crowley and Elsham work well together. You understand that ifshe goes to the woods Crowley must go along on the side. They won'tappear as knowing each other. But Crowley may be called on to shove hismitt between Elsham and trouble. "

"I don't care how many are on pay--if you achieve results, " said Craig. 

The field director, introduced to Miss Elsham when she entered breezily, termed her in his thoughts as being at least a 1925 model. He wonderedjust what words he would find in the way of advice about toning down herstyle for north country operations. 

She took her seat sideways on the edge of Mern's desk, thus testifyingto her sure standing in the establishment, her tightly drawn skirtdisplaying an attractive contour. For a fleeting moment--hating Latisanso venomously--Craig rather envied Latisan his prospects as a victim. 

Miss Elsham produced a silver cigarette case, lighted up, and exhaledtwin streams of smoke from a shapely nose. "Shoot!" she counseled. 

Mern, after his slow fashion, fumbled with the sheets of Miss Kennard'smanuscript. 

Miss Elsham thriftily utilized the moments allowed her by Mern'shesitation. She always tried to impress a client favorably. "I don'tpresume to pick and choose when it comes to cases, " she informed Craig. "I'm an All-for-the-good-cause Anne! But I hope--I'm allowed to hope, Isuppose--I do hope that my next one is going to remember some of thelessons he learned at mother's knee. The last one had forgotteneverything. I was dragged through cafés till at the present time ared-shaded table lamp and a menu card make me want to bite holes in anyman with a napkin over his arm. I've danced to jazz and listened tocabaret----"

Mern was trying to say something, but she rattled on: "And that flask onhis hip--he must have done all his breathing while he was asleep; henever allowed time enough between drinks while he was awake. "

"The next one is different, " stated Mern. 

"Much obliged! But of course it's cafés again and----"

Mern sliced off her complaints, chopping his flat hand to and fro inthe air. "Nothing to it, sis! It's a tall-timber job, this time. "

"In the woods--the real woods, " supplemented Craig. 

"Great!" indorsed Miss Elsham, accustomed to meeting all phases ofaction with agility. "I've just seen a movie with that kind of a girl init. Leggings and knicks. I can see myself. Great!"

Director Craig surveyed her and nodded approvingly. 

"We'll decide on what part you'll play before we measure you for a rig, "objected the chief, with his official caution. "Listen to the size-up ofyour man. " He began to read from Miss Kennard's manuscript. "'WardLatisan. Young woodsman. Has lived and worked among rough men and has noparticular amount of moral stamina, a fact shown by his desertion of hisfather in time of need in order to indulge in orgies in the city. '"

"Oh, it's to go and set my hook and fish him out of the woods, and thenhe and I lean on our elbows across from each other--the cafés somemore, " said Miss Elsham, pouting. 

Mern suspended, for a moment, his reading and addressed Craig. "MissKennard, of course, is sizing up according to what you have said ofLatisan. You're sure about his weakness for dames, are you? We don'twant to give Miss Elsham any wrong tips. "

Craig hung tenaciously to his estimate of Latisan, in no mood to uprootthe opinion which gossip had implanted and hatred had watered. And atthe end of his arraignment he attempted an awkward compliment. "Andeven if he could have stood out against the Queen of Sheba up till now, I'll say he'll----" Craig gazed with humid indorsement of Miss Elsham'sattractions and waved his hand in the way of a mute completion of thesentence. 

Miss Elsham smiled broadly and patted together her manicured thumbnails. "Loud applause!" she cried. "Pardon me if I don't blush, sir. I haveused up my stock. The last case was oozing with flattery--after theflask had got in its work. "

Mern went on with his reading, portraying the character of Latisan asMiss Kennard had gathered and assimilated data. She had even gone to theextent of giving Latisan a black mustache and evil eyes. 

"Hold on, " objected Craig. "Nothing was said about his looks. She'spicking that up because I was strong on how he had acted. He doesn'tlook as savage as he is; he fools a lot of folks that way, " statedCraig, in surly tones. 

"Well, how will I know when I meet up with him in the woods?"

"You go to the Adonia tavern and make your headquarters, and you won'tmiss him. How does the thing look to you as a proposition?" demandedCraig, solicitously. "You ought to know pretty well what you can do withmen, by this time. "

Miss Elsham tossed away her cigarette butt and referred mutely to Mernby a wave of her hand. 

"She always gets 'em--gets the better of the best of 'em. Rest easy, "said the chief. 

"And it must be worked easy, " warned Craig, catching at the word. "That's why you're in it, Miss Elsham, instead of its being a man'sfight up there. We can't afford to let Latisan slam that drive downthrough our logs, as he threatens to do. If he does it--if we turn onFlagg and sue for damages, as we can do, of course--court action willonly bring out a lot of stuff that better be kept covered. I want theagency to understand fully, Mern!"

"We're on. "

"I'm achieving results without showing all the details to the homeoffice. And I'm not a pirate. You spoke of kicking a cripple, Mern. We'll take over Flagg's logs as soon as he gets reasonable. His fight isonly an old notion about the independents sticking on. Sawmills are inour way these days. Flagg is done, anyway. He ought to be saved fromhimself. I'm after Latisan. He's ready to fight and to ruin Flagg, "declared Mr. Craig, with a fine assumption of righteous desire to aid afallen foe, "just to carry out his grudge against me--using Flagg'sproperty as his tool. It'll be too bad. So get busy, Miss Elsham--andkeep him busy--off the drive. "

"Read on, Chief, " she implored Mern. "I'm seeing as quick as this justhow I'll do it. "

The conference continued. 

When Miss Elsham departed she stopped in the main office on her way out. "Good-by, girls! I'm off for the big sticks. I'll bring each of you atree. "

She went to a mirror, taking out her vanity case. Beside the mirror werehooks for hats and outer garments. "Perfect dream!" she commented, examining a hat. "Whose?"

"Mine, " said Miss Leigh. 

Miss Elsham took the hat in admiring hands, dislodging a green toque, which fell upon the floor. She did not notice the mishap to the toqueand left it where it had fallen. She touched up her countenance and wentaway. 

"Your hat is on the floor, " Miss Leigh informed Miss Kennard. The girldid not reply; she was looking down upon the keys of her typewriter, andher demeanor suggested that her heart was on the floor, too. 

When Lida sat by the open window of her room that evening her depressionhad become doleful to the point of despair. 

The night was unseasonably warm with enervating humidity; in thatatmosphere the dormant germs of the girl's general disgust with themetropolis and all its affairs were incubated. Breathing the heavy airwhich sulked at the window, she pondered on the hale refreshment of thenorthern forests. But it seemed to her that there was no honesty in thewoods any more. That day, fate searching her out at last, she had beendragged in as a party in a plot against her stricken grandfather. Sheindulged her repugnance to her employment; it had become hateful beyondall endurance. Her association with the cynical business of the agencyand her knowledge of the ethics of Mern had been undermining thefoundations of her own innate sense of what was inherently right, shereflected, taking account of stock. 

Dispassionately considered, it was not right for her to use her acquiredknowledge of the plot against Echford Flagg in order to circumvent theplans of an employer who trusted her. But after a while she resolutelybroke away from the petty business of weighing the right and the wrongagainst each other; she was bold enough to term it petty business in herthoughts and realized fully, when she did so, that her Vose-Mernoccupation had damaged her natural rectitude more than she hadapprehended. 

But there was something more subtle, on that miasmatic metropolitannight, something farther back than the new determination to break awayfrom Mern and all his works of mischief. It was not merely a call offamily loyalty, a resolve to stand by the grandfather who had disownedhis kin. She was not sure how much she did care for the hard old man ofthe woods. But right then, without her complete realization of what thesubtle feeling was, the avatar of the spirit of the Open Places wasrising in her. She longed avidly for the sight and the sound of manysoughing trees. She was urged to go to her own in some far place whereher feet could touch the honest earth instead of being insulated by thepavements which were stropped glossy by the hurry of the multitude. 

That urge really was just as insistent as consideration of the personalelements involved, though she did not admit it, not being able toanalyze her emotions very keenly right then. Family affection needspropinquity and service to develop it. Her sentiments in regard toEchford Flagg were vague. This Latisan, whoever he was, was plainly arough character with doubtful morals who was loyal to a grudge insteadof to her grandfather. She knew what the Elsham girl had been able towith other men, in the blasé city; it stood to reason that in the woods, having no rivals to divert the attentions of a victim, Elsham would bestill more effective. 

At last, having kept her thoughts away from an especial topic because ofthe shame that still dwelt with her, Lida faced what she knew was thereal and greater reason for her growing determination to step betweenEchford Flagg and his enemies. Alfred Kennard had stolen money fromEchford Flagg. Sylvia Kennard had grieved her heart out over the thing. There were the bitter letters which Lida had found among her mother'spapers after Sylvia died. The mother had torn the name from the bottomsof those letters; it was as if she had endeavored to shield EchfordFlagg from the signed proof of utter heartlessness. 

The debt to Echford Flagg had not been canceled. Could the daughter ofAlfred Kennard repay in some degree for the sake of the father? Thatsense of duty surmounted all qualms involved in the betrayal of anemployer, if it could be called betrayal, considering the ethics thathad been adopted and preached by Mern. 

It was midnight when she reached her firm decision. She would go to thenorth country. She would do her best, single-handed, as opportunitymight present itself. She would fight without allowing her grandfatherto know her identity. Perhaps she might tell him when it was all over, if she won. The debt was owed by the father; it might help if it wasknown that the daughter had paid. Then she would go away; it was not inher mind to gain any favor for herself. If she merely ran to him, tattling an exposure of the plot, Echford Flagg, if her well-groundedestimate of his character were correct, might repudiate her as a meretale-bearer; she remembered enough to know that he was a square fighter. She felt that she had some of the Flagg spirit of that sort in her. Shehad been fighting her battle with the world without asking odds ofanybody or seeking favors from her only kin. 

She would go north and do her best, for her own, according to the codeshe had laid down. 

She was conscious then, having made up her mind, of the subtle longingthat was back of the fierce impatience to repay her father's debt: thewoods of the north and the hale spirit of the Open Places were callingher home again. 

She would not admit to herself that she was engaged in a quixoticenterprise, and in order to keep herself from making that admission sheresolutely turned her thoughts away from plans. To ponder on plans wouldsurely sap her courage. She could not foresee what would confront her inthe north country and she was glad because her ideas on that point werehazy. It was not in her mind to hide herself from the other operativesof the Vose-Mern agency when she was at the scene; her experience hadacquainted her with the efficacy of guile in working with human nature, and she was well aware that her bold presence where the operatives weremaking their campaign would prove such a mixture of honesty and guilethat Miss Elsham and Crowley, and even Mern, himself, when he learned, would be obliged to expend a portion of their energy on guessing. 

She did not know how or whether one girl could prevail against theorganization threatening her grandfather and Latisan, but she was fullydetermined to find out. 

She served the agency dutifully for one more day. She learned that thetwo operatives had started for the north. 

A day later she departed from New York on their trail. She did notinform Chief Mern that she was leaving. 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Adonia, terminus of the narrow-gauge, has one train arrival per day, inthe late afternoon. That arrival always attracts the populace of thevillage. The train brings freight and mail and passengers. 

Ward Latisan had come down from the headwaters of the Noda and was atthe station, waiting for the train. He had ordered more dynamite for thedrive and proposed to take especial charge of the consignment. The drivewas starting off slowly. There was ice in the gorges; the first logsthrough would have the freshet head of water. Latisan had heard morethreats and he had definitely detected the trigs which the river bossesof the Three C's were laying--and he had ordered more dynamite!

The arriving train dragged slowly into the station and Latisan kept pacewith the freight car which was attached next behind the locomotive. 

The conductor swung off the steps of the coach before the train halted. He hailed Latisan, calling the name loudly. He beckoned with vigor andthe drive master swung around and walked back to meet the trainman. 

"I did my best, Latisan, to have your shipment loaded from the freightcar on the main line, but they wouldn't let me. "

"Who wouldn't?"

"Our super. He was acting under orders from higher up. There was aspecial officer on hand to see that the orders were obeyed. Law saysthat explosives shall not be conveyed on a mixed train. "

"I know all about that law, " retorted Latisan. "But it has been eased upon in these parts because you pull a passenger coach on every train. "

"But law is law; it has been jammed down on us!"

"You mean that Craig has put the twist ring into your snout, " shoutedthe drive master. "And he's leading your railroad by the nose like he'sleading a good many others in the Noda country. "

"I'm only a hired man----"

"And the Three C's will have everybody in this section hired if themoney holds out, and that's the hell of it!"

"Look here, Latisan, you're on railroad property, and that's no kind oftalk to have over in front of passengers. "

The train was at a standstill; the new arrivals were on the platform. 

Latisan, well advertised by the name the conductor had bawled, glancedaround and perceived that he was the center of observation. Especiallywas he concerned with the direct stare of a young woman; she continuedto regard him steadfastly and he allowed his attention to be engagedwith her for a moment. 

Latisan had his own mental tags for womankind; this was "a lady. " He hadset himself back to the plane of the woods and his rough associates. Hefelt a woodsman's naïve embarrassment in the presence of a lady. Hersurvey of him was rebuke for his language, he was sure. There could beno other reason why "a lady" should look at a man who was fresh downfrom the drive, unshaven and roughly garbed. She was from town, he couldsee that. Those sparkling eyes seemed like something that was aimed athim; he was in a helpless, hands-up sort of mood!

He pulled off his cap. He had the courageous frankness of sinceremanhood, at any rate. "I'm sorry! I was expecting dynamite. It didn'tcome. I blew up just the same. "

The lady smiled. 

Then she turned and started away. 

A stout man had been standing close behind her. Nobody among theloungers at the railroad station entertained any doubt whatever as tojust what this stranger was. His clothes, his sample case, his oglingeyes, his hat cockily perched on one side of his head proclaimed him "afresh drummer, " according to Adonia estimates. 

He leaped forward and caught step with the girl. "Pardon! But I'm goingyour way! Allow me!" He set his hand on her traveling case. 

She halted and frowned. "I thank you. I can carry it myself!"

"But I heard you asking the conductor the way to the hotel. I'm goingright there!"

"So am I, sir! But not in your company. "

"Oh, come on and be sociable! We're the only two of our kind up amongthese bushwhackers. "

Miss Elsham's fellow operative was stressing his play; he grabbed awayher bag. "We may as well get a quick rise out of him, " mutteredCrowley. It was a plan they had devised in case their man should helptheir luck by being at the railroad station. 

"I'll call an officer!" she threatened. 

"You don't need to, " Latisan informed her. He had followed the couple. "Besides, there isn't any. The only place they need officers is in acity where a rab like this is let run loose. " He leaped to the stoutchap and yanked away the girl's bag. "I'll carry it if you're going tothe tavern. "

She accepted his proffer with another smile--a smile into which she puta touch of understanding comradeship. They walked along together. 

There was no conversation. The spring flood of the Noda tumbled past thevillage in a series of falls, and the earth was jarred, and there was aneverlasting grumble in the air. The loungers stared with great interestwhen the drive master and the girl went picking their way along themuddy road. 

The volunteer squire delivered the traveling bag into the hand of MartinBrophy, who was on the porch of the tavern, his eye cocked to see whatguests the train had delivered into his net. Mr. Brophy handled the baggingerly and was greatly flustered when the self-possessed young ladydemanded a room with a bath. 

Latisan did not wait to listen to Brophy's apologies in behalf of histavern's facilities. He touched his cap to the discomposing stranger andmarched up to the big house on the ledges; he was not approaching withalacrity what was ahead of him. 

He had arrived in Adonia from headwaters the previous evening, and hadspent as much of that evening as his endurance would allow, listening toEchford Flagg, sitting in his big chair and cursing the fetters of fateand paralysis. Unable to use his limbs, he exercised his tongue all themore. 

That forenoon and again in the afternoon Latisan had gone to the bighouse and had submitted himself to unreasonable complaints when hereported on what was going forward at headwaters. He had ventured toexpostulate when the master told him how the thing ought to be done. 

"No two drive bosses operate the same, sir. And the whole situation isdifferent this season. "

"It was your offer to be my right hand, young Latisan--and I'm driveboss still! You move as I order and command. "

Ward was wondering how long the Latisan temperament could be restrained. In the matter of Craig at the tavern the scion of old John had beenafforded disquieting evidence that the temperament was not to be trustedtoo far. 

He entered the mansion without knocking; it was the custom. 

Flagg was reading aloud from a big Bible for which Rickety Dick hadrigged props on the arm of the chair. Dick was sitting on a low stool, the sole auditor of the master's declamation. The old servitor waspeeling onions from a dish between his knees; therefore, his tears ofthe moment were of questionable nature. 

The caller stood for a time outside the open door of the room, averse totempting the hazard of Flagg's temper by an interruption of what seemedto be absorbing all the attention of the old man. 

"'My flesh and my skin hath he made old; he hath broken my bones. Hehath builded against me, and compassed me with gall and travail. He hathset me in dark places as they that be dead of old. He hath hedged meabout, that I cannot get out: he hath made my chain heavy. '"

Flagg halted and looked up from the page. "Lamentations--lamentations, Dick! The best of 'em have whined when the smash came. It's human natureto let out a holler. Jeremiah did it. I'm in good company; it ain'tcrying baby; it's putting up a real man holler. It's----"

Latisan stepped through the doorway. 

Flagg instantly grabbed at a wooden spill that made a marker in thevolume and nipped back the pages. He shook aloft his clinched left hand. He raised his voice and boomed. "'And if any mischief follow, then thoushalt give life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe forstripe. '"

Flagg beat his knotted fist on the open page. "Do you hear that, Latisan? That's for you. I hunted it up. I haven't had time till now toread the Bible like I should. Plenty of good stuff in it--but in the OldTestament, mind you! Too much turn-your-cheek stuff in the NewTestament. 'Eye for an eye. ' Do you know who said that?"

"No, sir. I'm sorry to admit it, but----"

"God Almighty said it. Said it to Moses on the mount. Firststraight-arm orders from God to man. It ought to be good enough for youand me, hadn't it? Take it for rule o' conduct, and if Rufe Craig saysanything to you on the drive refer him here--to headquarters!" Again hebeat his fist on the page. 

"I don't know what part of the Bible Craig ought to study, sir, but someof it ought to be good for him. I'm just from the train. They wouldn'tload our dynamite at the junction. Craig is behind that!"

"Wouldn't haul our dynamite?" raged Flagg. "And he has been shipping hiscanned thunder through here for Skulltree by the carload! Latisan, you're falling down on the job. When I, myself, was attending to it, mydynamite was loaded for Adonia all right enough!"

The drive master did not reply to that amazing shifting of blame to him. 

"Did you say what ought to be said to that conductor?"

"When I started to say something he bawled me out for using that kind oflanguage on railroad property. "

Flagg lifted the useless right hand with his left, let it fall again, and groaned. "How many times, and where, did you hit him? And then whatdid you say?"

"I did not hit him, sir. I said nothing more. And there was a ladypresent. "

Flagg choked and struggled with words before he could speak. "Do youmean to tell me you're allowing any ladee"--he put exquisite inflectionof sarcasm on the word--"to stand betwixt you and your duty, when thatduty is plain? Latisan, they tell me that you're a sapgag where womenare concerned. I'm told that you have been down to the city and----"

"Mr. Flagg, we'll stick to the subject of the dynamite!" broke in theyoung man, sharply. 

"Women are the same thing and belong in the talk. "

"Then we'll stick to the dynamite that comes in boxes. " Latisan was justas peremptory as the master and was hurrying his business; he felt thedog of the Latisan temperament slipping neck from the leash. "You mayhave been able to make 'em haul dynamite for you, in spite of the law. Ican't make 'em, it seems. I'm here merely to report, and to say thatI'll have the dynamite up from the junction just the same. " He startedfor the door. 

"By tote team--three times the cost! My Gawd! why ain't I out andaround?" lamented the Adonia Jeremiah. 

Latisan wanted to say that he would pay the extra cost of transportationout of his own pocket, if that would save argument, but he did not dareto trust himself. He hurried out of the big house and slammed the door. 

On his way down the hill he was obliged to marshal a small host ofreasons for hanging on to his job; the desire to quit then and there waslooming large, potent, imperative. 

He was still scowling when he tramped into the office of the tavernwhere many loafers were assembled. Through the haze of tobacco smoke hesaw Martin Brophy beckoning, and went to the desk. Brophy ran hissmutted finger along under a name; "Mrs. Dana Haines Everett, New YorkCity. "

"She has been asking for you. Matter o' business, she says. I've had togive her the front parlor for her room. Say, she's the kind that getswhat she goes after, I reckon. Is eating her supper served in thereprivate. Never was done in my tavern before. "

"Business--with me?" demanded Latisan. "Brophy, what's her own businessin these parts?"

"Can't seem to find out, " admitted the landlord, and the young manbestowed on Brophy an expansive grin which was a comment on the latter'swell-known penchant for gimleting in search of information. "Will say, however, that she's a widder--grass if I ain't much mistook--believesthat a woman is equal to a man and should have all a man's privilegesabout going around by her lonesome if she so feels. "

"Well, you seem to have extracted a fair amount of information, considering that she's hardly got her feet planted. "

"Oh, " confessed Brophy, "it came out because I made her mad when Ihinted that it was kind of queer for a woman to be traveling aroundalone up here. Well, now that they're voting, you can look for 'mostanything. What shall I tell her from you when I take in her pie?"

"I'll wait on the lady after I eat my supper. "

When the drive master was ushered into the parlor-presence by thelandlord, the lady was sitting in front of an open Franklin stove, smoking a cigarette. She had made a change in attire since her arrival, the new garb suggesting that she proposed to suit herself to the natureof the region to which she had come. She was in knickerbocker costume, had tipped back her chair, one foot on the hearth and the other footpropped on her knee, and she asked Latisan to sit down, pointing to achair beside her. She offered a cigarette with a real masculineoffhandedness. The caller faltered something about a pipe. She insistedthat he smoke his pipe. "It rather puts strangers at their ease, don'tyou think, a little tobacco haze in the room?"

Latisan, packing the bowl of his briar, agreed. 

"I take it that you're well acquainted with this region?"

"Fairly so, though I know the Tomah country better. "

"You're a guide, I understand. "

"I don't understand where you got that information, madam, " replied thedrive master, a bit pricked. 

"I don't remember that anybody did tell me that in so many words. Somehow it was my impression. But no matter. Please listen a moment. "She smiled on him, checking his attempt at a statement regardinghimself; she had conned her little speech and used her best vocabularyto impress this woodsman. "No doubt you have something very important inthe way of occupation. A man of your bearing is bound to. You needn'tthank me for a compliment--I'm very frank. That's the way to get on andaccomplish things quickly. So I'm frank enough to say it's my habit tomeet men on the plane of man to man. Please do not regard me as awoman--that sort of stuff is old-fashioned in these days. I vote and paytaxes. Yet if I were merely a woman you gave evidence on the stationplatform to-day that you know how to protect one from insults. I wasattracted by that trait in you--and afterwards minded your own businessquite after my heart. I need outdoor life. I'm up here early for thefirst fishing. I want to tour the woods. I may invest in timberlands. Putting out of your mind all this foolish sex matter--as I haveexplained my man-to-man theory--will you go with me? I'll have a cook, of course. Pardon my sudden reference to pay--I'll pay you twice whatyou're getting now--providing you're working for wages. "

"I am working for wages. And I can't leave the work. "

"What is it?"

"I'm the master of the Flagg drive on these waters. "

"And you prefer to boss rough men and endure hardship rather than tocome with me?"

The bitterness of the last interview with Flagg was still with Latisan. "If it was a matter of preference--but that isn't the way of it!" Hereturned her gaze and flushed. In spite of his resolve to go on with thebattle that was ahead, he was tempted, and acknowledged to himself thefact; but Flagg was trying him cruelly. 

"You have been the drive master here for a long time--that's why youcannot be spared?" She tossed away her cigarette and gave him earnestattention. 

"I'm just beginning my work with Flagg. "

"Then of course you're not vital. Let the man who used to be master----"

"That was Flagg, himself. He's laid up with paralysis. "

"Oh!" she drawled, provokingly. "A matter of conscientiousness--loyaldevotion--champion of the weak--or a young man's opportunity to be lordof all for the future!"

"He's an old devil to work for, and the job promises no future, " blurtedLatisan, his manner leaving no doubt as to his feelings. 

"Then come with me, " she invited. "If I get to own timberlands, whoknows?"

He shook his head. "There are reasons why I can't quit--not thisseason. "

"I hoped I'd seem to you like a good and sufficient reason, " shereturned, insinuatingly; in her anxiety to make a quick job of it, inher cynical estimate of men as she had been finding them out in thecity, she was venturing to employ her usual methods as a temptress, naturally falling into the habit of past procedure. 

She found it difficult to interpret the sudden look he gave her, but herperspicacity warned her that she was on the wrong tack with this man ofthe north country. 

"I'm afraid you're finding me a peculiar person, Mr. Latisan, " shehastened to say. "I am. I'm quick to judge and quick to decide. Yourgallantry at the railroad station influenced me in your behalf. I likeyour manners. And I know now what's in your mind! You think it will bevery easy for me to find somebody else as a guide--and you're quite surethat you can't give up your responsibility for a woman's whim. "

The drive master owned to himself that she had called the turn. 

"I'll continue with my frankness, Mr. Latisan. It's rather more than aguide I'm looking for on that man-to-man plane I have mentioned. You canreadily understand. I need good advice about land. Therefore, mine isnot exactly a whim, any more than your present determination to go onwith your job is a whim. This matter has come to us very suddenly. Suppose we think it over. We'll have another talk. At any rate, you canadvise me in regard to other men. "

She rose and extended her hand. "We can be very good friends, I trust. "

He took her hand in a warm clasp. "I'll do what I can--be sure of that. "

"I feel very much alone all of a sudden. I'm depending on you. You'renot going back to the drive right away, are you?" she asked, anxiously. 

"I'll be held here for a day or so. " The matter of the dynamite was onhis mind. 

"Good!" she said, and patted his arm when he turned to leave the room. 

CHAPTER TWELVE

Latisan took the forenoon train down from Adonia to the junction thenext day. He was keeping his own counsel about his intent. 

He had done some busy thinking during the evening after he left the newstar boarder in her parlor. In spite of his efforts to confine hisattention, in his thoughts, to business, he could not keep his mindwholly off her attractive personality and her peculiar proposition. Hewas obliged to whip up his wrath in order to get solidly down to theFlagg affairs. 

By the time he went to sleep he knew that he was determinedly ugly. There was the slur of Flagg about his slack efficiency in meeting theschemes of Craig. There was the ireful consciousness that thenarrow-gauge folks were giving him a raw deal on that dynamite matter. They had hauled plenty of explosive for the Comas--for Craig. To admitat the outset of his career on the Noda that he could not get what theThree C's folks were getting--to advertise his impotency by making atwenty-mile tote trip over slushy and rutted roads--was a mighty poorsend-off as a boss, he told himself. He knew what sort of tattle wouldpursue him. 

The stout young man--that "drummer"--was at the station. Latisan wasuncomfortably conscious that this person had been displaying more orless interest in him. In the dining room at breakfast, in the officeamong the loafers, and now at the railroad station the stranger kept hiseyes on Latisan. 

The drive master was just as ugly as he had been when he went to sleep. He was keeping his temper on a wire edge for the purposes of the job ofthat day, as he had planned the affair. He did not go up to theimpertinent drummer and cuff his ears, but the stranger did not know hownarrowly he escaped that visitation of resentment. 

The fellow remained on the platform when the train pulled out; itoccurred to Latisan that the fresh individual maybe wished to make sureof a clear field in order to pursue his crude tactics with the lady ofthe parlor. 

After the arrival at the junction Latisan had matters which gave him notime to ponder on the possible plight of the lady. 

As he had ascertained by cautious inquiry, the crew of the narrow-gaugetrain left it on its spur track unattended while they ate at a boardinghouse. There were workmen in the yard of a lumber mill near the station, loafing after they had eaten their lunches from their pails. The Flaggdynamite was in a side-tracked freight car of the standard gauge. Latisan promptly learned that the lumber-yard chaps were ready andwilling to earn a bit of change during their nooning. He grabbed in withthem; the boxes of dynamite were soon transferred to the freight car ofthe narrow-gauge and stacked in one end of the car. Latisan paid off hiscrew and posted himself on top of the dynamite. In one hand he held acoupling pin; prominently displayed in the other hand was a fuse. 

"I'm in here--the dynamite is here, " he informed the conductor when thatofficial appeared at the door of the car, red-faced after hearing thenews of the transfer. "I'm only demanding the same deal you have giventhe Three C's. You know you're wrong. Damn the law! I'm riding to Adoniawith this freight. What's that? Go ahead and bring on your train crew. "He brandished coupling pin and fuse. "If you push me too far you'll havea week's job picking up the splinters of this train. "

Bravado was not doing all the work for Latisan in that emergency. Theconductor's conscience was not entirely easy; he had made an exceptionin the case of the Three C's--and Craig, attending to the matter beforehe went to New York, had borne down hard on the need of soft-pedaltactics. The conductor was not prepared to risk things with cannedthunder in boxes and an explosive young man whose possession just thenwas nine points and a considerable fraction. 

Latisan was left to himself. 

At last the train from downcountry rumbled in, halted briefly, and wenton its way. From his place in the end of the freight car Latisan couldcommand only a narrow slice of outdoors through the open side door. Persons paraded past on their way to the coach of the narrow-gauge. Hecould see their backs only. There had been a thrill for him in the jobhe had just performed; he promptly got a new and more lively thrill eventhough he ridiculed his sensations a moment later. Among the heads ofthe arrivals he got a glimpse of an object for which he had stretchedhis neck and strained his eyes--the anxious soul of him in his eyes--onthe street in New York City. He saw a green toque with a white quill. 

As though a girl--such a girl as he judged her to be--would still bewearing the same hat, all those months later! But that hat and the verycock of the angle of the quill formed, in a way, the one especiallyvivid memory of his life. However, he had a vague, bachelor notion thatwomen's hats resembled their whims--often changed and never twice alike, and he based no hopes on what he had seen. 

Whoever she was, she was on the train. But there were stations betweenthe junction and Adonia--not villages, but the mouths of roads which ledfar into remote regions where a green toque could not be traced readily. He acutely desired to inform himself regarding the face under that hat. But he had made possession the full ten points of his law, sitting onthat load of dynamite. What if he should allow that train crew anopening and give Echford Flagg complete confirmation of the report thathis drive master was a sapgag with women?

After the intenseness of the thrill died out of him he smiled at theidea that a chance meeting in New York could be followed up in thisfashion in the north country. At any rate, he had something with whichto busy his thoughts during the slow drag of the train up to Adonia, andhe was able to forget in some measure that he was sitting on dynamiteand would face even more menacing explosives of another kind when thedrive was on its way. 

He posted himself in the side door of the car when the train rolledalong beside the platform at Adonia. He had ordered men of the Flaggoutfit to be at the station with sleds, waiting for the train; they wereon hand, and he shouted to them, commanding them to load the boxes andstart north. 

There was a man displaying a badge on the platform--a deputy sheriff whohad his eye out for bootleggers headed toward the driving crews; theconductor ran to the officer and reported that Latisan had broken thelaw relating to the transportation of explosives; the trainman proposedto shift the responsibility, anticipating that the sheriff might giveofficial attention to the cargo. 

Just then Latisan spied the green toque; the face was concealed becausethe head was bowed to enable the toque's wearer to pick her way down thesteps of the coach. 

The drive master leaped from the door of the car and his men scrambledpast him to enter. 

"About that dynamite----"

Latisan elbowed aside the questioning sheriff, and looked straight pastthe officer. "If you go after me on that point you'll have to go afterCraig and the Three C's, too--and I'll put the thing up to the countyattorney myself. Right now I'm busy. "

The men were lugging out the boxes. "If anybody gets in your way, boys, drop a box on his toes, " he shouted, starting up the platform. 

"Leave it to us, Mr. Latisan, " bawled one of the crew. 

The drive master had his eyes on the girl who was walking ahead of him. He could hardly believe that the voicing of his name attracted herattention. She did not know his name! But she stopped and whirled aboutand stared at him. 

It was surely the girl of the cafeteria!

She plainly shared Latisan's amazement, but there was in her demeanorsomething more than the frank astonishment which was actuating him. 

He pulled off his cap and hurried to her and put out his hand. "I sawyou--I mean I saw your hat. I thought it might be you--but I looked foryou in New York--for that hat----" He knew he was making a fool ofhimself by his excitement and incoherence. "I have been thinking aboutyou----" He was able to check himself, for her eyes were showingsurprise of another sort. Her manner suggested to Latisan that she, atany rate, had not been thinking especially about him during the months. She had recovered her composure. 

"It is not surprising about the hat, Mr. --I believe I heard somebodycall your name--Mr. Latisan?" There was an inflection of polite query, and he bowed. "My sarcastic friends are very explicit about this hatserving as my identifier. "

"I didn't mean it that way. I don't know anything about girls' hats. Butto see you away up here----"

She forced a flicker of a smile. 

"It seems quite natural to find you here in the woods, though I believeyou did tell me that your home is over Tomah way. "

He was not able to understand the strange expression on her countenance. And she, on her part, was not able to look at him with completecomposure; she remembered the character given to this man by Craig, andshe had ventured to give him something else in her report--the swaggerof a _roué_ and a black mustache!

There was an awkward moment and he put his cap back on his head. Helooked about as if wondering if she expected friends. He had treasuredevery word of hers in the cafeteria. She had spoken of the woods as ifher home had been there at one time. 

"I'm not expecting anybody to meet me--here--to-day, " she informed him, understanding his side glances. She was showing incertitude, uneasiness--as if she were slipping back into a former mood after theprick of her surprise. "There's a hotel here, I suppose. "

He took her traveling case from her hand, muttering a proffer to assisther. They walked away together. For the second time the loafers atAdonia saw Latisan escorting a strange woman along the street, and thisone, also, was patently from the city, in spite of her modest attire. 

"Seems to be doing quite a wholesale business, importing dynamite andwimmen, " observed a cynic. 

"According to the stories in Tomah, he has put in quite a lot of timelooking over the market in regard to that last-named, " agreed anotherdetractor. 

"And when Eck Flagg gets the news I'd rather take my chances with thedynamite than with the wimmen, " stated the cynic. 

"I guess I talked to you like an idiot at first, " said Latisan, when heand his companion were apart from the persons on the station platform. "I'm getting control of my surprise. I remember you told me you werehomesick for the woods. That's why you're up here, I suppose. "

"It's one reason, Mr. Latisan. "

"I'm sorry it isn't a better time of year. I'd like to--to--If youaren't going to be tied up too much with friends, I could show youaround a little. But right now I'm tied up, myself. I'm drive master forEchford Flagg--you remember about speaking of him. "

"Yes; but I shall not trouble Mr. Flagg, " she hastened to say. "He willnot be interested in me simply on account of my friends. You are verybusy on the drive, are you?" she questioned, earnestly. 

"Oh yes. I've got to start for headwaters in the morning. " There wasdoleful regret in his tones. 

He was rather surprised to find so much pleased animation in her face;truly, this girl from the city acted as if she were delighted by thenews of his going away; she even seemed to be confessing it. "I'm glad!"she cried. Then she smoothed matters after a glance at his grieved andpuzzled face. "I'm glad to hear a man say that he's devoted to his work. So many these days don't seem to take any interest in what they'redoing--they only talk wages. Yours must be a wonderful work--on theriver--the excitement and all!"

"Yes, " he admitted, without enthusiasm. 

The street was muddy and they went slowly; he hung back as if he wantedto drag out the moments of their new companionship. 

He cast about for a topic; he did not feel like expatiating on theprospects ahead of him in his work. "If you're going to make much of astop here----"

She did not take advantage of his pause; he hoped she would indicate theproposed length of her stay, and he was worrying himself into a panicfor fear she would not be in Adonia on his next visit to report toFlagg. 

"I wish we had a better hotel here, so that you'd stay all contented fora time--and--and enjoy the country hereabouts. "

"Isn't the hotel a fit place for a woman who is unaccompanied?"

"Oh, that isn't it! It's the slack way Brophy runs it. The helpquestion! Martin does the best he knows how, but he finds it hard tokeep table girls here in the woods. Has to keep falling back on hisnephew, and the nephew isn't interested in the waiter job. Wants tofollow his regular line. "

"And what's that?" she asked, holding to a safe topic. 

"Running Dave's stable. Nephew says the horses can't talk back. "

She stopped and faced him. "Do you think the landlord would hire me as awaitress?" She had come to Adonia in haste, leaving her plans to hazard. Now she was obeying sudden inspiration. 

If she had slapped him across the face she could not have provoked moreastonishment and dismay than his countenance showed. 

"I have done much waiting at tables. " She grimly reflected on the caféswhere she had sought the most for her money. "I'm not ashamed to confessit. "

He stammered before he was able to control his voice. "It isn't that. You ought to be proud to work. I mean I'm glad--no, what I mean is Idon't understand why--why----"

"Why I have come away up here for such a job?"

"I haven't the grit to ask any questions of you!" he confessed, plaintively, his memory poignant on that point. 

The stout "drummer" had been trailing them from the station. When theyhalted he passed them slowly, staring wide-eyed at the girl, asking heramazed questions with his gaze. She flung the Vose-Mern operative a lookof real fury; she had come north in a fighting mood. 

"I have left the city to escape just such men as that--men who aren'twilling to let a girl have a square chance. I lost my last positionbecause I slapped a cheap insulter's face in a hotel dining hall. " Shelooked over Latisan's head when she twisted the truth. "I came north, tothe woods, just as far as that railroad would take me. I hate a city!"Then she looked straight at him, and there was a ring of sincerity inher tone. "I'm glad to be where those are!" She pointed to the treeswhich thatched the slopes of the hills. 

"You're speaking of friends of mine!"

They had stopped, facing each other. Crowley, lashed by looks from thegirl and Latisan, had hurried on toward the tavern. 

Lida knew that the drive master was having hard work to digest theinformation she had given him. 

"They are standing up straight and are honest old chaps, " he went on. Hewas looking into her eyes and his calm voice had a musing tone. "I liketo call them my friends. "

He was trying hard to down the queer notions that were popping up. Hewould not admit that he was suspecting this girl of deceit. But she wasso manifestly not what she claimed that she was! Still, there werereverses that might----

"I am alone in a strange land--nobody to back my word about myself. Imust call on a reliable witness. You know the witness. " She put up herhand and touched her hat. Then came laughter--first from her and thenfrom Latisan--to relieve the situation. "You saw me wearing it more thansix months ago. What better proof of my humble position in life do youwant?"

"I don't dare to tell you what you ought to be, Miss----"

"Patsy Jones, " she returned, glibly; his quest for her name could not bedisregarded. 

"But what you are right now is good enough because it's honest work. "

"Do you think I can get the job?"

"I am a witness of Martin Brophy's standing offer to give one thousanddollars for a table girl who won't get homesick or get married. "

"Take me in and collect the reward, Mr. Latisan. I'm a safeproposition, both ways. "

"I hope not!" he blurted--and then marched on with the red floodingbeneath his tan. 

And though he strove to put all his belief in her word about herself, hewas conscious of a persistent doubt, and was angered by it. 

"If you please, I'll do the talking to Mr. Brophy--is that hisname?--when we reach the hotel, " said the girl. "You really do not knowme. " There was a flash of honesty, she felt, in that statement, and shewanted to be as honest as she could--not wholly a compound of lies inher new rôle. "It might seem queer, my presenting myself under yourindorsement, as if we had been acquainted somewhere else. Gossip up hereis easily started, isn't it?"

"It is. "

He surrendered her bag to her at the porch, as if his services had beenmerely the cursory politeness of one who was traveling her way. It wasin Latisan's mind to go along to the big house on the ledges and informFlagg what had been done that day, and glory in the boast that there wasa new man in the region who could make a way for himself in spite ofFlagg's opinions as to the prowess of an old man. 

Latisan was feeling strangely exhilarated. She had come there to stay!Martin Brophy was in the desperate state of need to chain a girl likethat one to a table leg in his desire to keep her. And she had announcedher own feelings in the matter! She was in the Noda--the girl who hadstepped out of his life never to enter it again, so he had feared inhis lonely ponderings. He was in the mood of a real man at last! He wasresolved to take no more of Echford Flagg's contumely. He was heartsickat the thought of starting north and leaving her in the tavern, to bethe object of attentions such as that cheap drummer man bestowed when hepassed them on the street. 

The plea of the lady of the tavern parlor had made merely a ripple inhis resolves. He had not thought of her or her proposition during thatbusy day. 

Now he was wondering whether the fight for Flagg--the struggle againstCraig, even for vengeance, was worth while. 

Lida was having no difficulty in locating the landlord. He stood justbeyond the dining-room door and was proclaiming that he was the boss andwas shaking his fist under the nose of a surly youth who had allowedseveral dishes to slide off a tray and smash on the floor. 

"Do you want to hire a waitress from the city?" she demanded. 

"You bet a tin dipper I do, " snapped back Brophy. 

"I'm ready to begin work at once. If you'll show me my room----"

"You go up one flight, by them stairs there, and you pick out the bestroom you can find--the one that suits you! That's how much I'm willingto cater to a city waitress. And you needn't worry about wages. "

"I shall not worry, sir. " She hurried up the stairs. 

The hostler-waiter slammed down the tray with an ejaculation ofthankfulness. Brophy picked up the tray and banged it over the youth'shead. "You ain't done with the hash-wrassling till she has got her feetplaced. Sweep up that litter, stand by to do the heavy lugging, and takeyour orders from her and cater to her--cater!"

Latisan, lingering on the porch, had hearkened and observed. He caught aglimpse of himself in the dingy glass of the door. He scrubbed his handdoubtfully over his beard. Then he turned and hurried away. 

The single barber shop of Adonia was only a few yards from the door ofthe tavern. There was one chair in the corner of a pool room. 

Latisan overtook a man in the doorway and yanked him back and enteredahead. 

"I'm next!" shouted the supplanted individual. 

"Yes, after me!" declared Latisan, grimly. He threw himself into thechair. "Shave and trim! Quick!"

The barber propped his hands on his hips. "What's the newfangled idea ofshedding whiskers before the drive is down?"

"Shave!" roared Latisan. "And if you're more than five minutes on thejob I'll carve my initials in you with your razor. "

So constantly did he apostrophize the barber to hurry, wagging arestless jaw, that blood oozed from several nicks when the beard hadbeen removed. 

"I've got a pride in my profession, just the same as you have in yourjob, " stormed the barber when Latisan refused to wait for treatment forthe cuts. "And I don't propose to have you racing out onto thestreets----"

But the drive master was away, obsessed by visions of that freshdrummer presuming further in his tactics with the new waitress. Thebarber, stung to defense of his art, grabbed a towel and a piece of alumand pursued Latisan along the highway and into the tavern office, cornered the raging drive master, and insisted on removing the evidenceswhich publicly discredited good workmanship. The affair was in thenature of a small riot. 

The guests who were at table in the dining room stared through thedoorway with interest. The new waitress, already on her job, gave theaffair her amused attention. Especially absorbed was the sullen youthwho halted in the middle of the room, holding a loaded tray above hishead. In his abstraction he allowed the tray to tip, and the dishesrained down over Crowley, who was seated directly under the edge of thetray. 

Latisan strode in and took his seat at the small table with the citystranger while Brophy was mopping the guest off; the city chap hadreceived his food on his head and in his lap. 

The waitress came and stood demurely at one side, meeting the flaminggaze of the Vose-Mern man with a look that eloquently expressed heremotions. "Shall I repeat the order?"

"Don't be fresh!" snarled Crowley. 

Latisan rapped his knuckles on the table warningly. "Be careful how youtalk to this lady!"

"What have you got to say about it?" The stout chap started to rise. 

But Latisan was up first. He leaned over and set his big hand, fingersoutspread like stiff prongs, upon the man's head, and twisted the caputto and fro; then he drove the operative down with a thump in his chair. "This is what I've got to say! Remember that she is a lady, and treather accordingly, or I'll twist off your head and take it downstreet andsell it to the bowling-alley man. "

It was plain that the girl was finding a piquant relish in the affair. 

From the moment when she came down the stairs and took the white apronwhich Brophy handed to her she had ceased to be the city-wearied girl. It was homely adventure, to be sure, but the very plainness of it, inthe free-and-easy environment of the north woods, appealed to her senseof novelty. There was especial zest for her in this bullyragging ofCrowley by the man who was to be victim of the machinations by theVose-Mern agency. Her eyes revealed her thoughts. The city man openedhis mouth. He promptly shut it and turned sideways in his chair, hisback to Latisan. Detective Crowley was enmeshed in a mystery which hecould not solve just then. What was the confidential secretary doing upthere?

The girl smiled down on her champion--an expansive, charming, warmingsmile. "I thank you! What will you have?"

She surveyed his face with concern; his countenance was working withemotion. In her new interest, she noted more particularly than in theNew York cafeteria, that he apparently was, in spite of what Craig hadsaid, a big, wholesome, naïve chap who confessed to her by his eyes, then and there, that he was honestly and respectfully surrendering hisheart to her, short though the acquaintance had been, and she wasthrilled by that knowledge. She was not responding to this new appeal, she was sure, but she was gratified because the man was showing her byhis eyes that he was her slave, not merely a presumptuous conquest ofthe moment, after the precipitate manner of more sophisticated males. 

She repeated her question. 

It was evident enough what Latisan wanted at that moment, but he had notthe courage to voice his wishes in regard to her; he had not enoughself-possession left to state his actual desires as to food, even. Therewas one staple dish of the drive; he was heartily sick of that food, buthe could not think of anything else right then. 

"Bub--bub--beans!" he stuttered. 

She hurried away. 

When she returned with her tray she did not interrupt any conversationbetween the two men at the little table; the Vose-Mern man still had hisback turned on Latisan; the drive master sat bolt upright in a primattitude which suggested a sort of juvenile desire to mind his manners. 

The girl's eyes were still alight with the spirit of jest. She placedsteak and potatoes and other edibles in front of Latisan. She gave thegentleman from the agency a big bowl of beans. 

"I didn't order those!"

"I'm sorry, sir. I must have got my orders mixed. "

"You have! You've given that"--he stopped short of applying any epithetto Latisan--"you've given him my order!"

"Won't you try our beans--just once? The cook tells me they were bakedin the ground, woodman style. "

"Then give 'em to the woodsmen--it's the kind of fodder that's fit for'em. "

Latisan leaned across the table and tugged Crowley's sleeve. "Look me inthe eye, my friend!" The man who was exhorted found the narrowed, hardeyes very effective in a monitory way. "I don't care what you eat, as ageneral thing. But you have just slurred woodsmen and have stuck up yournose at the main grub stand-by of the drive. You're going to eat thosebeans this lady has very kindly brought. If you don't eat 'em, startingin mighty sudden, I'll pick up that bowl and tip it over and crown youwith it, beans and all. Because I'm speaking low isn't any sign I don'tmean what I say!"

The beans were steaming under the stout man's nose. He decided that theheat would be better in his stomach than on the top of his head; he hadjust had one meal served that way. He devoured the beans and marched outof the dining room, his way taking him past the sideboard where the newwaitress was skillfully arranging glasses after methods entirelydifferent from those of the sullen youth. 

"Don't jazz the game any more--not with _me_, " growled Crowley, fury inhis manner. "And I want to see you in private. "

She stiffened, facing him. She knew that Latisan's earnest eyes were onher. She assumed the demeanor of a girl who was resentfully able to takecare of herself, playing a part for the benefit of the drive master. "Attend strictly to your end of the program, Crowley!"

"What do you mean--my end?"

"Protecting me from insults by these rough woodsmen. I suppose you aredoing the same for Miss Elsham. " Her irony was biting. He scowled andput his face close to hers. 

"If you're up here on the job--it's not a lark. It's a case of he-men inthese parts. If you're not careful you'll start something you can'tstop. "

"Keep away from me. They're watching us. You're bungling your partwretchedly. Can't you understand that I'm on the case, too?"

She had planned her action, forestalling possibilities as well as shewas able. She was determined to be bold, trusting to events as theydeveloped. 

"You will kindly remember that I'm on this case along with you, and youcan't make me jump through hoops!" Crowley, fresh from the city, narrowin his urban conceit, was seeing red because of a petty humiliation hehad suffered in public. 

Another man was seeing red for a different reason. Latisan strode acrossthe room, nabbed Crowley by the ear, and led him into the tavern office, where the aching ear was twisted until the city man subsided into achair. 

The girl appraised at its full value the rancor that was developing inthe Vose-Mern operative; his glaring eyes were accusing her. 

But the adoring eyes of Latisan promised really more complicatedtrouble for her. 

It was borne in on her that there were dangerous possibilities in thefrank atmosphere of the north woods. Lida had the poignant feeling ofbeing very much alone just then--and she was afraid!

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Suppers were always over with early in Adonia. The red west was bandedwith half on hour's April daylight when the new waitress finished herwork. She hurried up to her room; she locked her door with thepanic-stricken air of one who desires to shut out danger. 

She was in no mood to question the worthiness of the impulse which hadsent her into the north, but she was realizing in fuller measure thedifficulties with which she must deal. In the dining room she had feltrecklessly intrepid and the utter mystification of Buck Crowley hadamused her. But she had had plenty of opportunity in her Vose-Mern workto know the nature of Crowley--he had the shell of an alligator and thescruples of a viper and would double-cross a twin brother if the projectcould help the fortunes of Buck himself. 

Once more she admitted that she was afraid. It was if she had touchedlevers and had started machinery which she could not stop; she hadlaunched two men at each other and had observed the first ominousclinches--and Crowley had warned her that she was in the region of"he-men. " But Crowley was not of a sort to use the manly weapons of thefrank fighters of the north. 

With the sense of hiding away from impending trouble, sorry for hershare in starting it, she sat by the window, put her forehead on herarms, wept weakly, and told herself that she was a very poor article ofa heroine. 

However, the sunset soothed and invited her when she wiped her eyes. Shebeheld the honest outdoors of the forest country. She was hungry forthose open places of earth. She knew that her resolution was ebbing thelonger she hid herself in that hole of a room, like a terrified animal. She put on a hat and a wrap and started out. 

She was perfectly well aware of the gantlet she must run. 

Crowley was patrolling the porch; she issued from a side door of thetavern, but she was obliged to pass him in order to get into the street. His high sign to her was peremptory and unmistakable--Mr. Crowley hadbusiness with her! Right then, in spite of her planned intent to bluffout the situation just as long as she could at that distance from Mern, she was not in a state of mind to meet Crowley. 

She heard steps behind her and was accosted, but her frown ofapprehensiveness became a smile of welcome when she turned and beheldLatisan; the welcome was not so much from interest in Latisan as fromthe sense that she would have a respite from Crowley. 

"If you're going to look the place over, won't you allow me to goalong?" he pleaded. "I'll follow behind like a terrier, if you tell meto. I want to keep you from being bothered by anybody. "

She showed concern and looked about her. 

"Oh, by that cheap drummer, I mean. You needn't ever be afraid ofwoodsmen up here. I was watching him when you came out. If it wasn't forstarting a lot of tattle I'd beat him up on the street. "

"Really, you'd better come along with me, Mr. Latisan, out of the reachof any such temptation. "

"Perhaps you'd like to get a view of the falls from the best point, " hesuggested, as they walked on. 

When they turned into a path and disappeared from Crowley's ken thelatter buttoned his coat and started leisurely on their trail. 

On the edge of the gorge there was a niche in the cliff, a natural seatpadded with moss. Latisan led her to the spot. He did not indulge hislonging to sit beside her; he stood at a little distance, respectfully, and allowed her to think her thoughts. Those thoughts and her memorieswere very busy just then; she was glad because the everlasting diapasonof the falls made conversation difficult. 

Until then, in her reflections, she had been considering Ward Latisanmerely as her stricken grandfather's staff of hope, an aid so essentialthat the Comas had determined to eliminate him. She surveyed him as hestood there in his own and fitting milieu and found him reassuringlystalwart as a dependable champion. 

Alone with him, making estimate with her eyes and her understanding, shewas conscious that her first surprise at sight of the real Latisan wasgiving way to deepening interest. 

She reflected again on the character which had been given this man byRufus Craig, and remembered more vividly what she had written about himfor the guidance of the Vose-Mern agency. 

There must be something wrong in Craig's estimate! She felt that she hadan eye of her own for qualities in a man, and this man's clean sincerityhad impressed her in their first meeting in the New York cafeteria. 

He turned from his survey of the waters and met her gaze. "I was prettymuch flustered that day in New York, Miss Jones. I was more so to-day atthe railroad station. I don't know how to act with girls very well, " heconfessed naïvely. "I want to say something right here and now. Thereare mean stories going the rounds about me up in this country. I'mafraid you'll hear some of them. I don't want you--I don't wanteverybody to think I'm what they are trying to make out I am--they liedover Tomah way to hurt me in business. But perhaps you don't care oneway or the other, " he probed, wistfully. 

He found encouragement in her expression and went on. "I was away atTech, taking a special course, and they lied about me. I was trying tomake something more of myself than just a lumberjack. And I thoughtthere was a chance for me to help things on the Tomah after I learnedsomething about engineering. I was doing my best, that's all, and theliars saw their opening and took it. If you hear the stories I hope youwon't believe them. "

Hastily she looked away from his earnest and imploring eyes and gave herattention to the turbid freshet flood, shredded into a yellow andyeasty riot of waters. 

Her recollection of childhood became clearer now that she was backbeside the cataract which was linked with all her early memories. He didnot venture to disturb her with more talk. 

She remained there until the chill from the air and the mist from thefalling waters and the growing dusk warned her. 

They were back at the edge of the village street before he spoke again. "The falls are pretty wild now; they're beautiful in the summer when thewater is low. When I was a boy I footed it over here from the Tomah afew times and sat in that niche and listened to the song the watersseemed to sing. It was worth the long hike. Being there just now broughtback something I'd almost forgotten. One day the waters sung me to sleepand when I woke up there was a little girl dancing in front of me andpointing her finger, and I looked at myself and saw she had made a chainof daisies and hung it around my neck and had stuck clover blooms allover me. And when she saw that I was awake she scampered off with someother children. Queer how the funny little thoughts like that pop up ina person's mind!"

Fresh from the scene, softened by her ponderings, Lida felt the surge ofan impulse to tell him that the same memory had come to her while shesat in the niche. She was the child who had made the daisy chain--whohad been bolder than the other children in approaching the sleepingstranger. And she was not ready to agree with him that the memory was"queer. " She wished she could confess her identity to him right then, because the confession would enable her to bring up a topic which hadbeen interesting her very much--how personalities, meeting as strangers, often prompt each other through subtle psychic qualities of pastassociation; there were instances in the books she had read wherepersons claimed to have recognized each other from past incarnations;but Lida did not believe that stuff, she had told herself. As to themutual remembrance of the daisy chain--that was different--it seemedquite natural. She could remember just how comically that boy's nosetwitched when she was waking him up with a buttercup blossom. 

Latisan was conscious of a queer unwillingness to have her leave him. Hewondered what excuse he could offer to prolong the companionship of theevening. He wanted to link up her affairs with his in some way, if hecould--that there might be something in common between them. To solicither aid--her counsel; it is the first hankering of a man in his strivingtoward a woman's favor. 

In this case, the drive master, desperately casting about for an excuse, was guilty of something like an enormity in venturesomeness. His ownbusiness was calling him to the big house on the ledges; in his newstate of softened spirit he was dreading any run-in with Echford Flagg. Perhaps gossip had already carried to Flagg the reason why the drivemaster had not hastened to report about the dynamite victory. To exhibitthe actual reason for the delay, in her own winning person, seemed avery proper thing to do according to Latisan's clouded judgment of themoment. 

"Let me tell you!" he urged. "I've got to run up to Flagg's on business. You'll have something to talk to him about--those friends----"

"No, no!" She hurried on toward the tavern. 

He ventured to clasp her arm, detaining her. "He's a poor, sick old man. A little talk with you will do him good. "

Her memory was vivid. "But you told me in New York that he won't have awoman near his house. "

"He's different nowadays, " persisted Latisan. "He's sick and it will bea treat for him to have a girl say some kind words. I want him to meetyou----"

But she shook off his hand and resolutely kept on her way. "I must goin. I'm tired after my long journey--and my work. " There were loafers infront of the tavern. "I'm very much obliged to you, Mr. Latisan, " shecalled so that all could hear, "for your kindness in showing me the wayto the falls. Good night!" She disappeared. 

There was nothing for Latisan to do but to brave the old tiger of thebig house alone. Outside of his desire to keep her with him as long aspossible, he had wanted her to go along into the presence of Flagg as aguaranty of the peace; he did not believe that Flagg would launchinvective in the hearing of the girl; furthermore, Latisan was consciousof a proud anxiety to exhibit her. 

Flagg tipped the shade of the lamp so that Latisan's face wasilluminated when the drive master was in the room. 

"Shaved!" snorted the tyrant. "All duded up and beauing around a tablegirl. I know all about it. Latisan, you----"

"Just a moment, Mr. Flagg!"

"Shaved, right in the start of the driving season! Shut up! I can seewhat's happening. I heard you had brought the dynamite. But somebodyelse told me. Yes, told me other news! I can't depend on you any longerto bring me reports. But you're planting something worse than dynamiteunder yourself. Parading a girl and keeping me waiting and----"

"Let me warn you, sir. Only my pride in doing a job I have set out to dois keeping me on with you. If you insult that young lady by another wordI'll quit you cold, here and now!"

There was a moment of silence. 

Rickety Dick, sitting on his stool with a cat in his arms, wriggled asuneasily as did the cat, who had been alarmed by the high voices. 

"Talk about dynamite being dangerous!" muttered Flagg. "There'ssomething else----"

But when he looked into Latisan's countenance he lowered the shade ofthe lamp and did not state what the something else was. 

"If you know about the dynamite, sir, there's no need of my sayinganything. It's on its way north. I shall start for headwaters atdaybreak. I'll be down to report as soon as possible. "

"When you get up on the drive, you stay there, Latisan. "

"It's my pledged word that I must report to you in person. You insistedon it. I don't propose to give you any chance for come-backs. I shallreport, Mr. Flagg. "

He walked out. 

Soon he heard the pattering of feet behind him on the ledges and he washailed cautiously by the quavering voice of old Dick. 

"Who is she, Mr. Latisan? Who is that girl?" panted Dick; "I saw herwhen she walked with you. I was side of the road. "

"And ran and tattled to Flagg, eh?"

"No--no, sir! It was old Dempsey who came and gossiped. But what's hername?"

"Patsy Jones. "

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure because she told me so, " retorted the drive master. "Her wordgoes with me. "

"But--but----"

"But what?" Latisan's manner was ominous. 

"Of course she knows who she is, " faltered old Dick. "And my eyesightain't clear--and it was a long time ago--and my memory ain't good, ofcourse, and----"

"And your wits don't seem to be of the best, either, " snapped the youngman. "You and Flagg better keep your tongues off that young lady. Do youunderstand?"

"Yes, Mr. Latisan. Yes, sir!"

Latisan stepped back and took hold of Dick by the sleeve of the raggedjacket. "Who did you think she was?"

"I guess I didn't really think--I only dreamed, " was the old man'sstammering reply. "If you say she's Patsy Jones that's enough for me. "

"She says that she is--and that makes it so. " Latisan strode on his way. 

Rickety Dick lifted his arms, then he lowered them without his "Praisethe Lord!"

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Crowley, shrouded in the evening gloom, tapped on the parlor window thesignal tattoo agreed upon between himself and Miss Elsham. The light inthe parlor went out promptly and she came and replied to Crowley underthe edge of the lifted sash. She had been apprised by her associate ofthe advent of Miss Kennard on the scene; Crowley had hastened to slip anote under her door. 

"You saw 'em start for a walk, did you? Well, you saw me follow 'em, then. Chased 'em to the edge of the falls and hid. "

"What sort of talk is she giving him?"

"Talk! I couldn't hear. I don't like water, anyway. I like it less whenit bangs down over rocks and stops me from hearing what I want to hear. "

"What does she tell you?"

"She has only shot a few words at me like beans out of an air gun. Claims she's here on the case. "

"Do you believe that?"

"I don't dare to tell her that I don't believe it--considering the wayshe stands in with Mern. It may be his afterthought--he's a bird thatflies funny sometimes, you know. "

"Leave her to me; I'll dredge her to-morrow. "

"That'll be good dope; she'll have to bring in your meals as soon as yougive orders to Brophy. "

"They'll have to be snappy orders to make him stop bringing 'emhimself, " said Miss Elsham. "The old fool stood around while I waseating supper and told me how much money he has saved and how lonesomehe is since his wife died. I have told him to send Latisan to me thisevening on a matter of business, no matter how late Latisan comes in. He's too jealous to give the word, I do believe. "

"I can't understand the hang of it--her grabbing him so quick, " lamentedCrowley. "It's a devil of a note when we have to take time off the mainjob to detect out a mystery right in our own concern! What are you goingto say about her when you write up your report to-night?"

He was referring to the inviolable rule of the Vose-Mern office that adaily report must be made by each operative. 

"Nothing, Buck. Let's tread easy. We may seem to be trying to tell Mernhis business. She's here and he must be perfectly well aware that she'shere. Don't you write anything in your report. Leave her to me. "

"All right! You handle it. "

Then Crowley departed and sat down in his room and put into his report afull statement about Miss Kennard's arrival and actions and his ownactivity in regard to her. Crowley had elaborate ideas about the art ofdouble-crossing everybody, even his associates in the agency. He figuredthat it could not hurt anything to give Mern a full report on allmatters; and if there was anything peculiar in Kennard's presence there, Crowley's assiduity would contrast to his credit and shame Elsham'snegligence. He had frequently made good hits by cajoling fellowoperatives to suppress certain matters which he had then reported to hisadvantage with Mern. And Elsham, in this case, was claiming to be incharge, making him only the watchdog of her safety. 

Crowley growled derogatory comments on her temptress qualities when hepeered past the edge of his curtain in the morning and looked down onLatisan mounting into his jumper seat. The young man did not seem to bein an amiable or a confident state of mind, and his plain dolorcomforted Crowley somewhat, even though Latisan was going back to thedrive. 

The drive master had not been able to see Miss Patsy Jones that morning, as he had hoped; he had no excuse to hang around the tavern till she didappear. Brophy served the breakfast; he declared that he was going tohang on to that table girl if good treatment could prevail, and he wasnever going to ask her to wait on early breakfasters. 

Crowley got additional comfort out of Latisan's loud proclamation thathe would be down in Adonia again very soon. The drive master seemed tobe striving to draw somebody's attention to that fact. He cast looksbehind him at the upper windows of the tavern when he drove away. 

That day, according to the plans he had made in New York, Mr. Crowleytook pains to give himself an occupation in Adonia; loafers who were notbashful were quizzing him about the nature of his business up there. 

The barber had one corner of the village pool room; Crowley made atrade to occupy another corner. He opened up a case of cheap jewelry andtraded it by day and raffled it evenings; he was not molested in hissporting propositions, as he called the procedure, after he had arrangeda private talk with the deputy sheriff. Crowley, with his fancywaistcoat and his tip-tilted hat, fitted the rôle he was playing. He wasright in the path of all the gossip that traveled to and fro; therefore, the rôle suited his needs. 

His nightly conferences with Miss Elsham at the parlor window were notpleasant; Miss Elsham was not in a state of mind which conduced tocordial relations. 

She had not been able to "dredge" Miss Kennard. That young lady waitedon Miss Elsham, but not with a tray. After a talk with Brophy, whoagreed with her absolutely and placatingly, begging her to suit herselfin all her acts provided she would stay on, Miss Kennard went into theparlor, closed the door carefully, and told Miss Elsham where that youngwoman got off as an exacting lady of leisure. "Mr. Mern would not allowit--one operative doing menial work for another. If you choose to comeinto the dining room, that's different. "

Miss Kennard then turned and walked out. She refused to stay with MissElsham and have a talk. "We are ordered to be very careful up here, " shereminded the operative. Miss Elsham was impressed. It was as if Mernwere sending new cautions by this latest arrival. 

Miss Kennard, in her dabblings in psychoanalysis, had secured someconcrete aids for action in addition to the vague abstractions which hadcome into her mind when Latisan had so naïvely confessed on the cliffabove the cataract. She understood fully the potency of a suggestionwhich left a lot to the imagination of the other party; only a bit of asuggestion is needed--and it must be left to itself, like yeast, toinduce fermentation. For that reason Miss Kennard abruptly walked outand left Miss Elsham alone to reflect--not running away, but retiringwith the air of one who had said a sufficient number of words to thewise. 

Miss Elsham, in her conference at the window with Crowley that evening, revealed how actively her batch of ponderings had been set to working bythat bit of suggestion. Crowley, listening, wished privately that hecould call back that report to Mern; Mern had repeatedly warned him tokeep to his place as a strong-arm operative, bluntly bearing down on thefact that Crowley's brains were not suited for the finer points ofmachination. According to Miss Elsham's figuring--and Crowleyacknowledged her innate brightness--the plot had thickened and Kennard, known to all operatives as Mern's close confidant, was up there as chiefperformer. 

Several days elapsed before Crowley--perspiring whenever his worriesassailed him--got any word from Mern. The chief wrote guardedly, andCrowley read the letter over a dozen times without being exactly surejust what course he was to pursue. The truth was, Mr. Mern himself wasdoing so much guessing as to Miss Kennard that he was in no state ofmind to give clean-cut commands. 

Crowley's letter was the first intimation to the chief of thewhereabouts of his confidential secretary. She had not resigned, nor hadshe asked for a leave of absence, nor had she bothered to write ortelephone; she did not show up at the office--that was all!

Lida, having discarded ethics, had decided to play her game from anambuscade, just as the Vose-Mern agency did its business. 

To give any information to the foes of Echford Flagg would be givingodds--and she was working single-handed and deserved odds for herself. She resolved to make her game as peculiar as possible--to keep all ofthem guessing--to oblige them to take the initiative against her if theyshould find out the secret of her strange actions. The element of timeentered largely into her calculations: every day on which she stoodbetween them and Ward Latisan--every day that he devoted to thedrive--was a day to be charged to her side of the ledger; and there arenot many days in the driving season when the waters _are_ high and theriver is rushing. 

A keener mind than Crowley's would have detected in Mern's letter allthe chief's inability to understand. What Crowley did get from theletter was the conviction that Miss Kennard was not to be molested atthat time. Mern made that clear, though he was vague on other points. The chief was wondering whether excess of zeal might be the reason forMiss Kennard's amazing performance. He remembered certain hints whichshe had dropped as to her financial needs, and she had not seemedaverse when he had told her on occasions that he thought of giving her acommission when the right kind of a case came along. To turn a trick fora rich corporation--working alone so that she might claim fullcredit--undoubtedly had appealed to her as her great opportunity, Mernreflected, and she had set off on her own hook, fearful that he wouldnot alter the arrangements he had made. He was angry; he muttered oathsas he weighed the situation. But he did not put any of his anger intohis letter to Crowley. Miss Kennard knew too much about the generalinner workings of the agency! In this new case there was specifically afive-thousand-dollar net fee in case Latisan could be eliminated and hiscrew left to the mercies of Comas bluster and cash. Miss Kennard, ifunduly molested, could say two words in the north country and put thatcontingent fee into limbo. 

Therefore, Chief Mern was treading softly at first. 

But from the letter which treated the general situation so gingerly thestrong-arm operative extracted one solid and convincing command. He wasto watch Miss Kennard. The command seemed entirely natural. Had he notbeen sent up there to watch--or watch over--no matter which--MissElsham? His instructions in regard to Miss Kennard seemed to make her aparticularly valuable person in the Vose-Mern plans. He was not to allowanything to interfere with his watching of Miss Kennard, not even forthe sake of Miss Elsham. He was to observe every movement, catch everyword, if possible, mark every detail of Miss Kennard's operations. 

Crowley did not show the letter to Miss Elsham, nor did he speak of it. He would mortally offend her by revealing his double-crossing tactics;as a woman she would be more offended by being relegated to thebackground in favor of the newcomer. 

Crowley found his espionage an easy job at first. All he had to reportto Mern for three or four days was that "Patsy Jones" did her work inthe hotel and remained in her room till after dark--and then went outand strolled aimlessly. She would not talk with Crowley when he graspedat opportunities to speak to her on her walks. She reminded him thatfellow operatives must be careful; furthermore, scandal might oblige herto abandon her job; he would be responsible if he insisted on doggingher about the village. 

However, Crowley was able, a few days later, to slip her a letter fromMern; the chief had inclosed it in a missive containing furtherinstructions to the operative to make sure of every move of Lida. Theinclosed letter was addressed to "Patsy Jones. "

Lida read it when she was back in her room. She noted with satisfactionthat Chief Mern was still guessing and that his detective mind wasunable to solve the mystery except on the ground that she was so loyalto the agency and so ambitious for herself that she had tackled the jobas a speculation. He chided her because she had not reported herintention. He asked for a full statement. 

She hid the letter carefully in her bureau. Having put it away forfurther reference in case she did make up her mind to answer thequestions when forced to do so, she delayed replying. She did not wantto lie needlessly to Mern--she was willing to let him do imagining, too, seeing how well it was working, to all appearances, in the cases ofElsham and Crowley. 

She had her own reasons for keeping withindoors in the daytime. Thematter of Rickety Dick was worrying her. He had seen her as a girl ofsixteen, worn with her vigils beside a sick mother; the light throughthe area windows had been dim, and he had stumbled against chairs in theroom as if his vision were poor. 

However, she discovered at the outset of her stay in Adonia that she hadbecome the object of old Dick's intent regard whenever he foundopportunity. He often trudged past the tavern on his errands; he draggedslow steps and squinted and peered. Once she caught him peeping at herthrough the open door of the dining room. She had feared some suchcloser inspection and had drawn back her hair and twisted its wavinessinto an unsightly pug; the moment she saw him she slipped into her moutha piece of spruce gum which an admiring woodsman had presented, and thenshe chewed vigorously and slatted herself about in a tough manner. Hesighed and went away muttering. 

He ventured another and a last sortie, as if he wanted to make an end ofhis doubts. He also made a sensation. 

Rickety Dick came to take dinner at the tavern!

He was in his best rig, with which he was accustomed to outfit himselffor the funerals of his old friends. There was a faded tail coat whichflapped against baggy gray trousers. A celluloid collar on a flannelshirt propped up his wrinkled chin. 

Martin Brophy stared at old Dick and then cast a look up at the officeclock, whose hands, like Dick's in the moment of mental stress, wereupraised on the stroke of twelve. 

"Flagg dead?" inquired Brophy, unable otherwise to account for Dick'sabsence from the big house at the dinner hour. 

"No! Toothache! Can't eat to-day. He let me off to go to a burying. "

"Whose?"

Old Dick shook his head and passed on into the dining room, peering hardinto the face of the waitress as he plodded toward her. "Burying!" hemuttered. "May as well make sure it's dead--and put it away. "

Lida met him as she was meeting her other problems up there--boldly. 

She leaned over him when he was seated and recited the daily bill offare. He did not take his eyes off her face, now close to his. 

"Lida Kennard, " he whispered, hoarsely, panting, pulling the hard collaraway from his throat with trembling fingers, "why ain't ye home withyour poor old grandfather, where ye belong? Lida Kennard, why ain't yehome?"

Her eyes did not waver. Brophy had followed, to be better informed as tothe funeral, and stood in the doorway. 

"Who's the nut?" inquired Patsy Jones, acridly, turning her gaze to thelandlord. "He's calling me names. " Her hard tones made the old manwince. 

"He's all right--safe--only a little crazier than usual, " returnedBrophy. "If you want to eat, Dick, go ahead and eat--but don't botherMiss Jones. I don't allow anybody to bother her. And where's thatfuneral, I ask you again?"

"Here!" said the old man, rapping his knuckles on his breast. "It'sburied. I guess I am crazy. Oh yes, I'll admit it. I see things thatain't so. "

"Well, go ahead and eat, " commanded Brophy. 

"I don't want to eat--I can't, now. " He pushed back his chair and rose. 

"What names did he call you?" demanded the landlord, truculently. "Iwon't have your feelings hurt, you know!"

"Oh, only made some funny noises, " retorted Miss Jones, flippantly. "Lethim go. I don't mind. "

Rickety Dick plodded out as he had plodded in; he was shaking his head, dismissing all his hopes and his dreams. 

Miss Jones went to another guest. "The world is full of 'em, " she said. "We have lamb, beef, and pork. "

Brophy retired, entertaining no further curiosity. 

The surge of homesickness that swept through the girl choked her--itsspray blurred her eyes as she gazed after old Dick, pitying his bentshoulders under the sun-faded coat. But even in her sorrow, because shehad been obliged to deny his wistful plaint so heartlessly, she wasconscious of relief. She had been afraid of his recognition of her;after this she would be more free to come and go. 

That evening at supper there was a guest who troubled her thoughts morethan had Rickety Dick, but in another way. Ward Latisan was down againfrom the drive, still adoring her frankly and unabashed with his eyes, following all her movements; it was plain that he had taken counsel withhimself while he had been away from her and that his love had been madeacute by separation. She was of a mind to hide away from him in her roomafter her work was done. But there was the cultivation of his friendshipto consider! She must keep up that friendship in order to be able toinfluence him. 

Timorously, wondering what was to come from the coil of events as shesaw them shaping in that region of barehanded conflict, she put on herhat and went forth. Latisan stepped off the porch and joined her, plainly no longer concerned with what the gossipers of Adonia might sayor think. 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

As on a previous occasion, when the gloom of the night had settled, theywere again at the side of the village street, at the mouth of the pathby which they had returned from the cliff above the falls. 

She had sought the falls that evening because the din of the waterswould keep him from talking too much. She was afraid of the light in hiseyes and of the repressed feeling in his tones. She knew that she mustrepulse him if he wooed. Her emotions were mixed, but she was sure therewas no love in her heart--all her thoughts were concerned with herquest. If love should by any possibility develop in her and she shouldallow him to see it, what would become of his man's appetite for fightand danger? She felt obliged to view surrender to him in that light. Onthe other hand, she could not afford to offend him deeply by allowingmatters to come to a climax between them right then; the climax mustdisclose her lack of affection. She had been estimating that hale man ofthe woods--she was certain that what she felt toward him was onlyfriendly respect for his character, and she could not lie to him or fawnfalsely for her purposes. 

"I must go up now and face the usual music, " he said, sourly. "I'mgetting to be afraid of myself with Flagg. "

"I've heard he's afflicted with the toothache to-day. You must make allallowances, " she entreated, with a dash of jest in her earnestness. 

"Then I especially need a protector. I'm going to ask you again to goalong with me. Really, you're needed if I'm expected to stay on my job. Why, " he went on, jest mingling with seriousness in his own case, "ifthe Flagg drive comes down all right through my efforts, you can takethe credit of the victory because you were present to-night and smoothedthings; he'll just have to be decent, with a strange young lady in theroom. "

She was not ready with peremptory refusal, as she had been on the otheroccasion; she had met the bugbear of Rickety Dick and had prevailed overthe old man's suspicions. As Latisan averred, her presence might helpmatters; she would entertain strange and acute regrets if her absenceshould allow the split that Latisan seemed to apprehend. 

He timidly put his hand on her arm. "Please!"

"I'll be intruding on a business talk. I may make him all the moretouchy. " She was hesitating, weighing the hazards of each plan--to go orto stay away. 

"There's no private business to be talked. I'm simply going to tell himthat I have blown the ice and have the logs in the river and I want tohave his orders about how many splash dams I can blow up if I need to doit for a head o' water to beat the Three C's drive to Skulltree. Really, he needs to talk with somebody who is gentle, " he went on, and sheresponded to the touch on her arm and walked slowly with him up thehill. "He sits there day by day and reads the tooth-for-tooth part ofthe Old Testament, and it keeps hardening his heart. I've thought of aplan. Suppose you get friendly with him! You can take some soothingbooks up to him in your off hours and read aloud. Let's try to make adifferent man of Eck Flagg, you and I. "

So, over the ledges where her childish feet had stumbled, Lida Kennard, trembling, anxious, yearning for her kin, went again to the door of thebig mansion on the hill. 

Latisan's words had opened a vista of hope to her; she might be able, after all, to render the service to which old Dick had exhorted her, hiding her identity behind a woman's desire to cheer an invalid. 

It was the same square, bleak house of her early memories, now darkexcept for a dim glow through two dingy windows in the lower part; theyee-yawed curtains were eloquent evidence of the housekeeping methods. 

"He won't have any women around, as I told you. " Latisan was not tactfulin his excuse for the slack aspect of the house. 

"I'm afraid it isn't best for me to go in, " she said, making a finalstand. 

"If you go with me you're all right, " declared the drive boss, withpride of power where the Flagg interests were concerned. "It'll do himgood to be jumped out of himself--to see a young lady from the city. "

Latisan did not knock; he walked in, escorting the girl. 

In the middle of the sitting room, in a wheel chair that was drapedwith a moosehide tanned with the hair on it, she beheld an old man witha fleece of white mane and beard. A shaded oil lamp shed a circle ofradiance on a big book which lay on his knees. The girl noted that thebook was the Bible. Outside that circle of radiance the room was indarkness and the old man heard footsteps without being able to see whohad entered; in the shadows was old Dick on his stool. 

"That you, Latisan?" demanded the master. 

"Yes, sir!" Ward was about to say more, introducing the girl, but Flaggbroke in, paying no attention to what his drive master might have on hismind. 

"Here's the stuff for real men in this book! You ought to take time toread it. I'm sorry I didn't read it regular when I was going about ontwo legs. " He pounded his hand on the opened pages. "The parsons are nowpreaching too much New Testament stuff. When my folks dragged me to themeetinghouse in the pod-auger days we got Old Testament--red hot. I'vebeen hoping I remembered it right--I've been looking it up. Listen!"

"'If thy brother, the son of thy mother, or thy son, or thy daughter, orthe wife of thy bosom, or thy friend, which is thine soul, entice theesecretly, saying, "Let us go and serve other gods, " which thou hast notknown, thou, nor thy fathers; thou shalt not consent unto him, norhearken unto him; neither shall thine eye pity him, neither shalt thouspare, neither shalt thou conceal him; but thou shalt surely kill him;thine hand shalt be first upon him to put him to death, and afterwardthe hand of all the people. And thou shalt stone him with stones, thathe die. '"

Again the old man beat his hand upon the book. "There are the orders foryou, Latisan!"

"I don't know as I just get you, sir!"

"You don't expect to find the Three C's mentioned by name in Holy Writ, do you? But the case is covered. They're asking you and me to serveother gods. They're asking us to go into their combine. If we do so itmeans that the sawmills on this river will be closed and the homesdeserted. They're taking all the timber down to the paper mills. To hellwith their paper! The folks need lumber for houses. The Three C's shan'tcontrol the market and boost prices so that folks can't buy. Latisan! Itell you again, you've got your orders, backed by the Scripture. An eyefor an eye, a tooth for a tooth! Families or corporations, it's all thesame! Why don't you say something?"

"I'm waiting to introduce a young lady, sir. This is Miss Jones who hasjust come to town. "

Flagg tipped the shade of the lamp and deflected the light upon thecouple. He bawled an ugly oath. "Clean shaved, again! Making a dude ofyourself! Sapgagging with a girl?"

Latisan stepped forward and broke in on the tirade. "I'll have to askyou to trig that kind of talk, Mr. Flagg. Miss Jones has come here tocheer you up. "

"When I want any girl to come here and cheer me up I'll drop her a lineand give her thirty days' notice. "

The caller who had been snubbed so bluntly turned on her heel. Shepleaded, faintly, "I'm sorry, sir. I'll leave you and Mr. Latisan totalk over your business. "

"I can't blame you for going, " said Latisan. He followed her, and to herprofound amazement she discovered that a woodsman could be astemperamental as a prima donna. "I'm going, too, Mr. Flagg, " he calledover his shoulder. "I'm going for good and all where you're concerned. I'm done with you. I gave you your fair warning. Send another man northto the drive. "

"Just one minute, there, Latisan!" called the master, harshly. "Unlessyou're afraid to stay here that length of time or can't spare the minuteaway from your wench!"

The drive master stopped at the door and spun around on his heel. 

There had been but one flash of the light's rays on Lida--the old manhad immediately allowed the shade to drop; standing just beyond thedoorway in the hall, she was safely in the shadows. 

"If you expect to hear me whinny like a sick horse you're mistaken, "went on Flagg, with the staccato of ire. "Now I know what you're worth. You have appraised yourself. A girl's grin has bought you. I don't knowwhat sort she is, nor care I. But unless she's a fool she can see whatyou're worth, too. Go along, now!"

There was compunction in Latisan, and he realized it. But there was thatuntamed spirit of old John, as well, and it made for rancor andrebellion. 

In that room at the moment old John's spirit was veritably present inthe grandson, reviving the ancient north-country duello of unconqueredwills with old Echford in the flesh--and a Latisan had never lowered thecrest before a Flagg. 

"It's a cheap hired man you want!" Compromise was offered no opportunityby young Latisan's manner and tone. "Hire one--of your picking! And adevilish fine boss that kind will make for you!"

"I'll hire nobody, " roared Flagg. "I'll ride to the head of the drive inthis chair. Even with both sides of me paralyzed I'll be worth more thanyou are, you lallygagging, love-cracked loon! Get out of here!"

When the two were outside in the night the girl faced Latisan. "I insiston going alone, sir. You have no right to leave a helpless man as you'redoing. I cannot believe that you mean what you said just now!"

"I'm through! I have let him curse me out all along and I took it whenceit came. But this time it's different. "

"Please go back to him. "

"I will not. I'm done!"

The grim thought came to her that she had ineluctably become a valuableoperative in the interests of the Vose-Mern agency. According toappearances the work was finished. However, she promptly blazed intoindignation which rang true. "I'm only a stranger to that poor old man. He did not understand. I had no right to rush in on him as I did. "

"I had the right to invite you. "

"I won't have it on my conscience that I have been a party to this breakbetween you two. If it were not so dreadful it would be silly, sir. "

"I have the right to be silly about my own business, if you're bound tocall it silly, what I have done. "

"Go back, I tell you!"

"I will not!"

"You shall not walk away with me. "

"I invited you to come up here. I shall see you to the door of thattavern. You may never speak to me again, but you won't be able to sayabout me that I deserted you in the dark night. "

"Will you come back here after you have escorted me to the tavern?"

"No! It's settled into a stand-off between Flagg and me. "

"Don't you want to please me?"

"Yes, even to lying down here in the mud and letting you walk on me, " hedeclared, his fervor breaking from the repression he had beenmaintaining with difficulty. "And it's because he has insulted somebodythat I feel like that toward--that's why I'm done with him. I'm notputting it very smoothly. But it's in here!" He pounded his fist on hisbreast. 

"Mr. Latisan, this is folly. I'm only a waitress. "

"I'm thanking God that you are and that you aren't too high above me, asI was afraid you were when I met you in New York. You're down where Ican talk to you. "

She started to walk away, but he leaped and seized both her arms. "Thisis going mighty fast, " he gasped. "I never talked to a girl in this wayin all my life. I'll probably never dare to talk to you if I wait fordaylight to-morrow--I'll be too scared of my thoughts overnight. "

She did not try to twist herself free from his grasp; she was moreself-possessed than he was--he was trembling in all his frame. 

"It's like dynamite, " he stammered. "I reckon it was in me all the time!The first flash of your eyes lighted the fuse! I've blown up. " He pulledher close to him, flung his arms about her, and kissed her. Butimmediately he loosed her and stepped back. "I didn't intend to do that!My feelings got away from me. "

"And now may I go along?" she inquired, coldly, after he had remainedsilent for a time. 

"I'm sorry I have made you angry. I don't know how to go at a thing likethis one I'm tackling, " he said contritely. "But I feel that talking outstraight and man fashion is the only way. Will you marry me?"

"Certainly not, sir!"

He did not attempt to stay her when she walked on. He trod humbly by herside. 

"I was afraid you wouldn't. But I couldn't keep back the asking any morethan I can push back that flood you can hear down in the gorge. It justhad to pour along, that asking!"

"Mr. Latisan, you astonish me. You desert your employer on account of amere whim----"

"Don't you call my standing up for you any whim, if you please!" Thechange in his tone from humility to stern and masterful command causedher to catch her breath. She was not accustomed to dominance by men. 

"At any rate, sir, you have proposed marriage to a stranger, a merecome-by-chance into this place, not knowing who or what I am. I have aright to be astonished. "

"Probably! But you aren't any more so than I was in New York when Irealized what had happened to me. "

"So, now you can forget all about me and go back to your work on thedrive!"

"You have said I did not know much about you. It's plain you don't knowme! I have told Eck Flagg I am done. And I am! You don't understand. I'ma Latisan and----" he faltered then; it sounded like boyish boasting andhe was a bit ashamed. 

"Somehow that helpless old man has stirred all my sympathy. Why won'tyou do as I ask?"

"Because a girl who throws a man down as you have hasn't any right toask him to do this or that. "

They were near the tavern before either spoke again. 

"I'm not saying that I'm not sorry for Eck Flagg, " the drive masterstated. "I don't want you to leave me to-night with the idea that I'm aquitter or a coward or a sneak about what's my duty. I'll be honest withyou. You think I'm a fool because I've fallen in love with you sosuddenly. A man who has tussled with drives and log jams for as manyyears as I have needs to think quickly, make up his mind about what it'sright to do, and then stick to it. I'm not going to sacrifice myself forFlagg--a man with the hard heart that's in him. " He caught his breathand plunged on: "You say to-night that you won't marry me. I'm going tostay close by and see if you won't change your mind. A roaring fire isin me right now!" His demeanor terrified her. The primitive man wasblazing. "I don't dare to take the chances on what would be in me if Ishould go back to the drive and leave you here to be smirked at by everycheap man who comes along. I have dreamed too much about you!" He waswooing with the avatar of old John. "By the gods! you're my girl! I'mgoing to have you! I'll stay on that job!"

"I shall leave this place to-morrow. It will be very--well, very unwisefor you to annoy me. "

"I'm going to follow you. "

"Mr. Latisan, I have listened to you; you shall listen to me!" She spokesharply. Now she displayed the equipoise of one who had learned muchfrom self-reliant contact with men. "I'll not argue with you about whatyou call love. But there's something which love must have, and that'sself-respect. If your folly on account of me takes you away from yourhonest duty you'll despise me when you come to yourself. You have beenhonest with me. I'll be honest with you. I like you. I can see thatyou're a big, true man--much different from most of the men I have metbefore this. But I shall lose all my good opinion of you if you desertyour job. And, as I have said, you'll hate me if I allow you to do so. Can we afford to take chances?"

While he pondered she made hurried mental account of stock in her owncase. 

She was not admitting that she felt any especial consideration for thisman as a lover; she was protecting her grandfather and striving for herown peace of mind as a payer of a debt of honor. He followed her whenshe walked on toward the tavern. 

"May I ask what you mean by taking chances? Chances on being somethingmore to each other than we are now?" he asked, wistfully. 

"I think we have gone quite far enough for one evening, sir. "

He pulled off his cap. "Before I go to sleep I shall say my littleprayer. I shall ask that you won't be thinking I have gone too far. I'msure it won't be a prayer to the God of the Old Testament, such as EckFlagg was reading about. I'll whisper up to Mother Mary. She understandswomen. I don't. "

He bowed in silence when she gave him a hasty "good night!"

Latisan whirled suddenly after the girl closed the door behind her--cameabout on his heels so quickly that he nearly bumped into the assiduousoperative Crowley, who had been taking desperate chances that evening. 

But Latisan's gaze was directed downward in deep thought as he walkedslowly away, and he did not perceive the eavesdropper. 

Mr. Crowley had heard aplenty, so he informed himself; he had followedthem all the way from the big house down to the tavern, treading closebehind, depending on their absorption in each other, his shoes in hishand, not minding the ledges and the mud; and he was in his mentalstocking feet, too, treading on the bedrock of the obvious, as hefigured on the proposition. 

He had been told many times, Mr. Crowley had, that he possessed asingle-track mind and was not fitted to deal with the subtleties ofcriminal investigation and had not the expansive wit to comprehend theroundabout ways of steering victims to their doom. But Mr. Crowley wasindubitably fitted by training to write a handbook on the art ofdouble-crossing--and he reckoned he knew an out-and-out job of that sortafter what he had heard that evening. For his own peace of mind, and tosave himself from going crazy by reason of any more puzzlement over MissKennard's alleged mysterious methods in her work, he kept insisting tohimself that she was merely double-crossing the Vose-Mern agency in thegood old-fashioned way. Not his the task to wonder why!

He rushed up to his room and started in on his report. It had stuckin Crowley's crop--seemed humiliating--to be made a subaltern in thecase of women operatives. He believed that at last he was in rightand proper on the grand opportunity of his career; he would come downfrom the bush with the bacon; Elsham had fallen down and Kennard wasdouble-crossing--and Crowley, good old reliable Crowley, would showChief Mern where the credit should go! He set his little, cheaptypewriter on his sturdy knees and pecked away stolidly with hisforefingers. 

Latisan remained outdoors a long time, for the night matched the gloomof his thoughts. And once more, in spite of himself, his dark ponderingsconcerned themselves with suspicions as to what and who this girl reallywas. 

In his early deference to her he had been ready and willing to believeall she said about herself, and his suspicion had seemed to beextinguished; he realized that it merely had been smoldering. Why wouldnot a waitress marry him, one of the Latisans of the Tomah? Was he whatold Flagg had so inelegantly stated--a sapgag where a girl wasconcerned? He began to distrust his strength as a man; he had wasted aday in New York; he was ready to give up his man's job on the Nodabecause he could not get his thoughts away from her and on his work. Hislast stay at headwaters had been hours of torture. He had gone to sleepdreaming of the girl instead of putting his attention on the problems ofthe morrow--and the details of the drive that spring needed all sorts ofjudgment and foresight. 

While he was in that state of mind, trying to excuse defection, he toldhimself, as he trudged to and fro, that he was not a fit man for Flagg. Nevertheless he cursed himself for being so weak. He had read stories ofwoman's subjugation of the famous and the strong and had wondered whatsort of lunacy had overtaken such men. Here he was making an invalid'stantrums an excuse to give up his work and dangle at the skirts of anunknown girl; and he knew it was because of the mystery of her realidentity and because his jealousy was afire on account of an uncertaintywhich was now aggravated by her refusal to marry him. 

Latisan had not been in the village ten minutes that afternoon beforeGossip Dempsey had giggled and told him he'd better keep sharp watch onhis girl, because the jewelry man was everlastingly after her like apuppy chasing the butcher's cart; the simile was not nice, but Latisanwas impressed by its suggestion of assiduity. 

In the tumult of his thought, grudgingly conscious that he was ashamedof the real reason for giving up his work, Latisan evasively decidedthat the thing was now up to Echford Flagg. He had warned Flagg manfashion. He had given his word to Flagg as to what would happen if Flaggpersisted in treating him like a lackey. Flagg had persisted. Latisanhad kept his word. He could not retreat from that stand; he could notcrawl back to Flagg and still maintain the self-respect that a drivemaster must have in the fight that was ahead. 

Therefore, Latisan decided to stay in Adonia and let Flagg makeovertures; for their future relations the drive master would be able tolay down some rules to govern Flagg's language and conduct. Under thatdecision persisted the nagging consciousness that he wanted to be withthe girl instead of on the drive and he was more and more ashamed of thenew weakness in his character. And he was also ashamed of the feelingthat he wanted to find out more about her. In the past his manliness haddespised prying and peering. He had been able to bluster loyally to oldDick; he was more truthful to himself. What was she, anyway? He wouldnot admit that he had been so completely tipped upside down in all hishale resolves, aims, and objects by a mere nonentity who looked nohigher than a job as waitress at Brophy's tavern. 

Then he went into the tavern out of the darkness and blinked at thelandlord, who called him to the desk and gave a letter into his hands. It was sealed, but there was no stamp on it. 

"Ordered by Mrs. Everett to hand it to you, " reported Brophy, sourly. "She wanted to see you last time you were down, but it slipped my mindto tell you. "

Latisan read the note. The lady of the parlor entreated him to come toher on a matter of business, no matter how late the hour might be. Hetore up the paper on his way to the fireplace and tossed the bits on theembers. 

"Same room for me?" he asked Brophy. 

"Yes, but Mrs. Everett said for me----"

"Damn Mrs. Everett! I'm going to bed. "

It consoled him a little, as he walked upstairs, to reflect that he wasnot dominated by all the women in the world, even if he was in the wayof making himself a fool over one. 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Latisan, going to sleep, hoped that he would awake with a sanerviewpoint. 

He did admit to himself in the morning that if Echford Flagg should showthe right spirit of compromise the thing could be patched up on termswhich would allow the drive master to be his own man instead of being aspanked youngster. 

The girl seized an opportunity to speak to him when she brought hisbreakfast. "Things look better this morning--I'm sure they do. Tell me. I worried half the night. I must not be the cause of trouble. "

"Yes, they look better. "

"And you're starting back to-day for the drive?" Her voice was low buteager. "Tell me that you are!"

His smouldering suspicion! Red tongues of fire darted up from it!

"I'm afraid you won't be able to get rid of me to-day. Business iskeeping me here. "

Her entreating smile faded; she backed way from him as if she hadreceived a rude thrust, and then she went about her work. 

There was a real sensation in the tavern that morning! The exclusivestar boarder of the parlor came into the public room to eat herbreakfast. Her charms were enhanced by a becoming morning wrap, and, following out her liberal code governing the relations of sex in moderndays, she seated herself at Latisan's table, greeting him with amingling of bright good humor and gentle rebuke. 

"Give me a good reason why you have not been the advising friend youpromised to be, and I may not be too angry, Mr. Latisan. "

"I--I thought I'd wait till this morning----"

"Thank you! Then I'm welcome at your table. "

She lowered her voice after that. She was engrossed with ordinary topicswhenever the waitress's duties brought Lida to the table. If there wasto be rivalry between the operatives of Vose-Mern, Miss Elsham decidedthat her tactics with the Flagg drive master should not be known. Shedid the talking and Latisan gave the appearance of being an earnestlistener. At a matter of fact, he played up strongly his affectation ofdevoted interest. Ingenuous amateur that he was in the subtleties oflove, he was trying out a method which he had heard commended; he waswondering how much an aroused jealousy might accomplish in the case ofMiss Patsy Jones. 

He cast side glances and saw that she seemed to be disturbed. Hebestowed on Mrs. Everett more profound attention. He even allowedhimself to say when the waitress was within earshot, "I think I'll knowby to-morrow whether I'm to keep on at the head of the drive. If I don'tand if matters allow, I'll be glad to take charge of your trip into thenorth country. "

Latisan, boyishly crude in his methods, felt that Miss Jones would havean interpretation of her own for "matters" and would do some earnestthinking before she turned him over to the companionship of a richyoung widow, even in the humble rôle of a chief guide. 

In spite of Brophy's sign, "No Smoking in This Dining Room"--arestriction intended for woodsmen--Miss Elsham lighted a cigarette inher satisfaction; her failure to interest the man of the woods even tothe extent of a second interview had been worrying the seductress deluxe of the Vose-Mern establishment after her unbroken successes withthe men of the city. 

She went out of the room chatting with Latisan, and found an opportunityto sweep Miss Kennard with a patronizing glance. 

Latisan spent the forenoon on the tavern porch, smoking his pipe andwaiting--even hoping--for a message from Echford Flagg. Rickety Dickpassed the place several times on his usual errands. Flagg, therefore, would be informed that the drive master was loafing in the village. Butold Dick did not bring any word from the big house to Latisan. 

To be sure, the split of the evening before had seemed discouraginglyfinal. But after the girl's rebuke and appeal Ward was ashamed of thepersisting stubbornness which was making him an idler in that exactingperiod when the thunderous Noda waters were sounding a call to duty. Hedid not want her to think of him as vindictive in his spirit, and stillless did he desire her to consider him petty in his motives and notions. 

On the other hand, the proposition was strictly a man-to-man affair, andEchford Flagg had made relations unendurable. 

Ward wished devoutly that he could clear his thoughts; they weremuddled. Back of the inertia which was hiding him in Adonia there seemedto be reasons other than the new animosity toward his employer. Really, he confessed to himself, he would like to go to Flagg and win to amanlike and mutual understanding which would serve both of them. But hemuttered when he looked up at the big house, and he kept on waiting forthe master to offer an opening. 

He confessed that his was a childish attitude toward an employer. Had heallowed his infatuation to twist him into this being who was putting theburden of an offer of compromise upon a poor old stricken man who oughtto be protected from his own intolerance?

However, the drive master was aware of a certain satisfaction in beingon hand to watch and weigh affairs in Adonia that day. 

The raffle man, as the villagers called Crowley, seemed to have a greatdeal on his mind, Latisan reflected. Crowley made several trips to thetelegraph office at the railroad station. 

At dinner Miss Jones averted her eyes from Latisan and there was no talkbetween them. Latisan tried to comfort himself, by the thought thatjealousy was operating. He saw her go out in the afternoon for a walk, but he did not offer to accompany her. His naïve conviction was that hisindifference and the threat of interest in Mrs. Everett would suffice tobring Miss Patsy Jones down from her coquette's pedestal. 

He was tempted to leap up and follow when he saw Crowley trailing afterthe waitress; but Crowley went only a little distance, and then he cameback and went into the tavern and upstairs. 

Again in midafternoon old Dick passed, but he brought no word to thewaiting drive master. 

This insulting indifference, as Latisan considered it, indicated thatEchford Flagg was no longer depending on Ward as champion. There hadbeen no misunderstanding of language. Latisan had quit--and Flagg wascontented to let him stay quit. 

The young man felt more acutely cheap and small. He had been settinghimself up as the one man who could drive down the Flagg logs. The factthat he could not bring himself to break away instanter and go north tohis duty--without orders from Flagg and without considering further hisentanglement with a girl--was a fact that steadily lessened hisself-esteem. He had been able to go straightforwardly in all matterstill then; this new inability to handle complex affairs and to untanglethe situation made him distrust himself and wonder whether he was muchof a man, anyway!

Then came night--and he went to his room to brood. 

At supper the girl of his thoughts had been conspicuously rude in themanner with which she banged down dishes in front of him. 

Lida had been doing some pondering of her own. She would not admit thatshe had been piqued by his attentions to Elsham and by his partialpromise to that complacent young lady. But she was finding him to bevery much of a child, she told herself. He needed to be protected fromhimself at that juncture. And he needed to be convinced that he waswasting his time just then by staying away from duty and playing thelover. Lida's first thought was that if he found no profit in lovemakinghe would go back to his work in spite of what he had told her. She couldnot bring herself to believe that a man like Latisan would succumb toElsham's wiles. 

In that mood, both as protectress and as stanch believer in hisuprightness, she found that her interest in him was becoming more vividthan she had realized. Her warming heart sent a flush into her cheekswhen she remembered the passionate embrace. She noted that flush whenshe looked into her mirror. She was making herself ready for slumber. 

"Don't be a fool!" she warned the reflection in the mirror. 

Having clarified the situation to that extent in her thoughts beforegoing to sleep, she awoke and began the new day with better confidence. The spirit of the Open Places certainly did make folks honest, she toldherself! She felt that the morning must have brought common sense toLatisan, as it had to her. 

From her window she saw him walking to and fro in front of the tavern. The early dawn was flushing the east. His being abroad at that hoursuggested that he was going back to his work instead of playing theidling lover. She decided to be frank with him; she dressed in haste, hurried down and faced him, and told him how glad she was that he hadcome into his right senses; she had determined that her best course wasto take his reformed mental state for granted. 

"Yes, I'm sensible enough to quit being a boss bulldog for a man likeEck Flagg. " He was sorry after he said it. But there was no word fromFlagg--and her insistence, as if she wanted to be rid of him, rasped hisraw temper. 

"But you're going back to the drive!" she gasped. 

"I am not. "

"Don't you value your reputation among men?"

"I do!"

"They'll say you're a quitter. " She spoke boldly and sharply. 

"Let me tell _you_ something! When you told me that you wouldn't marryme I came nigh quitting where you're concerned. But I am back in myright senses, as you say! You're mine! I have told you so. I tell youagain this morning. It's something of a fix you've got yourself into, eh?"

She grew pale and her wide eyes were filled with startled protest; hewas placid enough, but his calmness made the thing more grim andthreatening when she reflected on the suggestiveness of that word "fix. "She was unable to endure his scrutiny. He did not try to restrain herwhen she turned away, hastening into the tavern. 

Brophy came into the dining room when he heard her setting the tables. "Well, by swanny! You're up without being called! You ain't much likethe others I've had here!"

He was silent for some time, and when she turned she found him surveyingher with curious intentness. "It ain't none of my business, of course, but I hope you ain't of a marrying notion, just yet awhile. "

"That remark seems a little uncalled for, Mr. Brophy. "

"I'm speaking out because Ward Latisan doesn't seem to be the flirtingkind, miss. You can't fool with him. "

"I thank you. I shall avoid Mr. Latisan from now on. I havethoughtlessly taken walks with him. "

"If it's such a thing as you're intending to get married I'd rather loseyou to Latisan than to anybody else in this region. He's solid goods, miss! Solid!"

She was seeking confirmation to strengthen her resolves. "I hear thathis employer is an invalid. I suppose that makes Mr. Latisan pretty nighindispensable, doesn't it?"

"There'll be no Flagg drive down this spring without Ward on thejob--I'll say that much, " declared Brophy, with vigor. "I can't affordto make any loud talk about the Three C's, miss, " he went on, loweringhis voice cautiously, "because I cater to all comers. But I don't knowanother boss driver who couldn't be scared off or bought off at thepresent time, considering the hold the big corporation has got on thingsup this way. They're bound to monopolize the river--the Three C's gang. But they can't freeze out the independents this year if Ward Latisanstays on the job for Eck Flagg. The death clinch comes this season!"

"Where's your law up this way, Mr. Brophy?" she demanded. 

"I guess neither side dares to call on the law right now. Law might tieup everything. Logs have got to come along with the spring drivingpitch, and high water won't wait till lawyers get done arguing. "

He took down a gong and pounded on it with a padded mallet while hemarched through the office to the porch and back again. It was thebreakfast call. 

"I'll say about Eck Flagg, " he stated, when he hung the gong back on itshook, "that he ain't so much to blame for his sour temper as some folksare bound to have it. Old Job of the Bible had nothing on Eck fortroubles. No matter what he has done, Eck has been a square fighter. Probably you ain't interested, even to the extent of a hoot, in gossipabout the neighbors. But Eck had a bad one put over on him years ago. Hehasn't been right since that time. Square dealing is his religion. Butto get his worst trimming right in his own family, it was awful. Son-in-law done it. But I reckon I'd better hang up on that subject, miss. Here comes Latisan for breakfast. "

The landlord plodded out. 

This man who seated himself, waiting to be served by her, who wasdetermined to possess her, had been unwittingly alienated by her fromthe duty which was owed to that helpless grandfather in his extremity. 

The reminder which Brophy had tossed at her carelessly had served torouse her to desperation. She clung to a service table to keep fromfalling. She staggered when she started to cross the room to Latisan;her hands and feet were prickling as the blood resumed its course in herveins. 

"You're sick, " he suggested, solicitously. 

She shook her head. She turned her face from him, afraid of hisquestioning gaze. "Give your order, please!"

"Bring anything. "

She started away, but turned and hurried back to his table, her facehard with resolution. She feared that the resolution would be weakenedby delay; in a few moments others would come into the room. 

"I have changed my mind about that offer of marriage. This morning Isay, 'Yes!'"

He gaped at her and started to rise. 

"Don't leave that chair!" she commanded, her low tones tense. "There aremen in the office looking this way. I'll marry you when the Flagg driveis down, with you at the head of it, doing your duty. You may think thatover while I'm in the kitchen. "

When she returned with food, Latisan, flushed, eager, only partiallyassured, looked her in the eye, challenging her candor. "That's straighttalk, is it?"

"It is!"

"I thank God! But why--right here in the open--where I can't----"

"I'll answer no questions. "

"I'd like to know why you picked out this place to tell me. I can't beshut away from all the glory in the grandest moment of my life! I wantto get up and yell for joy. I want to take you in my arms. "

"I'll not allow that. Furthermore, you are to leave for the driveimmediately after you have eaten your breakfast. " Her manner cowed him. 

"Very well!" he returned, meekly. "When I looked into your eyes I knewthat your word to me was good!"

She was finding the fixity of his gaze disconcerting and leaned abovethe table, arranging the dishes which contained his food. She wasgrateful for the protection the public room was affording; she would nothave been able to declare herself in the privacy which love, in mostcircumstances, demands. 

"Who are you?" he asked, in a half whisper, taking advantage of hernearness. "You are more than you seem to be. You are, I say! You are notsilly and selfish like most girls in a time like this. You are able tomake me do anything you ask. I'll go north and fight because you want meto. But an ordinary girl wouldn't take a big view of things, as you do. "

"Yes--for the sake of having a man be what he ought to be. "

He wagged his head doubtfully. "But if you'll tell me the honest truthabout----"

"Hush! Here comes a man. "

It was Crowley. He had looked from his chamber window and had seen thetwo in conversation in front of the tavern. He was strictly on the jobthat day; he had dressed in such a hurry that he was tying his necktieas he entered the room. He sat down at a table and glared grimly atLatisan and the girl; provided with ammunition that fortified hiscourage, Crowley had resolved to make his bigness in the matter, unafraid. 

His appearance at that moment and the manner of his espionage and thememory of what had been said concerning his pursuit of the girl stirredLatisan to the depths. His emotions had been in a tumult ever since thegirl had declared her promise. He was in no mood to reason calmly. Hecould not control himself. He purposed to go to what he thought was hisduty as her accepted champion. Therefore, he leaped from his chair, puthis arm about her waist, and pulled her across the room, in spite of herresistance. 

"Listen to me, you sneak!" he adjured Crowley. "This young lady and Iare engaged to be married. "

"Hush!" she cried, in mingled fright and fury. "You promised----Itisn't----"

"I made no promise except to go north because you have asked me to go. I'm going back to my job, and I'll have the Flagg logs down if I have tosmash the bottom out of the river, " he boasted, in his new pride. "Crowley--as I believe your name is--you have heard me announce theengagement. If you give this young lady another twisted look or crookedword while I'm away, may God have mercy on your soul!"

He was talking to the one man who ought to hear that news, so the loverfelt, but his voice was raised in his emotion and Brophy and theloungers in the office heard, too. 

Latisan kissed her once, swiftly and rapturously. 

According to the code of social procedure in Adonia, as the officeonlookers viewed the matter of congratulation, the occasion called forthree cheers; they were proposed and given and even Brophy joined, butwith sour grace. 

She had endeavored ineffectually to check Latisan's outburst, understanding fully the interlocking perils involved in the promulgationto Crowley that the drive master was going back to his work. It hadbecome her own personal, vital affair, this thing! She was far fromadmitting even then that love was urging her to the promise she hadmade so precipitately. The wild spirit of sacrifice had surged in her. She was able to pay--to redeem! It was all for the sake of the family!But this love-cracked idiot, babbling his triumph, had thrown wide thegate of caution--had exposed all to the enemy; she feared Crowley in hissurly, new mood!

Poor Ward turned to her a radiant, humid stare of devotion; sheresponded by flashing fury at him from her eyes. Her cheeks werecrimson. "Haven't you any wit in you?" she raged, holding her tones inleash with effort, her convulsed face close to his amazed countenance. 

"It was to put you right----" he stammered. 

"It has made everything all wrong!"

Men had come into the room. She hurried away from the dumfounded lover. 

While she went about her work, sedulously keeping her gaze from Latisan, she heard the men jocosely canvassing the matter. They called to thedrive master, giving him clumsy congratulation. There were timbercruisers who were going into the north country; they declared withhilarity that they would spread the news. They ate and went stampingaway, news bureaus afoot. 

She marched to the pathetic incarnation of doubt and dolor after a time;he was lingering at table in a condition that was near to stupefaction. 

"Why aren't you on your way?" she demanded, with ireful impatience. 

"You'll have to tell me what the matter is with you!"

"I'll tell you nothing--not now! But you have something to tell Mr. Flagg, haven't you?"

"You're right! I'll go and tell him that I'm starting for the drive. IfI have to smash the hinges off the door of Tophet I'll put our logs----"

"That's it!" she cried, eagerly. "Our logs! We'll call them our logs. Don't mind because I seemed strange a little while ago. You'llunderstand, some day. But now hurry! Hurry!" She forced herself tosmile. She was eagerly in earnest, almost hysterical. She spoke hisname, though with effort. "Remember, Ward! Our logs! Bring themthrough!"

He leaped out of his chair. The other breakfasters were gone. She stoodon tiptoe and kissed his cheek. 

Immediately after Latisan had left on his way to assure Echford Flagg, the girl was reminded of her putative Vose-Mern affiliations. Crowleylounged back into the room, taking advantage of the fact that she wasalone. "Put me wise as to why you're playing this shot with the reverseEnglish. "

"Hands off, Crowley! You're only a watchdog, paid to guard me. "

"I don't propose to have our folks double-crossed. You have started thatdrive boss back onto his job, and you and he announce an engagement thismorning! You're cagy or crazy! I won't have anything put over! If you'restraight, come through to me and I'll back you. Otherwise----" He tossedhis hands in an eloquent gesture. 

"I'll wire to have you pulled down to the city. "

"I have done some wiring ahead of you. It's up to our folks to find outwhat's the big idea. "

"Crowley, won't you leave it all to me?" she pleaded, fighting to thelast ditch for her secret and for time. "Can't you see that I'm placinga double-crosser in the enemy's camp?"

He looked at her hard and long and his lips curled into a sardonic grin. "You're a good one. I'll admit that. But you can't stand there and giveme the straight eye and make me believe you have made over Latisan tothat extent. I've got him sized. It can't be done!"

Crowley was right--she could not meet his sophisticated gaze. 

"What do you expect me to do?" she asked, lamely. 

"Keep him off the drive. If he starts to leave this village to-day I'mgoing to grab in. "

She knew Crowley's obstinacy in his single-track methods. There was notelling what he would undertake nor what damage might be wrought by hisinterference. She tried to force from him his intentions; he paid noheed to her appeals or her threats. 

She was fighting for her own with all the wit and power that were inher; she was standing in the path by which the enemies must advance, resolved to battle as long as her strength might last, serving as bestshe could to distract attention from the main fight to herself, willingto sacrifice herself utterly. 

Crowley walked with a bit of a swagger from the room, lighted acigarette in the office, puttered for a few moments with some oldnewspapers on a table, and then went out of doors and strolled along theroad in the direction of the big house on the hill. She observed hiscourse from a side window. She felt the impulse to run after him andbeat her fists against that broad and stubborn back. 

She saw Latisan come striding down from the Flagg mansion, determinationin his manner. 

The two men met. They halted. 

Her apprehension became agony, but she did not dare to interfere betweenthem. 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Crowley, standing in front of Latisan, twisted his countenance into anexpression of deprecatory, appealing remorse. 

"I have taken the liberty of apologizing to the young lady, sir! Nowthat I know how matters stand, I want to beg your pardon very humbly. Ihaven't meant anything wrong, but a man of my style gets cheeky withoutrealizing it. "

Latisan had come off well in his interview with Echford Flagg. The oldman seemed to be in a chastened mood. When he had been informed of thepart the girl was playing, the master had admitted that the right kindof a woman can influence a man to his own good. 

Therefore, when the drive master strode down the hill, the radiance ofhis expansive joy had cleared out all the shadows. He was willing tomeet a penitent halfway. He put out his hand frankly. Crowley held tothe hand for a moment and put his other palm upon Latisan's shoulder. "Congratulations! I know my place, now that it has become a man-to-manmatter between us. But before--well, I'll tell you, Mr. Latisan, I hadmet Miss Jones in New York in a sort of a business way and I wasprobably a little fresh in trying to keep up the acquaintance. "

Latisan had extricated his hand, intending to hurry on about hisaffairs. But here was a person who seemed to be in a way to tell himsomething more definite about one who was baffling his wild anxiety tofathom her real identity. However, Latisan did not dare to askquestions. His own pride and the spirit of protecting her reasons forreticence, if she had any, fettered his tongue; he was ashamed to admitto this man, whom he had so recently hated, that the real character of afiancée was a closed book. 

"Honestly, she ought to have told you that she knew me, " complainedCrowley. "It would have saved all that trouble between you and me. " Herubbed his ear reminiscently. "But perhaps she did, " he pursued, affecting to misinterpret the hardness which had come into Latisan'sface. "But how she could say anything against me, as far as she and Iare concerned, I can't understand. "

"She has not mentioned you to me, " returned Latisan, curtly. 

"That's queer, too, " said Crowley, wrinkling his brow, his demeanoradding to the young man's conviction that the whole situation wasdecidedly queer. Once more the smoldering embers were showing redflames! "Mr. Latisan, get me right, now! I don't propose to discuss theyoung lady, seeing what she is to you. But perhaps you'll allow me torefer back to what you said to me, personally, in the tavern a littlewhile ago. We can make that our own business, can't we?"

Crowley accepted a stiff nod as his answer and went on. "You told methat you are going back to the drive because the young lady hasinsisted on your doing so. That right?"

"It is. But I fail to see how you can make it any part of your businessand mine. "

"It happens to belong in my business. " He put his hand to his breastpocket as if to reassure himself. He proceeded with more confidence. "Are you afraid of the truth, Mr. Latisan--scared to meet it face toface in a showdown?"

"I'm in the habit of going after the truth, no matter where it hidesitself. "

"Then I guess you'd better come along with me. I've got to the pointwhere I've got to have the truth, too, or else fetch up in a crazyhouse. "

Crowley's determination was set definitely on his mind's single track. If a man had an urgent reason for doing a certain thing and thecompelling reason were removed, he might naturally be expected to dosomething else, Crowley figured. 

If Latisan proposed to go back to work because his love and allegiancecaused him to obey a girl's commands, he would do the opposite of whatshe asked if his love and confidence were destroyed. It seemed to be acase of two and two making four, as Crowley viewed the thing. He wasdone with tangled subtleties. 

He put his hand again on his breast pocket as he walked with the drivemaster down the hill. There was a letter in that pocket; Crowley hadpurloined it from the girl's bureau that day when he had so quicklyreturned from following her. And he also had a telegram in that pocket;the wire had come along that morning, addressed to Miss Patsy Jones, inhis care. 

The job, as Crowley understood orders, was to keep Latisan off the riverthat season. Crowley saw a way of doing that job and of getting thecredit for the performance. 

The girl, staring through the window with strained attention, notingevery detail of the meeting, seeing the appearance of amity and ofunderstanding, beholding Crowley put his hand on Latisan's shoulder inthe pose of friendly adviser, suspected the worst; she was stricken withanguished certainty when Latisan strode toward the tavern; according toher belief, two men were now arrayed against her. The drive master'shaste indicated that she had been betrayed by the sullen botcher ofmethods. 

In that room she felt like a creature that had been run tocover--cornered. She wanted to escape into the open. There was honestyoutside, anyway, under the sky, at the edge of the forest, where thethunder of the great falls made human voices and mortal affairs so pettyby contrast. 

She ran through the tavern office and faced Latisan in the yard; therewere curious spectators on the porch, the loungers of the hamlet, butshe paid no attention to them; she was searching the countenance ofLatisan, avidly anxious, fearfully uncertain regarding what mischief hadbeen wrought in him. 

He smiled tenderly, flourishing a salute. "All serene in the big house!"

The white was succeeded by a flush in her cheeks. She looked up into hishonest eyes and was thrilled by an emotion that was new to her. It wasimpossible not to answer back to that earnest affection he wasexpressing. Gratitude glowed in her--and gratitude is a sister of love!

"I beg your pardon, " put in Crowley, "But can't the three of us stepinside and have a little private talk?"

He made a gesture to indicate the gallery of listeners on the tavernporch. 

Once that morning Lida had found protection by handling an importantcrisis in a public place. She was having no time just then to thinkclearly. She was feeling sure of Latisan, after his look into her eyes. She mustered a smile and shook her head when the drive master mutelyreferred the matter to her, raising his eyebrows inquiringly. 

"You'd better, " warned Crowley, bridling. 

The girl felt that she had no option except to keep on in the boldcourse she had marked for herself. She could not conceive that theoperative would prejudice the Vose-Mern proposition in public. "I cannotunderstand what private matters we three have in common, sir. I have nodesire to listen. Mr. Latisan has no time, I'm sure. He is leaving forthe north country. "

"That's true, " agreed Latisan, under the spell of her gaze, won by her, loyal in all his fiber, determined to exclude all others in the worldfrom the partnership of two. He had put aside his anxiety to know whatshe had been in the city, as Crowley knew her; that quest seemed to bedisloyalty to her. "I'm starting mighty sudden! Sorry, sir! Let Brophyput your business with us in his refrigerator till the drive is down. "

Careless of the onlookers, the girl patted his cheek, encouraging hisstand. "Till _our_ drive is down. Remember, it's ours!" she whispered. 

"Harness in my horses, " Latisan called to Brophy's nephew in the door ofthe tavern stable. 

She was human; she was a girl; Latisan's manner assured her that she hadwon her battle with Crowley, whatever might have been the methods bywhich he had tried to prevail over the drive master. She could notresist the impulse to give the Vose-Mern operative a challenging look oftriumph that was lighted by the joy of her victory. 

Crowley's slow mind speeded up on its one track; he opened the throttle, smash or no smash! He marched up to Latisan and displayed a badge, dredging it from his trousers pocket. "That's what I am, mister, anoperative for a detective agency. So is she!"

"I am not, " she declared defiantly. 

"Maybe not, after your flop in this case. But you were when you struckthis place, if your word means anything!"

"You're a liar, " shouted Latisan. He doubled his fist and drew it back;the girl seized the hand and unclasped the knotted grip and braided herfingers with his. 

"I don't blame you, Latisan. It's natural for you to feel that waytoward me right now, " agreed Crowley. "She has slipped the cross-tagonto you. But you're no fool. I don't ask you to take my word. Go downto that railroad station and wire to an address I'll give you in NewYork. Ask her if she dares to have you do it. "

There was no longer a smolder in Latisan--it was all a red flame!

He had not realized till then how penetratingly deep had been hisconviction that this girl was something other than she assumed to be. 

Crowley pulled a letter from his pocket, flapped it open, and shoved itunder Latisan's nose. 

There was no further attempt to deal behind doors with the affair. Itwas in Crowley's mind, then, that spreading the situation wide openbefore the gaping throng, which was increasing, crowding about in anarrowing circle, would assist his plan to make intolerable Latisan'sstay in that region. 

"Look at the letterhead--Vose-Mern Agency! Look and you'll see that it'saddressed to Miss Patsy Jones, Adonia. Take it and read it! It's ordersto her from the chief!"

Latisan was plainly in no state of mind to read; he crumpled the letterin his hand and stuffed the paper into his trousers pocket. 

"Here's a telegram, " continued the operative. "It's for her to go backto New York. It hasn't been enough for her to double-cross you; she'sdoing the same thing to the folks who have hired her. Nice kind of dame, eh? I don't know just what her game is, friend! But I'm coming across toyou and tell you that the big idea is to keep you off the drive thisseason. Good money has been put up to turn the trick. "

In the midst of the whirling torches which made up his thoughts justthen, Latisan was not able to give sane consideration to her zeal inurging him to duty; he was conscious only of the revelation of hercharacter. Out of the city had come some kind of a design to undo him!

The village was still agog with the news of his engagement; the newsbureaus on legs had gone north to tattle the thing among all the camps;and she was a detective sent to beguile him! The faces of the bystanderswere creasing into grins. 

"Ask her!" urged Crowley, relentlessly. "Or ask New York. "

Postponement of the truth was futile; denial was dangerous; a confessionforced by an appeal to New York would discredit her motives; she had notformally severed her connection with the agency. She determined to meetthis man of the woods on his own plane of honesty. 

"Come with me where we can talk privately, " she urged; her demeanor toldLatisan that she was not able to back the defiant stand he had takenwith Crowley a moment before. 

"It's too late now, " he objected, getting his emotions partly undercontrol. "The thing has been advertised too much to have any privacyabout it now. When they are left to guess things in this section theguessing is awful! I'm never afraid to face men with the truth. He hassaid you came here as a detective. Those men standing around heard him. What have you to say?"

"Won't you let me talk to you alone?"

"If I'm to stand up here before men after this, the facts will have tocome out later; they may as well come out now. "

He spoke mildly, but his manner afforded her no opportunity for furtherappeal; he was a man of the square edge and he was acting according tothe code of the Open Places. She put away womanly weakness as best shewas able and continued with him on his own ground. 

"There is a plot to keep you away from your duty on the drive thisseason. You know as well as I do what interests furnished the money forsuch a purpose. "

"And you know about it, do you, because you are one of the detectivegang?"

"I have worked for the Vose-Mern agency. "

She could not deny the evidence of that letter which he had shoved deepdown into his pocket. He had reminded her of it by whacking his handagainst his thigh. 

"So that's what you are!" Again he was losing control of himself. 

Men in the crowd snickered. They were perceiving much humor in thesituation. 

"I can explain later. " She, too, was breaking down under the strain. Shewhimpered, pleading with him. "After you have brought down the drive Ican explain and----"

"Now! It must be now! I can't bring down any drive till you do explain. "

She did not understand. 

But he knew all too bitterly under what a sword of Damocles he wasstanding. Ridicule was ready to slay him! The Big Laugh was alreadygurgling deep in the throats of all the folks. The news of hisengagement had gone ahead of him to the north country; the Big Laughwould roar along in the wake of that news. 

"The truth! It must come out now!" he shouted. "All the truth--the wholetruth about yourself!"

"I can't tell you!" wailed Lida Kennard, turning her back fearsomely onthe big house on the ledges. 

"You've got a mouthful of truth out of me. Can't you see how it is?"growled Crowley. 

"So that's what you are, is it?" Latisan dwelt on the subject, twistingthe handle that Crowley had given him. 

"Mr. Latisan, listen to me! I implore you to forget me--what I am! Go toyour work. "

"My work has nothing to do with this matter between you and me. Sothat's what you are!" he repeated, insistent on his one idea, lookingher up and down. "A detective sneak!"

"I am done with the work. I am a human being, at any rate, and youpromised me----"

He sliced his hand through the air. "That's all off! You lied to me. Itmust have been a lie, seeing what you are. But I believed, and I stoodup and took you for mine. The word has gone out. Every man on the Nodawill know about it. I had no rights over your life till you met me. Butwhen a woman lies to a man to make him do this or that she is laughingat him behind his back. You have played me for a poor fool in the talltimber. That's the word that's starting now. "

"If you have found out how worthless I am, " she sobbed, "you can go onwith your work and be a real man. "

He loosed the leash on himself. He mocked her with bitter irony, hisface working hideously. "'Go on with your work!' Don't you have any ideawhat men are up these woods? Who'll take orders from me after this?They'll hoot me off the river! I'm done. You have put me down andunder!"

More than the spirit of sacrifice was actuating her then. Her impulseswere inextricably mingled, but they all tended to one end, to save himfrom error. His scorn had touched her heart; meeting him on his ownplane--on the level of honesty--woman with man, she was conscious ofbitter despair because he was leaving her life. She was fighting for herown--for the old man in the big house, for the new love that wasspringing up out of her sympathy for this champion from whom, withoutrealizing the peril of her procedure, she had filched the weapons of hismanhood at the moment when he needed them most. 

"The heart has gone out of me! You have taken it out!" he cried. 

"I swear before our God that I'll be straight with you from now on. Won't it put heart in you if I'm your wife, standing by you througheverything?" She took a long breath. Her desperation drove her to thelimits of appeal. "I love you! I know it. I must have known it when Iurged you on to your duty. I'm willing to say it here before all. Takeme, and let's fight together. "

In her hysterical fear lest she was losing all, she took no thought ofher pride; she was making passionate, primitive appeal to the chosenmate. 

But she did not understand how absolutely hopeless was the wreck of thisman's fortunes, as Latisan viewed the situation. Ridicule, the tauntthat he had been fooled by a girl from the city, was waiting for him allalong the river. Echford Flagg would be the first to deny the worth of aman who had received the Big Laugh. No man on the Noda had ever incurredmock to such a degree. And he had vaunted his engagement to her!

She went toward him, her hands outstretched; he had been backing awayfrom her. 

"Look out!" he warned. "I never struck a woman!" He spread his big hand. All the fury of his forebears was rioting in him. 

He was not swayed by rage, merely; there would have been something pettyin ordinary human resentment at that moment. There was another qualitythat was devilishly and subtly complex in the sudden mania whichobsessed him. He had seen woodsmen leaping and shouting in the ecstasyof drunkenness; liquor seemed to affect the men of the woods in thatway--to accentuate their sense of wild liberty. Latisan had been obligedto pitch in and quell riots where woodsmen had heaped their clothes andwere making a bonfire of the garments they needed for decency's sake. And a mere liquid had been able to put them into that temper!

But this that was sweeping through all his being was liquid fire!

He had never been else than a spectator of what alcohol would do to aman; he had never tasted the stuff. 

Here he was, all of a sudden, drunk with something else--he knew that hewas drunk--and he let himself go! He leaped up and tossed his arms abovehis head. By action alone a woodsman expressed his feelings, he toldhimself, and he was only a woodsman; the hellions of the world were notallowing him to make anything else of himself! The north country wasclosed to him; his power as a boss was gone. Look at those grinningfaces around him!

Then he yelled shrilly. Many who stood around understood what that whoopmeant, though it had not been heard for a long time on the Noda. It was"the Latisan lallyloo"! It had echoed among the hills in the old dayswhen John Latisan was down from the river and had grabbed a bottle fromthe hand of the first bootlegger who offered his wares. 

The grandson, then and there, was veritably drunk with the frenzy ofdespair!

Yanking his arms free, he dragged off his belted jacket and flung it onthe ground; on the jacket, with a pile-driver sweep of his arm, he drovedown his cap. 

"Lie there, drive master!" he shouted. 

The down train of the narrow-gauge was dragging out of the station; asuccession of shrill whistle toots, several minutes before, had warnedprospective passengers. 

Latisan ran down the middle of the road and leaped aboard the slowlymoving train when it crossed the highway. Standing on the platform ofthe passenger car, he shook his fists at assembled Adonia and yelledagain. 

Brophy, from the tavern porch, looked hard at the girl and started downthe steps, making his way toward the jacket and cap which Latisan hadthrown away. 

She ran and picked them up and hugged them in her arms with defiantproprietorship. 

"How come?" sneered Brophy. "Latest bulletin seemed to be that theengagement was broke!" He was suddenly hostile. 

She turned from the landlord and faced Crowley. The operative wastriumphant. "It's understood that I get the credit for this job, " heinformed her, _sotto voce_. His air suggested that he was convinced thatthe destiny of the Flagg drive had been settled. 

All about her were implacable faces. The grins were gone. There was nomisunderstanding the sentiments which those men entertained toward awoman who had wrought the undoing of a square man. She presentedcompletely then the pathetic spectacle of a baited, cowering, wildcreature at bay. She was bitterly alone among them. Even Crowley of thecity was against her. In her agony of loneliness the thought of her kinin the big house on the hill came to her mind. But to her, in spite ofher passionate efforts to aid, must be ascribed the defection ofLatisan--the breaking of her grandfather's last prop. She hadintensified in woeful degree the fault of her father; she had compassedthe ruin of the old man at a time when he was unable to restore hisfortunes by his own effort. The doors of the house on the hill werebarred by the iron of unforgiveness and by these new fires of her fault, involuntary though that fault was. 

Brophy stood before her. "I reckon you ain't going to be very popularhereabout as a hash-slinger, Miss Whatever-your-name is. " He snapped hisfingers and stretched his hand to command the transfer of the jacket andcap. "I'll take 'em and put 'em in Ward's room. "

But she clung to what she had retrieved as if she felt that she held ahostage of fortune. Brophy refrained from laying violent hands on thearticles, and to save his face and create a diversion he turned onCrowley. 

"Let's see! You have bragged about being a detective! We don't stand foryour kind or tricks in this neck o' woods. "

There was the menace of growls in the crowd. The mob spirit wasstirring. A man said something about a rail and tar and feathers. 

"I'll argue with the boys and try to give you a fair start, " stated thelandlord. "But you'd better pack up in a hurry. You can't wait forto-morrow's train under my roof. I'll furnish you a livery hitch to thejunction. Take the woman with you. "

It was an ugly crowd; the landlord was obliged to push back men whenCrowley followed Lida into the tavern. 

Miss Elsham was just inside the door, where she had posted herself as aspectator and listener. "There's no telling what they'll do; they'rebound to find out that I'm an operative, " she quavered. "You must takeme with you, Buck. "

He had been appointed her guardian and he could not refuse. But heglowered at Lida, white and trembling. 

Brophy came in after a struggle at the door; he slammed the portal andbolted it. 

"They're usually pretty genteel up here where wimmen are concerned, " hetold Lida, "but they're laying it all to you. They'll let you go, Crowley, if you'll go in a hurry. Are you one of 'em, too?" he bluntlyasked Miss Elsham, ready to suspect all strangers. 

She nodded. "I'm going with Crowley. "

"Understanding that you give me full credit, " her associate told her, his lips close to her ear. 

"I ain't sure but what I'd better hide you till night, " the landlordinformed Lida. "As I said, they're naturally genteel, but----" Hehesitated when he heard the growing grumble of voices. 

"I've got trouble enough in getting away without taking you on for anextra load, " was Crowley's rough repudiation of Lida. "You havedouble-crossed----"

"I'll accept your opinion as an expert in that line, " she said, lashingher courage back to meet the situation. "I am not asking any favors fromVose-Mern or their operatives. Nor from you, " she informed the landlord. 

She settled Ward's cap and jacket more securely in the clutch of herarms. "Unbar and open the door, if you please, Mr. Brophy. "

He demurred. 

"It's the door of a public inn. You must open it. "

He obeyed, standing ready to repel intruders. 

She walked straight out and through the crowd of hostile natives, whoparted to allow her to pass; her chin was up and her eyes were level inmeeting the gaze of any man who stared at her. 

She had made up her mind where she was going, and the thought of thatintended destination put some of the spirit of old Echford Flagg in her. 

When she was free from the crowd she began to run; instinct of thehoming sort impelled her to hasten. She had not settled in her mind whatshe would say or do when she got there, but there seemed to be no otherplace in all the world for her right then except the big house on theledges. 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Lida did not wait to be admitted to her grandfather's house in theconventional manner; she did not dare to test her new resolution by apause on the steps, and she was afraid that Rickety Dick would enforcethe Flagg injunction against a woman. 

Gasping for breath after her run across the ledges, she flung herselfinto the presence of her grandfather. 

Dick was holding a flaming splint of wood to the bowl of Flagg's pipe. Startled, he dropped the splint, and the fire burned out unheeded on thebare floor. 

She held on to the cap and the jacket and with her free hand she beatupon her breast and tried to pour out a confession of her part in themischief which had been done. She could not tell Flagg who she was; shewas telling him what she was. She made herself a part of the Vose-Mernconspiracy; that seemed to be the best way. She did not try to makeherself better than her associates; she admitted that she was anoperative; in no other way could she account for her presence in thenorth country; and the old man's keen eyes warned her that a lessplausible statement would endanger her secret. Therefore, she arraignedherself bitterly as the cause of Latisan's undoing, and to explain hernew attitude she pleaded love and resulting repentance. There seemed tobe no other way of giving Flagg a good reason why she was interested inspeeding the fortunes of Latisan and the Flagg drive. 

She began to babble rather incoherently. His silence troubled her. Hisgaze was intent. 

After a time, allowing her to talk on, he ordered Dick to bring morefire for the pipe, and then he puffed and listened a little longer. 

At last he jabbed his pipe stem toward the door, and Dick obeyed thesilent command and left the room. 

"Now, my girl, hold up a moment and get your breath. Sit down!" Sheobeyed. 

"I see that you're hanging on to Latisan's cap and jacket. Did he pullhimself out of the jacket whilst you were clinging to his collar?" Inspite of the seriousness of the news which she had brought to him, therewas a touch of dry humor in his tone. "He must have had a prettydesperate change of heart to run away from such a girl, after what hetold me of his feelings this morning. "

He talked on, allowing her to recover. "Your words have been tumblingalong like logs coming down the Hulling Machine Falls, but I reckon Iunderstand that a detective agency sent you up here to Delilah mySamson. I've just been reading about that case in the Old Testament. Andyou're sorry, eh? It's a start in the right direction--being sorry. Hetold me this morning that he was going back to the drive in spite ofme--he said it was because you had torched him on to do so. I'll admit Ihaven't got over being thankful to you for that help. And now it's alltipped upside down, eh? I'm not surprised. It's the Latisan nature toblow up! I knew his grandfather well--and I remember! We seem to havemade a bad mess of it, you and I. I'll own to it that I haven't beencareful in the management of my tongue where he's concerned. If I had, all the girls this side o' Tophet couldn't have made him jump his job inthis style. You see, I'm willing to admit my mistake, and that makes mefeel kinder toward you, now that you admit yours. "

Her courage was coming back to her. Only a veritable frenzy of despairhad forced her into the presence of that old man who had declared hisunalterable hostility to her and hers. She found him singularly andsurprisingly mild in this crisis. Wreathed in the tobacco smoke, hiscountenance was full of sympathy. It was an amazing alteration inEchford Flagg, so those who knew him would have stated, had they beenthere to behold. 

"I suppose you have to slap on a lot of deceit in that detectivebusiness. "

"I'm done with deceit. I've left that work forever. "

"So I reckoned whilst I looked at you and heard you talk. I've got quitean eye for a change of heart in persons. I hate to see young folks introuble. 'Most always I'm pretty hard on people. I've grown to be thatway. Had good reasons! But you seem to have caught me to-day in adifferent frame of mind. I didn't get a good look at you last evening. I've just been telling myself that you remind me very much of somebody Iused to know. There was a time, " he went on, wrinkling his forehead, "when I would have ordered you out of this house, simply on your looks. But to-day, somehow, I like to keep my eyes on you. Old age has a lot ofwhims, you know. "

She did not venture to speak. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. 

"It's too bad, sis! Too bad! 'Tis a tough thing to work out, thisLatisan matter. You have started the old John devil a-roaring in him!And I reckon that now you're falling in love with the fool, even if youdid come up-country to do something mean to him!"

She nodded; her emotions were too deeply stirred to permit evasion ormore deceit. 

"I have to depend on hired help, sis. And the trouble with any otherdrive master than Latisan is that the opposition crowd can hire awaywhat Latisan wouldn't sell--I'll say that for the boy! It's a matter ofprinciple with him--this fight for the independents. "

"But your men will keep on working, won't they, sir?"

"They'll work--yes! But they won't fight without Latisan to lead 'em. That's why the Three C's folks are so hot on the trail of one man. They're going to trig my drive at the Skulltree dam unless we arethrough ahead of 'em. Conservation of water, that's what they will callit when they make their play for a court order, " he snarled. "But it'sonly devilish theft of the rights I hold in common--and that's wherelawyers have their chance to argue, when rights are common. " He foundhimself becoming garrulous in his emotion. He frowned. "But why talksuch matters to you; you can't understand!"

"No, " she admitted, sadly. "I haven't any knowledge about drives. I canonly understand that through me a great mischief has been done. "

"Well, it might have been worse for young Latisan if they hadn't got ridof him by this underhand way. Now that he has quit and has gonelarruping off on his own hook, you may as well get what comfort out ofit you can, " he said, trying to ameliorate her distress. "There's notelling what they might have been savage enough to do to him if he hadstayed to make the fight as he intended to make it. "

"Do you give up the fight?"

With the left hand he lifted his helpless right arm across his knees. "It's a two-fisted proposition this year. I guess I'm licked. They'llbuy in my logs at what price they have a mind to pay and will turn 'eminto paper. The sawmills will have to shut down, and the chap who wantsto build a home will keep on cussing the price of lumber. I have made agood try of it, sis, but the big combinations are bound to have theirway in the end. "

"It isn't right for anybody to have his own way without giving the otherman a square deal, " she cried, adding, with bitterness, "though I'm thelast person entitled to preach on that subject. "

"It's all in the way of progress, so the syndicate fellows tell us, " heremarked, dryly. "Maybe they know. Whilst they're grabbing in all themoney, they may be getting control of all the brains, too. "

She flung up her arms and accused herself, passionately: "I have been afool. I'd give my very heart to make matters right again!"

"I think so, " he admitted. "I reckon you're in earnest. "

Again his fixed, appraising stare was disturbing her. 

"About Mr. Latisan----" she hurried on. "I can't believe that he'll stayaway long. "

"I guess you know as little about the ways of men up here as you knowabout the drives, my girl. There's plenty of iron in their natures, butthere isn't much brass in their cheeks. He's done--he can't face the BigLaugh. He's seen what it has done to others. But you city folks don'tunderstand woods ways and notions!"

She set her firm teeth over her lower lip to control its quivering. Thenshe ventured. It was a resolve born out of her desperate desire toredeem, if she were able. There was one thing she could do--it seemed anatural thing to do, in that extremity. 

"I have something to ask of you. Please don't be angry! I'm trying tosquare myself!"

"Go ahead! I'm ready now to be pretty easy natured when somebody isreally in earnest about helping me. "

"Give me your permission to go north and explain to your men why Mr. Latisan isn't on the drive! I'll tell them everything. I'll open my soulto those men. They'll understand. "

"It's not a girl's job, " he declared, sternly. 

"I have been trained in a hard school, sir. I have been forced to studymen and to deal with men. I have been sorry because I have been obligedto do the things I have done. But my knowledge of men may help youraffairs. I am glad I have been through my trials. Let me go north toyour crews! I beg it of you!"

"I don't want to have you messing into any such business. There'ssomething about you--something that makes me want to put a safeguardover you, sis, instead of sending you into danger. "

"You'll make the danger worse for me if you don't give me thatpermission--a word from you to them that I'm your agent. " She arose, flaming with her resolution. "I am going anyway, sir! You can't stop mefrom going where I will in the woods. "

"You're right!" he admitted, sadly. "I'm so old and helpless that Ican't even boss a girl. "

She stood in front of him and put Latisan's cap on her head; she pulledon the belted jacket. "They'll know this jacket and cap! I'll tell thestory! Do you think it is folly? No! I can see in your face that youknow what those men will do!"

"Yes, I do know! I have been a woodsman in my time, too! After they havelistened to you they'll hammer hell out of anything that gets in frontof 'em. "

His face lighted up. He beamed on her. "I told you that old age has itswhims. A minute ago a whim made me want to keep you away from trouble. Now, by the gods! the same whim makes me want to send you north. Youwill stand for Eck Flagg, saying what he'd like to say to his men! Theright spirit is in you! I ain't afraid that you won't make good!"

He pointed to an object on the wall of the room. It was a stout staffof ash tipped with a steel nose and provided with a hook of steel; itwas the Flagg cant dog. The ash staff was banded with faded red stripesand there was a queer figure carved on the wood. 

"Lift it down and bring it here and lay it across my knees, " hecommanded. 

She ran and brought it. 

"They know that stick along the Noda waters, " he told her, caressing thestaff with his hale hand. "I carried it at the head of the drive formany a year, my girl. You won't need letters of introduction if you gonorth with that stick in your hand. I would never give it into the handsof a man. It has propped the edge of my shelter tent, to keep the springsnow off my face when I caught a few winks of sleep; that steel dog hasrattled nigh my ear when I couldn't afford to sleep and kept walking. Tell 'em your story, with that stick in your hand when you tell it! Takeit and stand up in front of me!"

Her face was white; she trembled when she lifted the staff from hisknees. 

An old man's whim! The girl believed that she understood better than hethe instinct which was prompting him to deliver over the scepter whichhe had treasured for so long. 

And some sort of instinct, trickling in the blood from that rivermanforebear, prompted her strike a pose, which brought a yelp of admirationfrom the old man. She had set the steel nose close to her right foot andpropped the staff, with right arm fully extended, swinging the stickwith a man-fashion sweep. 

"Sis, where did ye learn the twist of the Flagg wrist when ye set thatstaff?" It was a compliment rather than a question, and the girl did notreply. She was not able to speak; a sob was choking her. Her grip onthat badge of the family authority thrilled her; here was the last ofher kin; he was intrusting to her, as his sole dependence, the missionof saving his pride and his fortunes. Her tear-wet eyes pledged him herdevoted loyalty. 

"God bless you!" he said. 

"And may God help me, " she added fervently. Impulse was irresistible. She succumbed. She dropped the staff and ran to the old man and threwher arms convulsively about his neck and kissed him. 

"I'm sorry, " she faltered, stepping back. "I'm afraid I startled you. "

"No, " he told her, after a moment of reflection, "I guess I ratherexpected you'd do that before you went away. Some more of that whim, maybe! When do you think of leaving?"

"I'd like to go at once. I cannot stay any longer in this village. "

"You'd best get to my drivers as soon as the Three C's slander does. "

He shouted at a door and old Dick appeared. 

"Move spry now!" commanded the master. "Have Jeff hitch the big baysinto the jumper. And Jeff will be able to tend and do for me whilstyou're away. For here's the job I'm sending you on. Take this youngwoman north to the drive. She's tending to some business for me. See toit that she's taken good care of. And bring her back when she feelsthat she's ready to come. "

"Am I to come here--back to your house to-to----" she faltered. 

"To report? Of course you are!" He was suddenly curt and cold after hissoftness of the moment before. He looked as if he were impatient for herto be gone. 

"Have Dick stop at the tavern for your belongings. "

"There's only a small bag, sir. "

"If you're short of clothes--well, I advise you to wear Latisan's capand jacket. They'll keep you warm--and they'll keep you--reminded!" Heput much meaning in his emphasis of the last word. 

She bowed her head humbly; the clutch at her throat would not permit herto reply to him. Then, bearing with her the Flagg scepter, she went outto where the horses were being put to the jumper. 

When he was alone the old man laid his hand on the Bible at his side. For a long time he gazed straight ahead, deep in his ponderings. Then heopened the volume and leaved the pages until he came to the familyregister, midway in the book. After the New England custom, there wereinscribed in faded ink the names of the Flaggs who had been born, thenames of those who had died, the records of the marriages. EchfordFlagg's father had begun the register; the son had continued it. Acrossthe marriage record of Alfred Kennard and Sylvia Flagg were rudepenstrokes. On the page of births was the name of Lida Kennard, and heslowly ran his finger under it. When he gazed down at the floor again inmeditation he met the stare of the cat that Rickety Dick loved andpetted. 

The cat was bestowing no friendly look on Flagg. He had often cuffed herwhenever she ventured to leap into his lap. He had repulsed the cat ashe repelled human beings who had sought to make up to him. Now he calledto her softly, inviting her with his hand. She backed away withapprehensive haste. 

"I'm starting late, pussy, " he muttered. "And I was never much of a handat coaxing anybody to come to me. But I wish you'd hop up here on myknee. Come, kitty! Please come!"

It was a long time before he was able to gain her confidence. He heardthe big bays go trampling away down the ledges. At last the cat camecautiously, climbing up his leg, and sat on his knees and stared up athis face in a questioning way. 

"She's too much like her mother for me not to know her--like her motherlooked when she went away, " he informed the cat. "I reckon I'm a wholelot different right now than I ever was before. I'm old and sick--andI'm different. I don't blame you for looking hard at me, kitty. I'm solonesome that I'm glad to have a cat to talk to. She's got her mother'slooks--and the Flagg grit. She wants to do it her own way--like I'd wantto do it my way, without being bothered. And I'm letting her do it. Itwouldn't be a square deal if I didn't let her. And she'll do it! It's inher! She's trying to pay back. It's the style of the Flaggs. She didn'tcome up here to smash me or Latisan. I didn't believe what she said--aFlagg knows when another Flagg is lying. She came to help--and she'lldo it yet! She's Lida, kitty, Lida!" His tone caressed the name. Hishand caressed the written name. 

Then he turned the pages slowly, going forward in the volume--to the NewTestament. 

And after a time he found words which fitted his new mood and he readaloud to his feline auditor. 

"'Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evilspeaking, be put away from you, with all malice: and be ye kind to oneanother, tenderhearted, forgiving one another----'"

Jeff, the servitor, hearing the mumble of the old man's voice, tiptoedto the door and peeped in. He goggled at the tableau and listened to thewords. He was in the state of mind of that oft-quoted doubter who spaton the giraffe's hoof and remarked to the bystanders, "Hell! There ain'tno such animile!"

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Brophy was distinctly inhospitable when Lida walked into the tavern. 

She curtly stated her errand as she passed him on her way to the stairs, and when she returned with her bag he allowed her to leave withoutopening his mouth. She took the money he offered and put it in herpocket without counting it. 

The men who were about the place were silent, too. The fact that Flaggwas sending her away in his own hitch stirred their curiosity and hadconsiderable to do with keeping their rude tongues off a person who hadevidently come to an understanding with the master of the big house. 

"Where are ye headed, Dick?" asked a bystander while the girl was in thetavern. 

"Up and down, " stated the old man, cryptically. 

"Well, if you want to overtake them chums of hers you'll have to lay onthe braid pretty smart! If they kept on going at the rate they startedoff they're halfway to the junction by now. "

When the girl was in her seat Dick sent the bays along at a sharp clipdown the highway by which Crowley and his companion had departed. 

Lida had conferred with Dick on the way down from the big house and haddecided on a bit of guile to divert the attention of the gossips ofAdonia from her real objective. According to all appearances she was infull flight toward the city, or else was chasing up Ward Latisan; thecynics, after that affair in the street when she had pleaded with theyoung man, opined that she was brazen enough to do almost anything thata girl should not. 

Brophy watched her out of sight. 

"If it ain't one thing it's another with these table girls, " was hissour comment. "I don't know what I'm liable to draw next; the Queen ofSheby, maybe!"

When a hill shut off the view from Adonia the bays swung into a sidelane which connected with the tote road leading north along the Nodawaters. 

A girl who wore for her armor Latisan's jacket and his cap, and carriedas credentials the woods baton of the last of the independent timberbarons of the Noda, was hastening on her mission with the same sort offervent zeal that made Joan of Arc a conqueror. 

Family fealty, the eager desire to right in some measure the wrong doneby her father, anxious determination to repair her own fault--all thesewere animating impulses in this Joan of the Northland. But nowespecially was she aware that she was seeking by service to absolveherself in the estimation of a poor chap whose love for her had made himforget his duty. 

There was no talk between the girl and her charioteer. She had plenty ofthought to occupy her, and he drove on with his gaze straight betweenthe ears of the nigh horse. 

The road was crooked; when she glanced behind, the woods seemed to beshutting doors on her, closing out the world with which she had beenfamiliar; and ahead, as the road turned, she was looking into vistaswhich led to the unknown--to a duty of tremendous import--to a taskwhich seemed too great for a girl to accomplish. One knowledge comfortedher--it was a knowledge which came from her childhood memories--shecould trust those rough men of the woods to treat a girl with respect ifshe deserved it; but would she be able to convince them that the girlwho wrought such mischief to Ward Latisan deserved respect? They might, as her grandfather said, ridicule a man who had been fooled by a girl, if that man appeared to them and tried to make good his authority; butthere would be no laugh in the north country behind Latisan's back, nowthat he had fled desperately from the wreck of his prospects. 

She perceived only silent rebuke, even resentment, in Dick's countenancewhen she stole glances at the hard profile above the old man's knittedscarf. It was plain that he did not relish his job. She wondered whetherhe believed that her errand was useless. When, after a time, she triedto draw some opinion out of him he gave her no replies that aided her. 

She felt acutely that she needed sympathy--something for herencouragement. The old man's taciturnity hinted that he could be trustedwith a secret so far as outsiders were concerned; as to Flagg, she wasnot sure of Dick's reliability in keeping anything away from a master towhom he was devoted. But if the old man were kept away from Adonia----

"Do I understand that you're to stay north until I'm ready to go back?"

"I've got to. It's orders. "

She was choking with the desire to tell him who she was. The lie whichshe had told him in the tavern was a rankling memory--he had been such apitiful figure that day. 

Again she looked behind. There were many miles between her and Adonia, and the doors of the woods kept closing. 

"I need all your help in this thing. I must have a faithful friend. Itis the one great effort of my life. You can understand so well! I--I_am_ Lida Kennard!"

Rickety Dick threw up his arms. The reins fell from his hands. "Praisethe Lord!" he yelled. The discarded reins slapped the big bays, theshout in that silence caused them to leap wildly. The tote road wasrough and rocky and the equipage was light. Almost instantly the horsestore the tongue from the jumper, which was trigged by a bowlder. Theanimals crashed around in a circle through the underbrush, leaped intothe tote road, and went galloping back toward Adonia, seeking theirstalls and safety. 

Dick rose from where he had fallen and rushed to the girl, who wasclinging to the seat of the jumper. He took her in his arms, comfortingher as he would have soothed a child. He wept frankly and babbledincoherently. A part of his emotion was concern for her, but moreespecially was it joy because she had discovered herself to him. 

"It was in me--the hope that it was you. But I buried it; I buried it, "he sobbed. 

For some moments he was too much absorbed to note the plight in whichthey had been left. Then his laments were so violent that the girl wasobliged to soothe him in her turn. 

"But when those horses rush into the yard! Think of it! He'll cal'latewe're killed. Him penned there in his chair with worry tearing at him! Imust get the word to him. " In his frantic care for the master's peace ofmind he ran away down the road, forgetting that he was abandoning thegirl. 

But in a few moments he came running back to her. "That's the way italways is with me! Him first! But after this it's you--and I was leavingyou here in the lurch. But I don't know what to do!" He looked at her, then at the broken jumper; he gazed to the north and he stared to thesouth; in that emergency, his emotions stressed by what she had toldhim, he was as helpless as a child. 

Her own concern just then was for her grandfather as well as forherself. Those runaway horses appearing in the yard would rouse hisbitter fear; they would also start a hue and cry which would follow herinto the north country. 

"You must go back, at once!" she urged Dick. "Follow as fast as you can. The horses will quiet down; they'll walk. You may overtake them. Youmust try. "

"But you!" he mourned. 

She lifted the cant dog from the floor of the jumper. "I shall keep ontoward the drive--somehow--some way. This will protect me; I'm sure ofit. "

He puckered his face and shook his head and expressed his fears and hisdoubts. 

"Then I'm showing more faith than you in what this stands for, " shesaid, rebukingly. "I believe in it. I trust to it. Haven't you the samekind of loyalty where my grandfather is concerned--after all your yearswith him?"

She had appealed to zealous, unquestioning devotion, and it replied toher. "I reckon you're right. It wouldn't be showing proper respect if Ididn't meet you halfway in the thing. " He reached out his hand andpatted the staff. "I'm only a poor old bent stick beside that one. Ieven let the horses run away. Yes, they have run away--and now it's allthe long miles to the drive! How'll ye ever get there, Miss Lida?"

"By starting!" she returned, crisply, with something of Flagg's manner. 

"There are tote teams going north. Anybody'll be glad to give you alift. There are bateaus above here, ferrying supplies up the broadwater, and you may see a canoeman----" He was wistfully grabbing athopes. 

"I'm not afraid, " she assured him bravely. 

He helped her with advice while he busied himself by hooking the handleof her bag over the staff; she carried it across her shoulder and hadsomething cheerful to say about poverty making light luggage. 

In that fashion she fared toward the north, after she had forced apledge from the old man that he would keep her secret until her work wasdone; she was guilelessly unaware that Flagg's perspicacity hadpenetrated her secret. 

Dick plodded toward the south. 

There, in the midst of the forest, dwarfed by the big trees, theyseemed to be weak reeds for the support of the Flagg fortunes. 

Before a bend of the road shut them from sight of each other they turnedand waved a farewell which renewed the pledge. 

CHAPTER TWENTY

For a time Lida felt unutterably and miserably lonely and helpless. Shehad stepped out of everything that was familiar in the way of humancontact and environment; she was facing the new, the untried, somethingthat was not a woman's job, as her grandfather had declared. 

But it was a job for that one of the Flaggs who still had the grit andthe strength to perform it!

With that thought came her reaction. She began to realize that as longas Dick had been her companion, her guardian, she had not been consciousof the real exaltation of determination which now glowed in her. Shefelt courage born of sacred zeal. She was alone, but no longer did thatthought trouble her. Because she was alone it was up to her! She walkedon with a steadier stride. If she appeared at the drive under the convoyof old Dick she was only a girl sent to whine a confession of fault andto wheedle men to help her repair it. Would it not be well to take thosemen fully into her confidence? She was resolved to tell them that sheloved Ward Latisan; she was admitting this truth to herself and she wasin a mood to tell all the truth to honest men who would be able tounderstand. She was going north to inspire faith and courage andloyalty. Would not the known granddaughter of Echford Flagg be able toexert that compelling moral influence over the crew? Those men wereprimitive enough to understand the urge of honest love of woman for aman; and there was the spirit of chivalrous romance in the northcountry. She knew it. 

Her heart was bolder as she walked on, but her feet ached and the roughroad wearied her. She met no human being; she sat for a time on awayside bowlder, hoping that some straggling tote team would come upfrom the south and overtake her. 

The road snaked along in the Noda Valley, and from time to time she wasclose to the turbid flood which swept down ice cakes and flotsam. Fromher bowlder she could see a broad and calm stretch--a deadwater of whichshe did not know the name. 

Then, close to the shore where she waited, came a canoe headed upriver. Two men were in it, paddling sturdily, taking advantage of eddies andbackwash. Fresh from the city as she was, she felt a thrill of suddenterror; the men were Indians and wore the full regalia of tribal dress. 

As a child she had seen and remembered well the Tarratines of theregion; they had been dressed like other woodsmen. These Indians withfeathers and beads put a strange fear into her in that solitude. Sheslid from the rock and crouched behind it. She grasped the staff of thecant dog more firmly; it was her only weapon of defense. But when herfingers felt the depressions of the totem mark she turned from terror tohope. Latisan, at their first meeting, had referred to the status ofEchford Flagg among the Tarratines. Courage was back in her again, alongwith her new hope. She leaped to her feet and called to the Indians andflourished a salute. They hesitated a moment, then drove their craft tothe shore a pebble toss away from her. 

She did not speak to them--she held the staff so that the emblem wasshown to them. They disembarked, approached slowly, peered at the totem, and saluted with upraised palms. 

"I have the right to carry it, " she told them. "It is Echford Flagg's. He gave it into my hands. He said it is known along the river and willhelp me. I want to go north to his drive. He has sent me. It is on hisbusiness!"

She received no immediate encouragement from their manner; they lookedat each other and turned their gaze again to her. 

"Frank Orono, " said one, patting his hand on his beaded breast. "Himbrother, Louis Orono. "

"The drive is up there. If you're going only a little way in thatdirection won't you take me along in your canoe?" she pleaded, confessing, "I'm so tired. There was an accident to the team--I've hadto walk. "

"You see!" said Frank Orono, stroking his hand over the feathers of hisheaddress. "Big time for tribe. All dressed up. Him, me, we go to OlamonIsland. Governor live there--Chief Susep Nicola. His girl she marryto-night. Big time!" He grinned. That evidence of human feeling in thecountenance which had been so impassive heartened the girl. 

"And if I can get as far as Olamon with you----"

They ducked their heads in permission. 

"Maybe Chief Susep send you on. Chief he much like him!" Frank Oronopointed to the staff. "Chief cut in totem sign, his own hands. You come. Be all right. "

They spread a blanket for her in the middle of the canoe and paddled on. 

It was then past midafternoon of her crowded day. 

When at last they swung around a wooded point and beheld the Indianvillage of Olamon the dusk was deepening. Many lights twinkled and ahuge bonfire waved flaming tongues. 

"Big time!" chuckled Frank Orono. "Pretty girl--nice feller she marry. Chief be glad to see you--you tell him!"

Those who were gathered at the pull-out place surveyed her withcuriosity. The bonfire lighted the scene and many were able to see thetotem mark on the staff of the cant dog. Those saluted her respectfullyand passed the word to others, who came crowding about. 

Therefore, when the brothers Orono escorted her into the presence ofSachem Nicola, Lida entertained the confidence of one who was amongfriends. The chief--or rather, the elected governor of the tribe--dweltin a modest cottage, and with him was the priest who had come for thewedding ceremony. It was the priest who displayed the liveliest interestin the girl and he promptly began to seek the reason that had broughther north with that emblem of authority. He questioned her withkindness, but with much vigor. 

But Susep Nicola asked no questions. He seemed to accept her presence asa quite natural thing. A Tarratine never puts a question to a guest; theguest may explain or state his business in his own good time. Thesachem set a chair for her and relieved her of the staff and her bag. Heput his finger on the emblem and smiled. There was inquiry in his eyeswhether she knew and understood. She bowed her head. 

As best she could she parried the questions of the inquisitive priestwithout making it appear that she was trying to hide anything. "It's anerrand, and Mr. Flagg was kind enough to loan the staff as my token inthese parts. You know he is ill and cannot go about any more. He mustleave certain things to others. "

"Well, " admitted the priest, plainly struggling with a hankering to askher bluntly what service a girl could perform for Flagg on the drive, "the ladies in these days are into all the affairs of men as well as onthe juries, so we must consider it as quite natural that you have beensent up here by Mr. Flagg. At any rate, we should be grateful that youare here, " he declared, gallantly. 

"It's on account of the accident to my team that I'm forced to intrudeat a time like this, " she apologized to Nicola. He was an old man, gauntand bowed, and his festal trappings seemed rather incongruousdecorations. 

"But you bring my brother's staff, and it makes you welcome for yourselfand stands for him because he cannot come. "

He called, and a woman appeared. He gave directions, and the womanoffered to conduct Lida to a room in the cottage. 

"You are honored guest, " said the governor. "In an hour the weddingtakes place in the church, and then the wedding supper!"

"To which I beg permission to escort you, " said the priest, bowing lowas Lida went from the room. 

She laid off her woods panoply of cap and jacket and made herself fitfor the festival to such an extent as her scanty wardrobe would permit. 

Before the wedding procession started for the church she was presentedto the bride, Nicola's youngest daughter. The woman who had shown Lidato her room had gossiped a bit. The bride was the fruit of thegovernor's second marriage and had inherited her French Canadianmother's beauty. And the groom was a French Canadian, a strapping chap, a riverman of repute. 

Lida was told that the men of the river, the jacks of the driving crewsfar and near, were making much of the wedding on account of their likingfor Felix Lapierre. She had looked from her window and had seen bateauscome sweeping down, loaded with shouting men, the oars flashing in thelight of torches set in the bows of the big boats. She felt moreconfident in regard to the morrow; those bateaus would be going back tothe north and she had determined to make her plea for passage. In heranxiety the halt for the night was irksome. But she concealed herfeelings and took her place in the procession, a post of honor that wasdeferentially assigned to her by the chief. 

The flares of moving torches lighted all and the smoke from them waveredabove the plumes of the festal costumes and spread the illuminationamong the swaying boughs of the spruces and the pines. 

An Indian brass band of pretensions rather more than modest led the waytoward the church. The rear guard was made of rivermen who marched inragged formation, scuffling, elbowing one another, shouting jokes, making merry after their manner. Their boots, spurred with drivers'spikes, crunched into the hard earth and occasionally struck fire froman outcropping of ledge. They pulled off those boots at the door of thechurch and went into the place, tiptoeing in their stocking feet. 

So Alice and Felix were joined in marriage. 

Lida sat beside the girl's mother during the ceremony. 

The tears that are shed by womankind at weddings form a baptism forsentiments which cannot be easily translated into exact understanding. It had begun to seem very far away in time and space, that tragedy ofthe morning in Adonia, that wreck of a man's love, and the blasting ofwhat Lida had admitted to herself was her own fond hope. Now, in thisscene, hearing the words which gave lovers the sacred right to face theworld hand in hand, her own grievous case came back to her in poignantclearness. She wept frankly; there had been honest tears in the mother'seyes. The two looked at each other and then the mother's hand slid intothe girl's and mutely expressed for the stranger what could not be putinto words. There were no questions and no replies--the situationrequired none. 

For the more casual guests, the rivermen and others, the supper wasspread out of doors near the water. It was a simple feast which had beencooked over coals in the open. 

The sachem's party ate in a large room; by day it served the women ofthe tribe as a workshop. The walls were gay with the handicraft whichhad been hung up to clear a space for the tables. There were braided orwoven baskets of all sizes and every hue; there were beaded skins andfrippery of feathered gewgaws and moccasins and miniature canoes andplaques of birch, hand carved. And subordinating all else, even thescents and savors of the food, was the perfume of the sweet grass. 

Outdoors, in a circle of torches, the band played merry airs. 

"You should not be sad, mam'selle, " reproved Father Leroque, who hadconstituted himself Lida's squire at supper. "This is a very merryoccasion. "

"I feel all the more as if I were intruding--bringing my troubles here. "

The chatter of many voices made a shield for conversation between thetwo. The priest hesitated for some time; then he made sure that nobodywas listening and leaned closer to her. 

"I beg your pardon, mam'selle, if I seem presumptuous in touching on amatter regarding which you have not given me your confidence. I may beallowed to mention a bit of news. It came to me just before we sat downto supper. News travels fast in this region, you may know. From mouth tomouth it flies. Bateaus have come up the river, and the men of thosebateaus have listened to timber cruisers and have heard from thedrivers of tote teams who have come scattering through the woods below. There is the news of an engagement. I trust I may be allowed to speak ofthe news to you because it is my thought that you are the young ladyconcerned. "

She was not able to reply. 

"And there is more news, " he persisted. "Pardon me if I mention that, too. It is my province to console those who are in trouble, as best Imay. Perhaps there is some way in which I can help you. I think highlyof young Latisan. I know him because my duties have taken me into theTomah region. There has been trouble between you and him--amisunderstanding. Is there any way in which I can be a mediator--as hisfriend?"

"He has gone away, " she choked. "I don't know where he is. It was myfault. If I could have explained, it might have helped, but he would notwait to hear me through. "

The priest's gentleness had conquered her resolution to keep her secrettill she reached the men of the Flagg drive. He perceived her bitterneed of sympathy. 

"I respect confidences, even those given me outside the pale of mychurch's confessional. Young Latisan is like his grandfather--tinder fora stray spark. If I know your fault--if I can tell him, when I see him, what you would have liked to tell him----"

Hurriedly, in low tones, stammering in her eagerness, she did reveal whoshe was, what she had tried to do, and what she hoped to be able to do. 

He was instantly alive to her cause with all the sympathy that was inhim--an especially sincere sympathy because as a missionary priest hewas close to the hearts of all the folk of the north country, probingtheir affairs with an innocent but vivid interest and striving always toaid with earnest zeal. 

Though Lida had parried his questions at first, protecting her secret, she was now grateful because he had persisted; his manner and his natureremoved him from the ranks of mere busybodies. A comforting sense arosefrom having confided in him. 

"In the Tomah I will find young Latisan; I am on my way across themountains, mam'selle. He must be awake and himself by now; he must havegone home. When I tell him the truth he will lift all the trouble fromyour shoulders. But till he comes you must be brave. And who knows? Youmay be able to smooth the path! If you plead your grandfather's cause uphere, I believe even the great Comas company will listen and be kind. There are many outside this door who have come down from the drives tohave a bit of fun at the wedding. There must be Flagg men. I will findout. "

"Let me go with you, " she urged, anxiously. 

He demurred. 

"But I'll not speak to them. If I can see them--only a few of them--thereal men of our drive--I believe I shall find courage to go on. "

She prevailed, though he was doubtful and warned her that the babblingof the new gossip might be embarrassing. 

And so it proved as Father Leroque feared; men perceived only thebeguilement of Ward Latisan and had heard only the sordid side of thehappenings in Adonia; the girl was glad because she was hid in the gloomoutside the circle of light that was the nimbus of the bonfire. Theywere laughing as they discussed a matter which had eclipsed the interestin the wedding. Her cheeks were hot and she was scarcely restrained bythe priest's monitory palm on her shoulder. 

Men were feasting and gossiping; they were herded around the fire, squatting Turk fashion, steaming pannikins on the ground by their sides, heaped plates on their knees. 

"Fifteen of us, " stated a man, answering a question. "And prob'ly moreto follow. Ben Kyle has gone up there in a hurry, grudge and all, and ishiring for the Comas. If there ain't going to be any fight we may aswell work for the Three C's. "

"Stay here!" commanded Father Leroque, patting the girl's arm. "Staywhere they can't see you. " He stepped forward into the firelight. "Do Iunderstand that the Flagg crew is breaking up?"

"Fifteen of us in this bunch, " restated the man, rapping his pannikin todislodge the tea leaves and holding it out for more of the beverage. "Wedding brought us down--the news we hear is going to keep us going. Flagg is done. "

"Yes, if his men desert him. You mustn't do it; it isn't square. "

The priest found it easy to locate the recreants among the otherrivermen; they shifted their eyes under his rebuking gaze. "Go back toyour work. Another will come in young Latisan's place. "

"All respect to you, Father! But we can't do it, " said the spokesman. "We're Latisan's men. The rest of the gang will laugh us out of the crewif we go back. "

"I'll have Latisan himself on the job inside of a few days, my men, "declared the priest, stoutly. 

He had promised to them another who would take the drive master's place;now he promised Latisan. The men were merely puzzled; they were notconvinced. 

"Will you go back?"

"We can't go back. " It was said with conviction, and a mumble of voicesindorsed him. "Still, all respect to you, Father! But Latisan won't fitany longer even if he does go back. He has let himself be goofered. "

Father Leroque had set up his temporary altar in many a lumber camp; heknew woodsmen; therefore, he knew that argument with those men would beidle. 

"You have heard, " he said to Lida when the two walked away deeper intothe shadows. "I'm sorry. But so the matter stands. "

"But if I go now and talk to them--confess to them----"

"They are Latisan's own men, and the story is fresh, and theirresentment is hot. You will not prevail, mam'selle. And if you failto-night with those men you risk failing with all. You must go on to thedrive--talk to the others who are still loyal. I fear much, I must warnyou, but I will not try to keep you from what seems to be your duty. Itwould be too great unhappiness for you if you should go back now, feeling that you had not done your best. "

The bandsmen had eaten of the wedding feast and were again valorouslymaking gay music outside the workshop building from whose windows pouredlight and laughter. 

"I can't go back in there--I can't!" sobbed Lida. "Right now I want tohide away. "

With gentle understanding the priest escorted her to the door of thesachem's cottage. "I will pray for you, that the morning may bring goodcourage again. I will talk with you then--in the morning. "

She stammered broken words of gratitude and escaped to the covert of thelittle room. 

Father Leroque went back to the wedding party and called the governorout into the night. For a long time the two conferred, walking to andfro under the big pines. 

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Sunrise was crystal clear, with frosty crispness, for April in thenorthern latitudes flirts long with Winter on his way to everlastingsnows. Lida saw the sun come quivering over the big trees and sat by herwindow, continuing the doleful ponderings which had made the night blackand dismal. There was no cheer for her in the morning radiance; as shefaced what was ahead of her, new fear grew in her; faith in herself waswaning after the defection of Latisan's men. Would Echford Flagg's owncrew stand by a stricken master or hearken to the appeal of Flagg's kin?

The rivermen guests had departed; there were no bateaus on the shore;faint smoke came wreathing from the black embers of the feast fire. 

Early as it was, there was the stir of life in the other rooms of thecottage, and she ventured forth timidly into the presence of thegovernor's family. The little mirror in her room had revealed to her thepallor of her face and the mournful anxiety in her eyes. 

There was no talk at breakfast; the family copied the manner of thegovernor, who had greeted Lida with a single word, gestured her to herchair, and now ate in silence. All his festal trappings had been laidaside; he was a grave, wrinkled man in the ordinary attire of awoodsman. In her new humility Lida wondered how she would summoncourage to ask for canoemen to take her north. The impulse to keep ontoward the drive was no longer so keen and courageous and absorbing, sherealized. She had dreamed vividly when she stood in the presence ofEchford Flagg; but she had begun to face practicality, and thedifficulties frightened her. 

Before the breakfast was finished, Father Leroque came in; he had lodgedin the quarters provided for his visits, a small room in the vestry. 

The sisters who taught the boys and girls of the community had broughthis food. But he sat at the elbow of the governor's wife and drank thecoffee that she poured for him. He was cheery, vivacious, and he smiledconsolingly on Lida, who was not able to return his morning optimism. His arrival broke the fetters of silence, and even Susep Nicola joinedin the chatter which the priest kept stirring. 

Lida kept her gaze on the floor and saw the broad shaft of sunlightshift slowly and relentlessly, marking the passage of precious time. 

"I must go, " she said, suddenly, looking into the countenance of Nicola. 

"Yes. "

"I'm afraid I ought to have been on my way before. "

"It's for you to say when you go; you are welcome here, " he returned. "Ihave waited for you to say. " It was according to his code ofhospitality--the guest must indicate desire. He rose. His wife broughtto Lida the jacket and the cap. But the chief picked up the Flagg cantdog and carried it when he led the way to the door. 

Father Leroque seemed to understand what was in Lida's mind just then. "You are worried about how you are to travel, is it not so? You do notneed to ask, mam'selle!" He bowed her to the door. 

In front of the sachem's house hung a broad disk of tanned moosehide ina frame. Nicola pounded on the makeshift gong with a mallet. Menassembled quickly in front of him, coming as if they had expected thesummons. 

"You know. I have told you, " said the chief. He stroked his hand overthe totem mark on the cant dog handle. "You know how our brother hasbeen the good friend of the Tarratines on this river. "

One step in advance of the others of the throng stood Felix Lapierre, the bridegroom. 

"How many?" asked the chief. 

"Twenty, " said Felix. "And all very much happy to do the good service. "

The priest smiled into the amazed eyes of the girl. "For yourconveyance? Ah no, mam'selle. For your good help on the drive. They arerivermen--the best. Felix Lapierre leads them and you shall see foryourself what a king of the white water he is. He will be yourright-hand man on the drive. It is all very fine, eh, mam'selle?"

She was staring from face to face, overwhelmed. She could not reply. 

"We talk it over--him and me--last night, " said Nicola, indicating thepriest by a respectful bow. "It's for my brother, and the blood of mybrother. " He bowed to her. 

"And all so very happy, " repeated Felix. His black eyes sparkled and heflung up his hands in the gay spirit of emprise. "You must not carebecause some have run away. They would not be good in a crew if theyfeel that way now. We feel good. We shall work for you; we are yourmen. "

The big matter, this astounding making good of her forces, this rallyingof volunteers in such chivalrous and unquestioning fashion--she foundherself unable to handle the situation in her thoughts or treat it withspoken words just then. But the other--the human thing----

"It's--it's the honeymoon, " she stammered. "It will be taking you awayfrom your wife. "

"She's my girl, " put in Nicola. "She tells him to go. "

Father Leroque perceived Lida's distressful inability to pull herselftogether at that moment, and he employed his ready tact, giving her timefor thought. "It's quite a natural thing, this taking away of the newbridegroom for the service of the Flaggs, " he declared with a chuckle. "There's even a song--I think it was written by Poet O'Gorman. Do youknow it, Felix? I can see by your grin that you do. Very well. Let'shave it. As I remember it, it states the case according to the Flaggmethods. "

Lapierre pulled off his cap; his eyes were alight with merriment; hesang gayly:

 The night that I was married--the night that I was wed-- Up there came old Echford Flagg and rapped on my bed head. Said he, "Arise, young married man, and come along with me, Where the waters of the Noda they do roar along so free. "

"You see!" suggested the priest, archly, smiling, palms spread. "WhenFlagg calls, the honeymoon must wait. It promises good adventure, andFelix would be sorry if he were not in it. "

Cap in hand, Lapierre swept his arm in a broad gesture of respectfuldevotion. It was a touch of gallantry which raised the affair above theprosaic details of mere business and which made the relations closerthan those of employer and employed. 

In Lida gratitude was succeeding amazement, and the glow of thatgratitude was warming her courage into life again. When she had steppedfrom Nicola's door a few moments before she felt bitterly alone andhelpless and she had no eye for the glory of the day. Suddenly thesunshine seemed transcendently cheery. All the aspects of the case werechanged. Now she could go on to the drive as one of the Flaggs shouldgo--with loyal men at her back to replace those who had deserted. Shecould hearten a broken crew with men, not merely with a strange girl'splaintive story and appeal. 

"We're ready, mam'selle, " said Felix. 

The women of the community were gathered in front of the sachem's house. 

Lapierre went smiling to his bride and put his arm about her; but whenhe started to draw her toward Lida the latter anticipated the coming byrunning to meet them. She took the little bride in her arms. 

The priest, Felix, and the governor swapped looks and nods whichindorsed an understanding that was wordless between the young women. 

When Lida turned from the governor's daughter she saw the governorhimself coming toward her. He held out the cant dog; it lay across hispalms and he tendered it respectfully. 

She winked the mist of tears from her eyes and struggled with ahysterical desire to babble many words. 

"Hush!" warned the priest. "We all know!"

There, in a golden silence, she realized how cheap and base was theclinking metal of speech that had been the currency of herself andothers in the crowded town. 

The river, slowed by the deadwater, was mute, though its foam streaksshowed where it had crashed through the gorges above. A few chickadeeschirruped bravely. There were no other sounds while the girl took theFlagg scepter in her own hands. 

She walked with Felix to the shore, where the flotilla of canoes layupturned at the pull-out place. Again the Oronos were assigned to her, and she was comforted much because they no longer seemed like strangers. 

"Au revoir!" called Father Leroque when the canoes were afloat on thebrown flood. "I'm making haste to the Tomah, mam'selle, to keep mypromise!"

He had already accomplished so much for her! In her new thanksgivingspirit she was finding it easy to believe that he could bring about whather self-acknowledged love for Latisan so earnestly desired. 

In single file, holding close to the shore, the canoes went toward thenorth. There was no talk between those who paddled; against the brownshore the canoes were merely moving smudges. 

Rufus Craig, coming down the middle of the deadwater in one of thegreat bateaus of the Comas company, paid no attention to the smudges. The bateau rode high and rapidly on the flood that moved down thechannel. Craig was writing in his notebook and four oarsmen were obeyinghis command to dip deep and pull strong. 

Craig had met Ben Kyle by appointment at the foot of the Oxbow portageand he had found Kyle to be particularly malevolent and entirelywilling--and Kyle had gone north to the Flagg drive in the pay of theThree C's. 

It had been a profitable interview, as Director Craig viewed it. 

Now he was chasing along the trail of rumor to Adonia; the rumor wasencouraging. If Latisan really had been pried out of the section, Craigsaw an opportunity to run back to New York to make a private settlementwith Mern and enjoy a little relaxation before the pressing matters ofthe drive in full swing claimed all his attention. Right then, accordingto all appearances, the Comas business up-country was doing very well inthe hands of the understrapper bosses. Therefore, Director Craig smiledover the pages of his notebook. 

The brown smudges in single file went on and on. Noon at the foot of theportage at Oxbow! Lida sniffed the wood smoke of the cook fire and ateher lunch and drank her tea. 

Up the narrow trail of the gorge she followed at the rear of her men;the canoes, upturned on their shoulders, glistened in the sparklingsunshine. She was bringing real aid in a time of stress, as one of theFlaggs should! More and more that consciousness heartened her. 

Quiet water at the put-in, then rapids where the canoes were poled, theirons clinking on the rocks over which the turbid waters rolled; morecalm stretches where haste was made. 

A night in the open at a camping site where a couch of boughs was piledfor her under a deftly contrived shelter of braided branches ofhemlocks. 

And on in the first flush of the morning toward the drive. 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Ben Kyle made "his bigness" when he went into Flagg's crew on hismission for Craig. He was not admitting to himself or anybody else thathe was traitor. He blustered and bullyragged; he had been their boss andhe had been fired without cause, he insisted. Even the loyal men did notpresume to answer back; he had been too recently their master and theaura of authority still persisted. He came with a white-hot grudge andwith rumors which he embroidered to suit his needs. Kyle had been far onthe edge of affairs, and only the ripples of the Adonia events reachedhim. But his statement that Latisan had run away with a girl seemed tobe certified by the drive master's continued absence. And there werethose stories of Latisan's former weakness in the city; they had beensleeping; they were not dead. 

Kyle was hiring for the Comas company--unabashed, blatantly. He strodefrom man to man, banging heavy palm on shoulders. "Come with the realfolks. What's old Eck Flagg to-day? You might as well be hired by abottle-sucking brat in a baby carriage. Where's Latisan? You tell me hismen went downriver to meet him; they've kept on going. He has hid away, dancing his doxy on his knee. Where's your pay coming from when EckFlagg goes broke?"

Kyle waded in the shallows where men were rolling logs, shouting to beheard above the roar of the waters. 

"We hired for a fight, " said the men who hated the Comas. "But itdoesn't look like one is going to be made. "

"We've always stood behind Eck Flagg, " said the old stand-bys of thecrew. "But we ain't getting a square chance for honest work. "

It was plain that the spirit was being beaten out of them under thehammer of Kyle's harangue--whether it was the adventurous spirit whichcraved fight or the honest spirit which had sent them north to the job. 

When the night came down, after they had cleaned their pannikins offood, steaming hot, from the cook's kettles, while they smoked aroundthe fire which drove away the evening chill, Kyle paced to and fro amongthe groups, declaiming, detracting, and urging. He knew that he wasprevailing, though slowly. Woodsmen in shifting their allegiance are notswayed by sudden impulse. His voice rang among the trees in the silenceof the evening. 

"Latisan is a sneak--Latisan is a runaway! Eck Flagg is next to a deadman!" Over and over he made those declarations, battering discouragementinto their slow comprehension in order to win them to the Comas company. "And Latisan has thrown down real men for the sake of a girl! Do youwant to get the Big Laugh when you show yourselves downriver?"

Voyagers who came from the southward, leaving their canoes below thefalls, moved silently, after the fashion of the Tarratines. They haltedon a shadowed slope within the range of Kyle's raucous voice, and Lidastepped forward to listen. The red flames lighted a circle among thetrees, and she beheld the seated groups and saw the swaggeringmalcontent who paced to and fro. 

"I'm with the Three C's now, first, last, and all the time! Their moneyis waiting for you, men. Come, with the real folks, I tell you!"

And again, with even more fantastic trimmings, he set forth the story ofLatisan's flight with a girl who had seduced him from his duty in thenorth. 

Lida snatched the Flagg cant dog from the hands of Felix; he had beenthe bearer of her scepter. He blinked when he looked at her. Thefar-flung light of the camp fire, reflected in her eyes, had setveritable torches there. Her lips were apart and her white teeth wereclenched and her face was ridged with resolution. 

There was no mistaking the intention which righteous anger had stirredin her, but when she started down the slope Felix leaped and ventured torestrain her with a touch on her arm. "Is it well to let the Comas knowthat you are here or what you are going to do? Pardon, mam'selle, butthink!"

"The lies! The lies!"

"Yes, mam'selle, but you can tell them the truth when he is not there tohear. "

"But now he is there, and I cannot go to the men. "

"In a little while you may go; he will not be there. And if he does notknow what is going on up here, after his back is turned, maybe we shallhave day after day to push our logs in ahead of all the others, "explained the riverman. "They will be days worth much. " Then with theimagery of his race he added, "Those days will be gold beads on ourrosary, mam'selle!" He smiled into her eyes, from which the fires weredeparting. "Please wait here with the the others. "

He whispered to several of the Indians; when he sauntered down the slopethe four summoned Tarratines stole to right and left, masking themselvesin the shadows, flanking the champion who was going alone. 

Most of the men of the crew recognized Felix Lapierre when he walkedinto the circle of light. They leaped up, surrounded him, their mouthsfull of hilarious congratulation, of excuses why they had not attendedthe wedding, of awkward jokes and questions. They could not understandwhy he had come north so soon. He shook his head, mildly refusing tosatisfy their curiosity. 

Kyle stood for a time; then he resumed his pacing. He no longer hadlisteners. Like children, the rivermen were wholly absorbed in a newtoy--a bridegroom who had so suddenly deserted the handsomest girlbetween Adonia and The Forks. 

"Oh, let him alone, " advised Kyle, whetting his new grouch. "If theyain't running away _with_ girls in this region, they're running away_from_ 'em!"

Felix swung around and faced the speaker. "Do you speak of me?" heasked, quietly. 

"Take it that way if you want to. "

"Your tongue seems to be very busy, I have that to say to you. From upthere on the hill I heard what you have to say about M'sieu Latisan, that he has run away with a girl. "

"And he has. "

"You lie!"

That retort snapped the trigger on Kyle's inflamed temper. "Youdamnation squaw man!" he yelped, and drove a blow at the FrenchCanadian; and Felix, following the fighting custom of his clan of theLaurentian Valley, ducked low, leaped high, and kicked Kyle under thehook of the jaw. It was the _coup à pied_. Kyle staggered and went down. When he struggled up and weakly attacked again, the antagonist met himface to face and smashed a stunning blow between Kyle's eyes; he felland remained on his back. 

"One for me, and one for my wife he has insult', " cried Felix. He spunaround, searching their faces. "Do any of you like to back him up?"

"Not on your life, " said a spokesman. "He doesn't belong in this crew. "

"I'm much oblige', " said Felix, politely. He whistled, and the fourIndians rushed out from the shadows. "If he is not of the crew, then ifhe goes away it does not matter. "

He commanded the Indians, and they lifted Kyle and started off with him. 

"He'll not be hurt, " Felix assured the men of the crew. "He'll go downthe river where it's better for him. "

Nobody offered protest. They were glad to be rid of that bellowing, insistent voice of the trouble-maker. 

Their attention was wholly engaged with the involuntary departure ofKyle, and they did not observe Lapierre when he walked away; they turnedto ask more questions, to be informed what this abduction signified, butFelix was nowhere to be seen. Men called but he did not reply. 

Babble of comment and argument! It was a picked fight--anybody could seethat. Why should Lapierre come north in the Flagg interests? Lapierrehad never worked in a Flagg crew. It was begun so suddenly and was endedso soon! A minute's flash of drama against the background of the night, into which they stared with searching eyes while they made clamor likequacking ducks that had been startled from sleep by a prowler! Curiositywas lashing them. They were wonted to their reckless adventure in thewhite water; it had become dull toil. This affair was something real inthe way of excitement, with a mystery which tantalized them. Again theycalled into the night, seeking an explanation. 

The prologue by which the Comas agent had been removed as tempter andtale-bearer had not been staged by Felix for calculated effect; he hadthought only of getting Kyle out of the way. But never was an audiencein more keenly receptive mood for a sequel than were those men whocrowded closely in the patch of camp-fire radiance and asked questionsof one another. 

To them when they were in that mood came one who made the drama morepoignant. They were hushed, they blinked uncertainly, they found itunreal, unbelievable. 

For here was a girl, far north at the head of the drive in the seasonof the roaring waters. She came slowly from the night and stood at theedge of the circle of light. She was wearing Latisan's jacket andcap--there was no mistaking the colors, the checkings and the stripes; adrive master needs to signal his whereabouts to a crew just as a firecaptain must make himself conspicuous by what he wears. 

They glanced at her garb, amazed by it. Then her face claimed all theirattention, for she said to them, her voice steady, her eyes meetingtheirs frankly, "I have overheard the talk a man has just made about agirl who coaxed Ward Latisan away from his work here. I am the girl. "

It seemed as if men had been holding their breath since her appearance;in the profound silence the exhalations of that breath could be heard. 

"But Ward Latisan did not run away with me from his duty. My being hereanswers that lie. And I have even a better answer--a reason why I wouldbe the last one in the world to interfere willingly with his work thisspring. " She stepped close to them, nearer the fire, so that they couldsee what she held forth, tightly clutched in both hands. "This isEchford Flagg's cant dog--he told me it would be known by all his men. He gave it into my keeping for a sign that he has sent me north. And Ihave a right to carry it. I am Lida Kennard. I am Echford Flagg'sgranddaughter. "

Behind her came crowding the Tarratines. 

"Men have deserted from your crew. Here are others to take theirplaces, " she announced with pride. 

She was dealing with men who were bashed by utter stupefaction; shenoted it and her self-reliance grew steadier. She drove the point of thecant dog into the soft duff with a manner after the heart of Flagghimself. She spread her freed hands to them in appeal. "I have come hereto tell you the truth. "

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Latisan had pitched the tune for that drive when he started it. 

It was a tune in quick tempo, with the staccato clangor of the kettledrums of the dynamite when he burst the icy sheathing of the waters inorder to dump the first logs in. 

When he was on the job the directing wand of his pick pole kepteverything jumping. 

Even when he was away for a few days his men toiled with the spirit thathe had left with them. They had adopted his cause and shared hisrighteous resentment against the tactics of the Three C's. 

They were able to work on without his guidance, after a fashion, but forthe fight that was ahead of them down the river they had depended on hiscaptainship. Therefore, Kyle with his scandals and reports and hisurging had been in a way to break down their morale. When theyreflected, they realized it. And it had been a wicked thing to face--theprospect that they might quit! With Latisan of the Latisans present withthem, pursuing an honest vengeance, there were lift and sweep and swingwhich made their toil an adventure rather than plain drudgery. 

Then that day when rumor and Kyle and Latisan's protracted absence hadnigh killed courage!

But then, the inspiring night which had brought the granddaughter ofEchford Flagg with her story, her confession, her plea, and her stillstrong faith in the awakening of Ward Latisan when he was able to knowthe truth! She did not gloss her own involuntary fault; she was frank inthe statement that she loved the man whom she had harmed by her mistake. She knew it was the truth; she took them into her confidence. Then therewas more than mere courage in the men of the drive--they were sharers inthe spirit of romance which put the dynamic zeal of fanatics behindthose logs. The girl's cause was linked with Latisan's and was acompelling force. 

 * * * * *

Like racing horses the Flagg timber rushed along, crowding the riverfrom side to side. 

The stream drives, breaking the bonds of the ice, had caught the toppitch of the floods and were hurled into the boiling rapids. 

But there was more than the mere thrust of the roaring waters behindthose tumbling logs. 

The Flagg drive had a soul that year!

It was what the Comas corporation lacked. 

Behind the Flagg logs were honest men, pityingly loyal--still toLatisan--and behind the toilers was a dominating spirit that was acombination of courage, wild enthusiasm, loyalty, and devotion in acampaign that now was entered upon with tempestuous fervor in thepresence of Lida Kennard. When that fervor went smashing against theThree C's crowd the men who were animated only by a corporation's wagesbecame cowards and stepped aside and gave the champions the right ofway. 

The slogan of Flagg men was, "Gangway for the girl!"

They had taken up her cause; they had enrolled themselves with a perfectabandon of all considerations of self; for them, getting down thattimber was merely a means to a much-desired end. 

They were recklessly determined to help the girl make good! That was theurgeful sentiment which their thoughts inscribed on the invisibleoriflamme of the warfare that was waged for the new Joan along thewaters of the Noda. 

It was not especially because she was the granddaughter of EchfordFlagg. His wages had never bought more than perfunctory service fromcrews. She was herself--and she had confessed her debts. 

When she told them why she was wearing Latisan's cap and jacket, whenshe owned to her error and laid the blame on herself, when she pleadedwith them to help her in undoing the bitter mischief, she won a devotionthat questioned nothing. 

"Men, he will come back. He will understand it all when he is himselfagain. And if you and I are able to show him that we have done his workwell he will hold up his head once more as he has a right to do. "

"God bless ye, girl, ye can't keep yourself apart from Latisan in thisthing, " declared an old man. "It's for the two o' ye that we do our workfrom now on! And it's for all of us, as well! For we'll ne'er draw happybreaths till we can stand by and see you meet him on the level--eye toeye--like one who has squared all accounts between you two! And the oldgrands'r, as well. What say, boys?"

But cheers could not serve their emotions then. They pulled off theircaps and scrubbed their rough hands across their jackets and walked toher in single file and shook her hand in pregnant silence. 

And then the timber went through; the drive was beating all the pastrecords. 

When they needed water they took it. They blew their own dams and werevery careless with dynamite when they came upon other dams of whoseownership they were not so sure. 

"You see, miss, rights are well mixed up all through this region, " saidold Vittum, who had been spokesman for his fellows on her first meetingwith them. He gave her a demure wink. "The main idea is, God is makingthis water run downhill just now, and it doesn't seem right for mortalman to stop it from running. "

They "manned the river, " as the drivers say. That meant overlappingcrews, day and night. 

No squad was out of sight of another; a yell above the roar of the floodor a cap brandished on the end of a pike pole summoned help to break aforming jam or to card logs off ledges or to dislodge "jillpokes" whichhad stabbed their ends into the soggy banks of the river. Men ate asthey ran and they slept as they could. Some of them, snatching time toeat, sitting on the shore, went sound asleep after a few mouthfuls andslumbered with their faces in their plates till a companion kicked themback into wakefulness. They grinned and were up again!

As for Lida Kennard, she was treated with as much tender care as if shewere a reigning princess on tour. She protested indignantly becausethey would not allow her to rough it along with them. They made softbeds of spruce tips at their camping sites and they gave her the post ofhonor in a big bateau. 

In the rush of affairs she did not pause to wonder whether she wasoffending any of the proprieties by staying on with the drive; she hadbecome the Flagg spirit incarnate and was not troubling herself withpetty matters. 

Old Vittum and Felix were her advisers, and they prized her presence asan asset of inestimable value; she allowed them to think for her in thatcrisis. 

"It's a tough life, miss, the best we can make it for you, " admittedVittum. "But if you can stick and hang till Skulltree is passed it meansthat the boys will keep the glory of doing in 'em!"

From rendering service according to her ability they could not preventher, though the men protested. She helped the cooks. Hurrying here andthere, following the scattered men of the crews, she tugged great cansof hot coffee. When the toilers saw her coming and heard her voice theytook desperate chances on the white water, jousting with their pikepoles like knights in a tourney. 

She put into the hearts of the crew the passion of derring do!

The drive that spring was not a sordid task--it was high emprise, it wasa joyous adventure!

Then the logs which had raced in the rapids came to the upper reaches ofthe slow deadwater of the flowage of the Skulltree dam; the flowagereached far back that year. 

At Skulltree was the crux of the situation, as Flagg had insisted, ragefully. 

From the early days there had been a dam at that point; it was commonproperty and conserved the water to be loosed to drive logs over theshallow rapids below. 

The Three C's had spent more money on that dam, claiming that biggerdrives needed extra water. The dam had been raised. The flowage vastlyincreased the extent of the deadwater, slowing the logs of theindependents, whose towage methods were crude. The changes which hadbeen made needed the sanction of impending legislation, required theauthority of a charter for which application had been made. In themeantime the Three C's were holding the water and would be impoundinglogs; these logs were to be diverted through the new, artificial canal. 

In asserting their rights the corporation folks were endangering theindependent drives which were destined for the sawmills of the Noda. 

Day by day, as the drive went on, the girl listened to the talk amongher men until she understood, in some measure, the situation. All thereckless haste was made of no account unless their logs were to bepermitted to pass the Skulltree dam. 

Vittum explained to her that the law was still considering the questionof "natural flowage. " The dam had been changed from time to time in pastyears until the matter was in doubt. 

"But the way the thing stands now there ain't much of that nat'ralflowage, " he told her. "I claim that we have the right to go through, law or no law. Word was served early on Latisan that he must hold up atSkulltree this year and wait for the law. "

"Did he say what he proposed to do?" she asked. 

"Yes, miss! I'll have to be excused from repeating what he said, in theway he said it, but the gist of it was that he was going through. Hesaid he would use some kind of flowage, and hoped that when the lawyersgot done talking in court it would be decided that the aforesaid nat'ralflowage was the kind that had been used by him. "

She pulled off Ward's cap and turned it about in her hand, surveying itjudiciously. "I can seem to see just how he looked when he said it. "

"He said it loud, miss, because the man he was talking to was a goodways off. He was a sheriff. He couldn't get very nigh to Latisan. We washolding the man off with our pick poles because he was trying to serve apaper. "

"An injunction?"

"I don't know, " confessed the relator mildly. "Somehow, none of usseemed to be at all curious that day to find out what it was. Sheriffnailed it to a tree and then somebody touched a match to it. Latisansaid he reckoned it must have been an invitation to Felix's wedding, butit was just as well that nobody ever read it, because the crew was toobusy to go, anyway!"

"Are Comas men guarding Skulltree dam?"

"They sure are, miss!"

She and the old man were seated on the shore of the deadwater. Theevening dusk was deepening. 

Near them the cook's fires were leaping against the sides of theblackened pots; in the pungent fragrance of the wood smoke which driftedpast there were savory odors which were sent forth when the cook liftedoff a cover to stir the stew. The peacefulness of the scene wasprofound; that peace, contrasted with the prospect of what confrontedher men if Flagg's logs were to go through, stirred acute distress inthe girl. Coming down through the riot of waters she had not had time tothink. Their logs were ahead; the laggards of the corporation drive werefollowing. She had wondered because even the cowards, as they had shownthemselves to be, had not put more obstructions in the way. There hadbeen abortive interference, but it was evident that the Three C's hadbeen making the first skirmishes perfunctory affairs, depending ondealing the big blow at Skulltree. 

In the Flagg crew it was a subject for frequent comment that Rufus Craighad not appeared in the north country to take command of his forces inthose parlous times when the Three C's interests were threatened. Incouncil Lida and her advisers began to wonder how much informationregarding the Flagg operations had filtered to the outside or whetherthe defeated Comas bosses were not apprehensively withholding word toheadquarters that they had been beaten in the race on the upper waters. 

"Craig would be here before this if he knew what was going on, " averredVittum. "They're either ashamed or scared to send him word, and theythink it can all be squared for 'em at Skulltree. " He sighed and turnedhis eyes from her anxious stare. 

Near her were rivermen who were waiting for their suppers. She was awareof a very tender feeling toward those men who had been risking theirlives in the rapids in order to indulge her in a hope which she had madeknown to them. She reflected on what the sarcastic Crowley had said whenhe told her that in that region she was among he-men. "If you're notcareful, you'll start something you can't stop, " he had threatened. Could she stop these men from going on to violent battle? Would she behonest with her grandfather and Latisan if she did try to prevent themfrom winning their fight? All past efforts would be thrown away ifSkulltree dam were not won. 

Out on the deadwater were several floating platforms; the men calledthem "headworks. " On the platforms were capstans. The headworks wereanchored far in advance of the drifting logs, around which were thrownpocket booms; men trod in weary procession, circling the capstans, pushing against long ashen bars, and the dripping tow warp hastened thedrift of the logs. 

As the men of the sea have a chantey when they heave at a capstan, sothese men of the river had their chorus; it floated to her over thequiet flood. 

 Come, all, and riffle the ledges! Come, all, and bust the jam! And for aught o' the bluff of the Comas gang we don't give one good-- Hoot, toot and a hoorah! We don't give a tinker's dam!

"That's exactly how they feel, miss, " said the old man. "They're ontheir way. They can't be stopped. "

But the declaration depressed rather than cheered her. Those men hadtaken up her cause valiantly and with single-hearted purpose, and shewas obliged to assume responsibility for what they had done and whatthey would do to force the situation at Skulltree. In the rush of thedrive, with the logs running free, the river was open to all andLatisan's task was in the course of fulfillment and the Flagg fortuneswere having fair opportunity in the competition. But now competitionmust become warfare, so it seemed. She shrank from that responsibility, but she could not evade it--could not command those devoted men to stopwith the job half finished. 

The priest's promise to find Latisan had been living with her, consolingthe hours of her waiting. Her load had become so heavy that her yearningfor Latisan's return had become desperate and anguished. 

The slow drag of the logs in the deadwater gave her time for ponderingand she was afraid of her thoughts. 

She was not accusing Latisan of being an inexcusable recreant where dutywas concerned; she was understanding in better fashion the men and themanners of the north country and she realized the full force of thereasons for his flight and why the situation had overwhelmed him. Herpity and remorse had been feeding her love. 

But the priest had promised. Latisan must know. Why did he not come toher and lift the dreadful burden in her extremity?

Old Vittum, sitting on a bleached trunk among the dry kye stranded onthe shore, plucked slowly the spills of a pine tassel, staring downbetween his knees. "You've seen how they have worked, miss, for everyounce that's in 'em. But I don't know how they'll fight if they don'thave a real captain--a single head to plan--the right man to lead off. Latisan's that! Half of 'em came north because they figured on him. I'vebeen hoping. But I'm sort of giving up. "

"I don't like to hear you say that, " she cried. "As soon as he knows thetruth he will come to us. Father Leroque promised to carry that truth tohim. "

"Providing the priest can find him in the Tomah country--yes, you havesaid that to me and I've been cal'lating to see Latisan come tearingaround a bend in the river most any minute ever since you told me. ButMiah Sprague, the fire warden, went through to-day. I've been hating toreport to you, miss, for I'm knowing to it how you feel these days; yourlooks tell me, and I'm sorry. But Sprague has come from the Tomah and hetells me that Ward Latisan hasn't been home--hasn't been heard from. Nobody knows where he is. That is straight from Garry Latisan, becauseGarry is starting a hue and a cry and asked Miah to comb the northcountry for news. "

She did not reply. She was not sure that there was a touch of rebuke inthe old man's mournful tones, but she felt that any sort of reproachwould be justified. She had never made a calm analysis of the affairbetween herself and Latisan, to determine what onus of the blame restedon her and how much was due to the plots and the falsehoods of Crowley. She clung to her sense of fault in order to spur herself to make good;that same sense, a heritage from a father, had served vicariously inrousing her spirit to battle for her grandfather. 

"I hope you're going to keep up your grit, miss, " urged Vittum. "We'lldo our best for you--but I ain't lotting much on Latisan's showing upagain. It's too bad! It'll break his heart when he finds out at lastwhat he has been left out of and what a chance he has missed. "

Like many another, she had, at times, dreamed vividly of falling fromgreat heights. That was her sensation then, awake, when she heard thatWard Latisan was not to be found. Despair left her numb and quivering. Till then she had not realized how greatly her hope and confidence inhis final coming had counted with her. She had not dared to think thathis anger would persist; it had seemed to be too violent to last. However, it was plain that rage had overmastered the love he hadproclaimed. Lida was very much woman and felt the feminine convictionthat a lover would be able to find her if his heart were set on thequest. There was only a flicker of a thought along that line; it wasmere irritation that was immediately swept away by her pity for him. Shewas able to comprehend man's talk then--she knew what Vittum meant whenhe spoke of the chance that was missed--and she understood how WardLatisan would mourn if he heard too late what the struggle that year onthe Noda waters signified in the case of the girl for whom he hadprofessed love. 

She could not talk with the old man; she stumbled across the dry kye, threw herself on her couch of boughs, and pressed her palms over herears to keep out the threat in the song of the men who toiled around andaround the capstan post, drawing the Flagg logs in their slow, relentless passage to the scene of the promised conflict at Skulltree. 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

"I'll be cursed if I don't think I ought to hire a real detective andput him onto the inside affairs in this office, " was Chief Mern's irefulopinion after he had listened to Crowley and Miss Elsham when theyreported in from the north country. They were voluble in their ownbehalf, but their talk was slippery, so the chief felt. They were alsovoluble in regard to Lida Kennard, but Mern found himself more than everenmeshed in his guesswork about that mysterious young lady. 

Crowley kept shifting off the topic onto his own prowess, pattinghimself on the breast and claiming all the credit for getting Latisanoff his job. 

Miss Elsham, on her part, kept lighting fresh cigarettes and wasconvincing on only one point: "No more wild men of the woods for me. Never again in the tall timber. I'll do night and day shifts in thecafés if you ask me to. And I've got a knickerbocker suit that's forsale!"

Mern had several interviews with the two, trying to understand. 

When the blustering Crowley was present Miss Elsham allowed him to claimall the credit and made no protest. 

Alone with Mern, she declared that Buck was a big bluff, but she was notespecially clear in her reports on his methods. 

"But what has become of Kennard?"

"I don't know. Lynched, maybe. They were threatening to do it to Buckand me before we got away. "

One thing seemed to be true--Mern had a wire from Brophy in reply to aninquiry: Ward Latisan had gone away and was staying away. 

And Rufus Craig, arriving in the city, telephoned the same informationto the chief and promised to call around and settle. 

Crowley was informed of that confirmation, and grinned and again pattedhis breast and claimed the credit. 

"All right, " allowed the chief, "you're in for your slice of the fee. But if you're lying about Kennard I'll make you suffer for desertingher. "

"I stand by what I have said. She was double-crossing us. "

Later, Crowley began to inquire casually from time to time whether MissKennard had sent in any word. He was not good at concealing histhoughts, and he was manifestly worried by the prospect of possibledevelopments, but Mern was not able to pin him down to anythingspecific. As a matter of fact, Crowley had not fathomed the mystery ofMiss Kennard's actions in Adonia and was not in a way to do so by anyprocesses of his limited intelligence; he admitted as much to himself. 

He was clumsy in his efforts to extract from the chief something inregard to the report which supposedly had been sent in by Miss Kennard, and Mern's suspicions were stirred afresh. He gave Crowley noinformation on that point; one excellent reason why he did not do sowas this: Miss Kennard had not sent in any report. Mern was stillwaiting to hear from her as to certain details; he wanted to talk withher. Crowley ventured to state that she had left Adonia, and hesuggested that she was on the trail of Latisan. The operative, pressedfor reasons why she was still pursuing Latisan, if the drive master hadbeen separated from his job by Crowley, averred that, according to hisbest judgment, the girl had gone crazy. That statement did not satisfyMern, but it enabled Crowley to avoid tripping too often overinconsistencies. 

Under those circumstances the uneasy feeling persisted in Chief Mernthat the Latisan case was not finished, in spite of Craig's complimentsand Crowley's boasts and Miss Elsham's bland agreement as to facts asstated, though with avoidance of details. 

Mern usually shut down the cover on a case as soon as the point had beenwon; he had found in too many instances that memory nagged; he hadassured Craig that having to do what a detective chief was called on todo in his business had not given him the spirit of a buccaneer. 

But in this case the lack of candor in his operatives disturbed him, though he did not presume to arraign them; he could not do thatconsistently; in the interests of his peace of mind he had alwaysassured his workers that they need not trouble him with details after ajob had been done. 

Crowley, mystified, had said nothing about the amazing love affair. Itoccurred to him that the protestations of Miss Kennard might have been apart of her campaign of subtlety, interrupted by his smashing in; hewas more than ever convinced that his was not the kind of mind thatcould deal with subtlety. 

Miss Elsham never mentioned Latisan's apparent infatuation; she had beensent north in the rôle of a charmer and did not propose to confess toMern that she had failed utterly to interest the woodsman. 

Undoubtedly the reticence of both of them was merciful; to heap thiscrowning burden upon Chief Mern's bewilderment in regard to the actionsof a trusted employee would have disqualified him mentally for othercases which were coming along. 

Crowley loafed diligently at the Vose-Mern offices when he was not outon duty; there was no knowing when he might be able to turn a trick forthe good of the concern by being on hand, he told himself, and for oneof his bovine nature all waiting around was easy and all stalls werealike. 

Therefore, one day he was on hand to rush a quick tip to the chief. Crowley turned his back on a caller who entered the main office; thebulletin bearer hurried into Mern's presence. 

"It's the big boy from the bush--Latisan!"

"Ugly?"

"I didn't wait to see. "

"You have told me straight, have you, about his being a bad actor whenhe's riled?"

"That's the real dope on him, Chief. Don't let him in to see you--that'smy advice. "

Mern took a little time for thought, inspecting his operative narrowly. 

"I ain't intending to butt in, you understand, " apologized Crowley, reddening. 

"I think that's good advice, speaking from the standpoint of prudence. "

"There's no good in hashing the thing over with him; he's off the joband I claim the credit and----"

"But from the standpoint of curiosity, " broke in Mern, relentlessly, "I'll be almighty glad to have a talk with him. I'll probably get somefacts now. Shut up! If you have come back and told me all the truth Iwouldn't be taking a chance with this man. You're to blame! Rememberthat another time. Beat it!" He jabbed his thumb in the direction of adoor which enabled clients to leave without going back through the mainoffice. 

"A man named Latisan, " reported the door boy. 

"Tell him to come in. "

Crowley turned the knob of the catch lock and dodged out into thecorridor. 

Mern stood up to receive the caller. 

He was not inspired by politeness. He was putting himself in an attitudeof defense and was depending on the brawn of a man who had been a toughproposition when he swung his police club on a New York beat. He evenmoved a chair which might get underfoot in a rough-and-tumble. But hismuscles relaxed when he looked at the man who entered. 

Latisan was deprecatory, if his manners were revealing his feelings. Hewas apologetic in his mien before he spoke; he gave Mern the impressionof a man whose spirit was broken and whose estimate of himself had gonefar toward condemnation. And Mern read aright! The bitter dregs of daysand nights of doleful meditation were in Latisan--the memory of aimlessventurings into this or that corner where he could hide away, thelatest memory of the stale little room in a cheap New York hotelpersisting most vividly in his shamed thoughts because he had pennedhimself there day after day, trying to make up his mind to do this orthat--and, especially at the nadir of what he felt was his utterdegradation, had he dwelt on the plan of ending it all, and from time totime had turned on a gas jet and sniffed at the evil fumes, wondering ofwhat sort would be death by that means. To think that he would descendto that depth of cowardice! Nevertheless, he was not especiallysurprised by this weakness, even while he hated himself for entertainingsuch a base resolve. One after the other, right and left, the blows inhis business affairs had crashed down on him. He understood thoseattacks, and he was still able to fight on. But the enemy that hadambuscaded him behind the guise of the first honest love of hisexperience had killed faith and pride and every tender emotion thatenables a man to fight the ordinary battles of life. 

Therefore, he ventured into the presence of Mern with down-hunchedshoulders under the sagging folds of a ready-made coat, bought from thepile in an up-country village. 

"Well, what can I do for you, sir?" demanded Mern, relieved ofapprehension, seeing his advantage and more coldly curt than usual inhis dealings with men whom he could bully. 

"I had this address, " faltered Latisan; he pulled from his pocket asheet of paper which had been crumpled into a mass and then folded backinto its original creases. "I was thinking--I've been sort ofplanning--I thought I'd come around and ask you----" It was one of thethings, this errand, for which he had been trying to summon resolutionwhile he sat in the stuffy room, glancing up at the gas jet. 

Mern jerked away the paper, noting that its letterhead was his own. Itwas his epistle to one "Miss Patsy Jones, Adonia, " demanding from herinformation as to just what she was doing as an operative for theVose-Mern agency. 

"It's about Miss Jones. I thought I'd step in----"

"Well?" demanded Mern when Latisan paused. 

"That's her real name, is it? I know how detectives----"

"It's her real name, " stated Mern, of a mind to protect her until he wasconvinced that she did not deserve protection by him. 

"She works for you?"

"She does. "

"Could I see her for a few minutes--for a few words----"

"I don't think so, " hedged the chief. "Just why do you want to see MissJones?"

"I've been thinking matters over. I did a terrible thing when I was sortof out of my mind. She had something to say to me and I didn't wait tohear it. Perhaps I have made a mistake. Now I'd like to talk with herand find out about something. "

"Just what?" probed Mern. 

"I can't say right now. It's between us two, Miss Jones and myself--atleast I thought it was. I'm going to have a talk with her before I tellanything to anybody else. " He declared that stubbornly. 

"How do I know what your scheme is? You're probably holding a grudgeagainst one of my operatives. I can't turn her over to you to beharmed. "

Latisan straightened. "I shall not harm her by a word or a touch. "

"I suppose you hold a grudge against this agency, don't you?"

"The Comas company--Craig, rather--hired you to do a thing, and it hasbeen done. Craig is the one with a grudge; it's against me. I triggedhim. I reckon he has a right to get even, as he looks at it, if hismoney can buy what you have to sell. "

"We don't like to do some of the things that are put up to us, Latisan. But I may as well be out and open with you. Craig paid us a lot of moneywhen we broke the strike for him. We have to consider business. That'swhy we went ahead and got you, as we did. If you had been able to turnaround and get us, I would not have held any hard feelings. It's all inthe game. " There was no especial sympathy in Mern's tone; he wastreating a victim with a patronizing air. 

"I'm afraid I'm not up to tricks enough to play that game, " retortedLatisan. "We'll have to let it stand as it is. I'm sort of trying toclear up my mind about the whole matter, so as to put it behind me. Idon't want to feel that there's any mistake about Miss Jones. That's whyI'd like to see her once more. "

He was showing nervous anxiety. 

It came to Mern that here was offered an opportunity to go even fartherwith Latisan than the contract had demanded. Now that the man had beenpulled off the drive, a little shrewd maneuvering would hold him in NewYork, away from the Flagg interests, until the Comas folks could havetheir way. No doubt Craig would consider that the extra service was anacceptable bonus, over and above what the agency had done. 

"I'll tell you. " Mern was affable. "Miss Jones is away on another case. She is likely to report 'most any time. The best way for you is to dropin each day, say around three o'clock in the afternoon. I think she willbe glad to explain anything you're now puzzled about. You still think, do you, you'd better not tell me?" The chief's curiosity, his desire todig into the doings of his operatives, urged him to solicit Latisanagain. "My advice----"

"I don't want it. I don't take any stock in a man who does the kind ofwork you're up to, " declared Latisan, bluntly. "I don't take much stockin anybody, any more. I may be a fool for wanting to see that young ladyagain--but I'll call in to-morrow. "

"About three!" Mern reminded him, having an object in setting that hour. 

Latisan nodded and went away. 

The chief called the Comas corporation offices and got Director Craig onthe telephone. When Mern announced his identity, Craig evidentlysupposed that it was a matter of a dun and broke in, chuckling: "I'llbring the check in to-morrow. I'd have done so, anyway, for I plan tostart north right away. What's the matter, Mern? Grabbing for the coinbecause you are afraid the job isn't going to stay put?"

"That isn't the idea at all. I simply want to show you something whichwill prove that the money has been well earned. I'll show you Latisan. "

"I don't care to meet that gentleman right now. Oh no!"

"I'll plant you where you won't be seen. You can view Exhibit A. I thinkI'll be able to promise that Latisan is going to stay here in New York. That ought to make you feel safer when you go back north into thejungle. No tiger behind a tree!"

"Say, I'll hand you that check like daddy giving a stick of candy to thebaby!" said Craig with hearty emphasis. "I'll own up that I have beenkilling time here in the city, waiting to get a line on Latisan--wherehe is. I have found that he's a lunatic when he's ugly--and there's notelling how far a grudge will drive a man in the big woods. So he's herein town?"

"Yes, and I'm rigging hopples to keep him here, I tell you. Come in attwo forty-five. See the tame tiger!"

Then Mern called in Crowley, who was very ill at ease, but wasobstinately and manifestly at bay. "Let's see. Didn't I understand youto say, Buck, that Miss Kennard had gone chasing Latisan?"

"That's the way I figured it. "

"You're wrong. He's chasing her. That's why he came in here. "

The chief had snarled, "You're wrong, " in a peculiarly offensive tone. Mr. Crowley, after his proclaimed success in the Latisan case, had comeup a number of notches in self-esteem and was inclined to dispute anallegation that he was wrong in that matter or in anything else. He wasprovoked into disclosures by sudden resentment. "She stood out there inthe public street and said she was in love with him and would marry himafter the drive was down, and she grabbed up his cap and coat when heran away, and if it ain't natural to suppose that she was going to chasehim up and hand 'em over, then what?"

"Look here, Crowley, what kind of a yarn is this?"

"It's true. "

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"It didn't have anything to do with the case, as I was working it. Itwas a side issue!" Crowley raised his voice, insisting on his ownprowess. "The idea was to get him off the job--and I did it. Iclaim----"

"You infernal, damnation lunkhead, get out of my office till I calmdown, " raged the chief. 

He yelped at Crowley when the operative was at the door: "Go hunt upElsham and bring her here. It looks to me as if Kennard was foxier thanthe dame I sent, and has turned the trick in her own way. "

"I ain't afraid of questions, " declared the operative. "They'll onlybring out that I'm right when I claim the credit. "

He hastened to shut the door behind him. Mern acted as if he werelooking for a missile. 

"But where is she? Why in the blue blazes doesn't she report in?"muttered the chief, worriment wrinkling his forehead. On the face ofthings, it seemed that, valuable as Miss Kennard had been asconfidential secretary, she was still more valuable as a skillfuloperative--and Chief Mern was earnestly desirous of having her back onthe job. 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Chief Mern's interview with his two operatives the next forenoon did notyield the solid facts he was after. They disputed each other. MissElsham insisted that she had had Latisan on the run and claimed that hisapparent involvement with Miss Kennard was merely a silly and fleetingflirtation with one whom he supposed was a table girl in a tavern. 

"You gave me his character, all written out, " insisted Miss Elsham. "He's that kind. He didn't dare to presume with me as he would with agirl in a dining room; but I was getting along all right till Crowleybutted in. " She turned spitefully on that monopolizer and meddler. "Andnow don't stand there and say again that you claim the credit. I'll slapyour face!"

Miss Elsham lied so strenuously that she was convincing. 

Crowley, trying hard to tell the truth for once, stammered and stumbledover the amazing details of the lovemaking between Latisan and MissKennard. The chief found the really veracious recital beyond belief. 

"She wouldn't offer to marry him, standing there in public, " stormedMern. "I know Kennard. She isn't that sort. I'll go to the bottom ofthis thing, even if it means a trip for me to that God-forsaken tanktown. I'd give a thousand dollars to see Lida Kennard walk in throughthat door. I was never so worried about anything in all my life, " helamented. "Crowley, you deserted the most valuable person I have everhad in my office--and God knows what has happened to her. " He sent themaway. 

"What does it get anybody to tell the truth?" grumbled Crowley. 

"Nothing, when it sounds so ridiculous as the truth in this case, "averred Miss Elsham. "Everybody seems to go crazy up in the talltimbers. Give me the tall buildings for mine after this. "

In high good humor Rufus Craig appeared to Mern that afternoon a littlebefore three o'clock. He sat down, pulled out the slide leaf of Mern'sdesk, and produced a check book. "No need my seeing Exhibit A beforesettling. Tell me the expense account. I'll include everything in onecheck. "

With pen poised, waiting until the figures were brought in, the Comasman expressed his satisfaction. "There were three on the job, so I wastold in Adonia when I came through. That's all right, Mern. I expectedyou to use your own judgment. I didn't have much time in Adonia--grabbedwhat information I could while waiting for the train to start--but it'sa sure bet that Latisan is off for good. From what I heard it was yourMiss Jones who really put it over--gave Latisan what they call up therethe Big Laugh. Now who the blazes is this Miss Jones?"

"An operative of ours, " the chief replied, with repression of enthusiasmdecidedly in contrast with Craig's indorsement of her. Mern did not dareto be other than vague, leaving Lida Kennard's identity concealed untilhe could understand something about the inside affairs in his agency. The reflection that he was still in the dark--could not talk out to aclient as a detective should--was stirring his sour indignation more andmore. 

"I'd like to meet her, " urged the director. "She must be a wonder. Agreat actress, I should judge, from what I was told in Adonia. "

"She's having her vacation just now. "

"Look here, Mern! I'm going to stick a couple of hundred more onto thischeck. Send it along to her and tell her to have an extra week or a newdress at my expense. I've made a side-line clean-up on the Tomah thisseason and money is easy with me. " That was as explicit as Craig caredto be in regard to the deal with the Walpole heir. Still poising hispen, the director turned expectant gaze on the door when the knob wasturned; a flurried, fat girl whose manner showed that she was new to theplace had received Mern's orders about the figures; now she camebringing them. 

Craig frowned while he wrote the check after the girl had retired. 

He was a bit pettish when he snapped his check book shut. "Say, Mern, Ialways like to see that Kennard girl when I come into your office. Ilike her looks. I like the way she puts out her hand to a man. "

"I'm sorry she isn't here. But she's--she's out--sick. "

"Good gad! I hope it's nothing serious. " Craig showed real concern. 

"Oh no! Just a--a rather severe cold. " The chief was having hard workto conceal his mental state--being obliged to lie that way, like a fool, in order to hide the mystery in his own office!

"Give me her street number. I'll send up a bunch of flowers. "

"She is out with some friends in the country to get clean air. I don'tknow the address. "

Mern perceived that more questions were coming. Craig was franklyrevealing his interest in Miss Kennard. 

The chief pulled out his watch; he had a good excuse for changing anembarrassing subject. "Latisan is about due. Of course, you don't wantto be seen. I'll post you in one of the side consulting rooms. "

"It seems rather silly, this spying, " remonstrated Craig. "I'm takingyour word about Latisan. I'm getting ready to start north, and have alot of matters to look after. "

"Humor my notion, " urged the chief. "He has been tamed down and I wantyou to see him. You'll understand why I believe I can keep him hangingaround here till you have nailed things to the cross up-country. "

Craig showed no alacrity, but he allowed Mern to lead him to a smallroom that was separated from the main office by a ground-glasspartition; there was a peephole at one corner of a panel. The directorpromised to wait there until the interview with Latisan was over. Thechief said he would make it short. 

Latisan walked in exactly on the stroke of three; after he came up inthe elevator he had waited in the corridor, humbly obedient to Mern'sdirections as to the hour. 

"Nothing doing in that matter to-day, Latisan, " stated the chief, affecting to be busily engaged with papers on his desk. "Try meto-morrow, same time. "

"Very well, sir, " agreed the young man, somberly. In prospect, anothertwenty-four hours filled with lagging minutes! He had grown to know thehideous torture of such hours in the case of a man who before-time hadfound the days too short for his needs. 

"By the way, " said Mern, still hanging grimly to the desire to find outmore about what the matter was with the office's internal affairs, "didanybody tell you that Miss Jones had returned to New York?"

"I wired to Brophy a few days ago. He said she had come back here, according to what he knew of her movements. "

"You fell in love with her, didn't you?" The chief's tone was crisp withthe vigor of third-degree abruptness. 

"Yes, " admitted Latisan, showing no resentment; he had promulgated thatfact widely enough in the north. 

"Just why did she urge you so strongly to go back to the drive?" Theyoung man's meekness had drawn the overeager chief along to anincautious question. 

"You ought to know better than I, sir. I take it that she was obeyingyour orders about how to work the trick on me, though it isn't clear inmy mind as yet; but I'm not a detective. "

"Did she promise to marry you as soon as the Flagg drive was down?"Still Mern was boldly taking advantage of the young man's docility. 

"That's true. I must admit it because it was said in public. "

Mern scratched his ear. The thing was clearing somewhat in Crowley'sdirection; the blunderer had not lied on one point at least--the pointthat Mern found most blindly puzzling. What in the mischief had happenedto the nature of Lida Kennard, as Mern knew that nature, so he thought!

"You remember Operative Crowley, do you?"

"Naturally. "

"Are you holding an especial grudge against him?"

"I don't know why I should, sir. It's a dirty business he's in, but hegave me that letter which I turned over to you yesterday, and for somereason he exposed the trick that was being put upon me by the girl. If Ican get at the bottom of the thing, for my own peace of mind, I'll beglad. "

Chief Mern sympathized with that sentiment!

Then he took a little time for reflection. Perhaps a meeting betweenLatisan and Crowley might strike a few sparks to illuminate a situationthat was very much in the dark. 

"If Crowley is around the office I'm going to ask him to step in here. The talk will be all friendly, I take it?"

"I have nothing against Crowley, as matters stand. "

Latisan did not greet Crowley when the operative replied to the summonsand walked into the private office; on the other hand, Latisan showed noanimosity. He merely surveyed Crowley with an expression of mingled pityand wonderment, as if he were sorry for an able-bodied man who earned aliving by the means which the operative employed. 

Crowley, at first, was not as serene as the man whom he had injured. 

"Latisan tells me that he holds no grudge, " stated Mern, encouragingly. 

"I'm glad of that, Latisan. We have to play the game in this business. And I'm not laying it up against you, how you made a monkey of me inthat dining room and nigh twisted my head off. Both of us know now whoit was that rubbed our ears and sicked us at each other. "

The victim of the operations nodded, no especial emotion visible in hiscountenance. 

"Right here between us three I'll come out all frank and free, "continued Crowley. "I'm making a claim to the chief in this thing, Latisan, and I believe you'll back me up. She jumped in on me andElsham--one day later from the agency than we were--and she wouldn'ttalk to me, and I'll admit I didn't have her play sized from the start. But she wasn't the one that turned the trick. " Mr. Crowley was venturingrather far with the victim, but he was encouraged by Latisan's continuedmildness and by a firm determination to set himself right with Mern, whohad been doubting his efficiency. 

"As I have been looking at it, she was the one who did it, " insisted theyoung man. 

"Now see here! Wake up!" Crowley was blustering as he grew bolder. "Youwere letting the girl wind you around her finger. What woke you up? Whatmade you sore on the whole proposition up there? It was my tip to you!You can't deny it. "

"Yes, it might have been your tip, " admitted Latisan, knotting hisbrows, staring at the floor, confused in his memories and puzzling overthe mystery. "I had promised to bring down the logs because she asked meto keep on and do it. "

"There you have it!" indorsed Crowley, swinging his arm and flatteninghis thick palm in front of the chief. "I claim the credit. "

Crowley had become defiantly intrepid, facing that manner of man who wasso manifestly cowed and muddled. The operative was back in hisencouraging environment of the city; he remembered the thrust of thoseprongs of fingers on his head when he was obliged to dissemble and wasshamed in the north country. He was holding his grudge. And he wasassiduously backing up the claims he had made to his chief. "The girlyou're talking about had nothing to do with pulling you off the job. Shewas double-crossing our agency. "

"Think so?" queried Latisan. 

"I know it. But I don't know what fool notion got into her up there. Ihave told Mr. Mern all about it. I'm the boy who woke you up!"

"Do you agree, Latisan?" asked Mern, brusquely. 

"I'm not thinking clearly, sir. But if this man is right, I ought toapologize to her. "

"She is no longer employed by us, but we'll try to locate her. " Mern waswilling to come out in front of Crowley with that information; thesituation did seem to have cleared up! "Hang around town. Come inagain. "

Latisan dragged himself up from his chair. 

Then Crowley of the single-track mind--bull-headed blunderer--went on tohis undoing. "I'm sorry it has come about that you've got to fire her, Chief. I know what a lot she was worth to you here, as long as she keptto her own job. "

"We'll let it rest, " said Mern, warningly. He remembered that he had notposted Crowley on the fact that the sobriquet "Miss Patsy Jones" stillhid the identity of the girl where Latisan was concerned. 

"All right! That suits me, Chief, so long as I get the credit. I'll shutup, saying only that I'm sorry for Miss Lida Kennard. "

Latisan had been moving slowly toward the door, aware that theconversation between the two pertained to their own affairs and that hewas excluded. 

He halted and swung around when he heard the name of Lida Kennard. Thetorpor of idleness and woeful ponderings had numbed his wits. The nameof Lida seemed to have been dragged into the affair by Crowley. Ward didnot understand how she could be involved in the matter. He put thatthought into a question which he stammered. 

Mern, knowing nothing about his secretary's lineage, resenting hersecrecy and methods which he had not been able to penetrate, was not ina mood to shield her any longer. "It's the same girl, Latisan. Shecalled herself Jones up your way. Her right name is Lida Kennard. "

Latisan blinked like one who had emerged from darkness into blazinglight. He swayed slowly, breasting that deluge of the truth whichsuddenly swept through him. 

He walked to the window, turning his back on them, and gazed squarelyinto the quivering sun that was westering between lofty buildings. Hiseyes were enduring the unveiled sun with more fortitude than his soulendured the truth which had just been unveiled. 

This--this was the heart of the mystery!

He was not meditating while he stood there; he was beholding!

He saw in the white light the spirit of her sacrifice--a sacrifice whichembraced even her submission to him; in his desolate denial of anyworthy attributes in himself he was not admitting that she loved him. Herealized what she had sought to achieve in the north country, why shecould not declare herself. And he had allowed a trick to make a fool ofhim, make him a traitor to her, send him off, sneaking in byways, idlingin dark corners, in the time of her most desperate need!

Right then there was in him the awful conviction that he could not goand face her, wherever she was, so utterly a renegade had he shownhimself. 

He was taking all the blame on himself. He had run away from a laugh--afool obsessed by a silly notion of the north country--in this new lightit seemed silly. He had not waited like a man to hear the truth fromher! He had betrayed all the cause; he could not go back to the drive. 

He had listened to a lying sneak from a detective agency and hadrebuffed, insulted, abused horribly Lida Kennard! Lida Kennard! The nameseemed to be hammering at his eardrums. The granddaughter of EchfordFlagg! A lone girl trying to save a cause! In her anguished desperationshe had been willing to give herself in the way of sacrifice even tosuch a recreant as Ward Latisan must have appeared in his boyish andselfish resentment! Oh, the sun was cool in comparison with the fireswhich raged in him. 

The fatuous Crowley moved toward the window. "Well, what say, old boy?"

When the young man turned slowly the operative stuck out his hand. "I'magreeing with you--no grudges! Let's shake!"

"Yes, you did it, " said Latisan. He did not raise his voice. He wastalking as much to himself as to Crowley. "A tip to me, you called it. "

"We have to do those things to get quick results, " Crowley agreed, patronizingly. "Give us your hand, boy!"

Crowley got what he asked for. He was not prepared for the amazingsuddenness of the open-handed blow that fell on the side of his head andsent him staggering into a corner. 

Mern grabbed up the telephone. Latisan leaped and tore the instrumentfrom the chief's grasp, ripped it loose from its fastenings, and hurledit through the ground-glass door. 

Mern was a big man; he had been invincible as a police officer. But whenhe leaped and struck at Latisan, the latter countered with histoil-hardened fist and knocked Mern down. Crowley had also served withthe police. But he was no match for the berserker rage which hadtransformed the man from the woods. Latisan whirled again to Crowley, beat him to his knees, set his foot against the antagonist's breast anddrove him violently backward, and he fell across Mern. 

But Latisan was not through. Men who had viewed John Latisan in the olddays when he came roaring down to town, had they been present in theVose-Mern offices that day, would have recognized in the grandson theLatisan temperament operating in its old form and would not have beensurprised. The avenger picked up Mern's desk chair. He swung it abouthim, smashing everything in the room which could be smashed. He flungaway the fragments of the chair and rushed into the outer office. 

The fat girl was calling for central, for police. 

"Hand it over!" he commanded. "And you'd all better step outside, " hesuggested, after he had torn loose the wires. "I'm using the officeright now. "

He picked up the chair from which she fled. It was heavy and he used itto smash other furniture. Then he began to beat out the glass which shutoff the other private rooms which adjoined the main office. In thatprocess he brought the terrified Craig into view. He dropped the chair, reached in, and dragged Craig over the sill of the compartment. "Thishas been coming to you on the Noda waters! I'm glad you're here now toget it!" He held the Three C's director helpless in utter dismay, at thefull length of a left arm, and pummeled him senseless with a right fist. Then he dragged him to the door of the chief's office and flung himacross the two men who were stirring. 

"It's a fifty-fifty wreck--this office and me--pretty nigh total!"

He walked out. Youth, strength, and an incentive which did not animatethe others, had enabled him to prevail. 

Mern and Crowley struggled weakly from under the man who was pinningthem down. 

"I'll get word to the cops, " stuttered Crowley, holding his hand to hisbattered and bleeding lips. 

"Wait till Craig comes to!" protested Mern. "He may want us to hush thething. He has been hollering for soft pedal all the time. He seems bad!Get a doctor!"

The physician who came confirmed Mern's opinion as to the condition ofthe field director; Craig himself was querulously emphatic on the pointwhen he had been brought to consciousness. But he insisted on postponingconsideration of the proper action to take in Latisan's case until hehad time to forget his aches and compose his thoughts. 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Early the next morning glaziers, carpenters, and telephone repair menmonopolized the Vose-Mern offices to the exclusion of regular business. The chief had told his office force to stay away for the day. 

He had found one chair that was whole, and he sat and watched the "afterthe storm" effect gradually disappear. 

Mern's thoughts were as much in disorder as the interior he wassurveying. 

Instead of feeling lively enmity in the case of Latisan, he wasadmitting to himself that he rather admired the young wildcat from thewoods. At any rate, Latisan had accepted at face value Mern's repeateddictum that if the other fellow could get Mern while Mern was set ongetting the fellow, there would be no grudges. Latisan's come-back, thechief reflected, was crude work, but it was characteristically after thestyle of the men of the open; and the wreck of an office was lessdisastrous than the wreck of a man's prospects and his very soul. Mernwas not a bit of a sentimentalist, but he could see the situationvaguely from Latisan's standpoint. And he realized that there was stillsomething behind it all which he had not come at. 

He was roused from his ponderings by the crunching of feet on brokenglass, and looked up and beheld Latisan. Halted just inside the door ofthe main office was a policeman in uniform. And the officer, well knownby Mern, caught the chief's eye and winked. 

Mern jumped to his feet; he was much astonished and glanced to seewhether Latisan's fists were doubled. 

"Good morning, sir!" said the caller, politely. "I have come aroundearly to let you know that I'm not the kind of a man who does a thingand runs away from the responsibility of it. "

With prolonged scrutiny--stares which crossed like fencing blades--thetwo principals mutely questioned each other. Latisan displayed the mostcomposure. He had not the same reason as had Mern to be surprised; itwas immediately made plain that Latisan had devoted some thought topreparations for the interview. He stepped closer. Even though his smileseemed to be meant as an assurance of amity, Mern flinched; heremembered that the woodsman had begun the battle the day before after aremark in a most placid tone. 

Latisan tipped his head to indicate the waiting policeman. "I broughthim along. I asked him to come up from the street. He doesn't know whatfor. "

"Nor I, either!" blurted Mern. 

"I thought you might want me arrested on sight, and I remember what Idid to your telephones, and I figured I'd save you the trouble ofsending out. "

There was no mistaking the drive master's new mood. He was polite; hewas contrite. The picturesque touch furnished by supplying a policemansuggested the Vose-Mern "anticipatory system" and appealed to thechief's grim sense of humor. Also, Mern was moved by that consciousnesswhich warms real men, when it's a mutual acknowledgment, "He's a goodsport. "

Mern waved his hand to the policeman, putting into that gesture ameaning which the officer understood; the officer started for the outerdoor. 

"Just a second!" called Latisan. He pulled out a roll of money and gavethe policeman a bill. "You can use that to pay your fare down in theelevator. "

Latisan held the roll in sight until he and Mern were alone. "While thecash is out, I may as well inquire what the bill is. "

"For what?"

"For this. " The woodsman swung the hand which held the money, making awide sweep to take in all the wreck. 

"No bill, Latisan! You can't pay a cent. I think we'll call it naturalwear and tear in the course of business. "

The chief was sitting in the chair which had escaped damage. He insistedon the caller taking that chair; Mern sat on a carpenter's sawhorse. 

"Perhaps I had you going yesterday, Chief Mern, but to-day it's you whohave got me going!" admitted Latisan, frankly mystified by thisforbearance. 

"I'm only backing up the talk I have always made about giving the otherfellow his innings if he wants to take 'em and has the grit to put itover. Look here, Latisan, two men are never really well acquainted tillthey've had a good run-in with their fists. You and I have been standingeach other off on facts. Let's get down to cases. How did it happen thatyou fell for Lida Kennard so suddenly?"

Ward flushed. It was a sacred subject, but he resolved to be frank withMern, searching for the truth. "It was not sudden. I met her here in thecity by accident months ago--and I must have fallen in love with herthen. I've been admitting that I did, though I did not know her realname till yesterday. And I did not know she was a detective, set on mytrail. And even now----"

"You don't believe it, eh? Let me say it to you, Latisan--and get meright! You're a square chap and I can afford to be square, now that thejob is done and paid for. The girl never was an operative. She was myconfidential secretary, and the best one I ever had. Working hard hereto pay up the debts she had incurred on account of her mother. As cleanas a whistle, Latisan! She never told me she was going north. Thatletter you brought is one I wrote after Crowley reported that she wasthere--and I wanted to know why she was there. "

"I can tell you why. She is Echford Flagg's granddaughter. "

Mern leaped up and kicked the carpenter's bench away from him. Latisanrose, too, as if prepared to resent any detracting speech. 

"Don't trouble yourself, " snapped Mern. "I'm not saying a word againsther for what she was doing up there. I trained her myself in what shecalled the ethics of this business, and she had been practicing what Ihave preached. It's all right, Latisan. "

"The thing cleared itself up pretty quickly for me yesterday when Ifound out her name. But now that I know who she is I'm in hell. I ranaway! I have left that drive----"

"Aw, to blazes with your drive!" yelped Mern, with scorn. "Only logs!But what I want to know is this, does the girl love you?"

"She told me so, but how can she have any affection for such a man as Ihave shown myself to be? I think she was sacrificing herself because shebelieved I was the one who could bring down the Flagg drive. "

Mern surveyed him cynically. "Say, Latisan, I hope you're not the kindwho would bite a gold coin stolen from a dead man's eye. You woodsfellows have too much time for joint debates with your own selves. Gofind that girl and square yourself. I want her to have what she wants, if she is in love with you. That's the kind of a friend I am to her. Ican't tell you where she is. I haven't heard from her since she walkedout of this office. But let me say something to you! My kind of work haswised me up to what folks are likely to do! I'll bet a thousand dollarsthe girl hasn't run very far away from the north country, even if youdid think it was too hot to hold you. "

Latisan shook his head slowly. Confidence was still chilled in him; thememory of what had happened was a forbidding barrier; in her case, atthe thought of thrusting himself back into her presence, he was astimid to an extreme as he had been fearless in his dealings with men inthe Vose-Mern offices. 

While he was wrestling with his thoughts, delivery men were wrestlingwith furniture, bringing it in through the door from the corridor, blocking the passage. 

Mern snapped his attention from Latisan, then he pushed the latter outof the range of vision from the corridor door. 

Craig was out in the corridor, cursing the furniture and the men whowere obstructing the doorway. Craig was in a hurry and in a state ofmind; his language revealed his feelings. 

"It won't do--it won't do!" insisted Mern when Latisan protested atbeing shoved behind the partition. "He mustn't see you. Hear him rave!I'm not staging another fight to-day. Stay in there! Crouch down! Keepout of sight. "

When Craig won his way past the blocking furniture he stormed to Mern, stamping across the glass-strewn floor, shaking his fists and jabbering. 

He was in a horrible state of rage. His face was so apoplecticallypurple that the bruises on his patched-up countenance were subduedsomewhat by lack of contrast. 

"Look at me! Called down to the home office just now, looking like this. Lying like blazes about an automobile accident! That's what yourinvitation to view the tame tiger has done for me. But that isn't whatI'm here for, you damnation, four-flushing double-crosser. " He continuedto berate the chief. 

"Say, you hold on there!" barked Mern, managing a few oaths of his ownafter struggling out of the amazement stirred by this ferocious attack. "If you're here to do business or to complain about the business thathas been done, you'll have to be decent, or I'll run you out. " Mernjutted his jaw and took two steps in Craig's direction--and Craig hadsuffered violence too recently to persist in inviting more. 

But he was still as acrimonious as he dared to be. Behind his rage therewas the bitterness of a man who had been tricked out of money--betrayedshamefully--but Craig was so precipitate, breathless, violent, soprovokingly vague with his tumbling words and his broken sentences, thatMern ceased to be angry in return and was merely bewildered. 

The Comas field director shook under Mern's nose a sheet of paper. Hekept referring to the writing on the paper and vouchsafed informationthat the writing was made up of notes of a long-distance conversationbetween the woods and the New York offices of the Comas company. 

After a time Mern suggested with acerbity that Craig was incoherent. 

"I don't doubt it. I feel that way, " yelped Craig. "But this message hascome over three or four hundred miles of wire--relayed, at that, and Ithink the man who started the word from a fire-outpost station wasn'tentirely right in his head. There's no other way of accounting for thestatement that Ward Latisan's cap and Eck Flagg's cant dog are bossingthe Flagg drive. "

"Don't get wrought up by crazy guff!"

"But here are some statements that I _am_ wrought up over, " declaredthe director, brandishing the paper. "I've got to believe 'em. Theysound straight. Three of our new hold dams in streams that feed the Nodahave been blown. The water has been used to sweep the Flagg logs inahead of ours. The lip of the Tougas Lake has been blown, too, and if welose that water it's apt to leave us high and dry; our Tougas operationis a long way in from the main river. They've shot blue blazes out ofCarron Gorge and have taken the water along with 'em. Merry hell is topay all up and down that river, Mern. "

The agency chief did not relish Craig's bellicose manner, nor the glarein his one eye that showed, nor the imputation of vindictive rebuke inhis rasping tones. 

"Craig, I never saw a log in a river. I know nothing about your drives. Why are you pitching into me?"

"Why? Why? Because this message says that the girl you sent north--thegirl who was paid by our money--this report says that she has gone upthere and has put the very devil into Flagg's men; is making 'em dothings that the worst pirates on the river never dared to do before. What kind of a she wildcat did you hand me, anyway? Mern, a thousandtons of liquid fire poured into the valley of the Noda couldn't hurt uslike that girl is hurting us. Who is she? What is she? Get your word toher! Call her off!"

That was no time for equivocation. Craig's frenzy demanded candor andthreatened reprisal if the truth were not forthcoming. Mern told partof the truth. 

"She has called her own self off, Craig, so far as this agency isconcerned. I have no further control over her actions. "

Chief Mern was not conscious of any especial surprise after Craig hadreported that section of his news which could be understood. Thegranddaughter of Flagg could not be expected to do other than she wasdoing. In his honest regard for the helper who had served him so longand efficiently, the chief was wondering whether he ought to reveal heridentity to the Comas man, trying to estimate the danger of such arevelation. Craig was not stating that his news hinted who she was. 

As to the details of the drive, he was more explicit. He raged on whileMern pondered. "The Flagg drive is a week ahead of time. It must be nearSkulltree dam. I ought to have been up there and I don't understand whythe infernal fools have been so slow in getting word to me. "

He wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. 

"Look here, Mern, I never ought to do another stroke of business withyou, but I'm in too much of a hurry to go anywhere else. "

The business instincts of the head of the agency were stirred; the Comasmoney had been good picking in the past. "I don't think I should be heldresponsible for an operative who has severed connections. Craig, youhave probably made your own mistakes in depending on helpers. "

"Don't you make any mistake this time, Mern! I want a dozen or fifteenmen--gunmen. Can you furnish 'em?"

"Sure thing! Within an hour. "

"I have promised results to my folks this season. I've got to deliver. My job depends on it, after all the talk I've made at headquarters. "

"Will your headquarters back up my operatives?"

"I'll do that! I'm playing this game on my own hook. There'll be nofight. The bluff will be enough, if I have the men. And if I haveto--well, there's a fight between lumberjacks every season on thatriver, and there's a big wall of woods between Skulltree dam and NewYork, Mern! I'll take my chances up behind that wall. Get the men forme. "

"When are you leaving?"

"One o'clock this afternoon--Grand Central. "

"I'll deliver the men to you there. "

Craig stamped away across the glass-littered floor and disappeared. 

"Well, " averred the chief when Latisan came out from behind thepartition, "it looks as if somebody had been attending to your job foryou, son! Also looks as if there might be considerable more doing rightaway!"

"So that's more of your devilish business, is it, sending gunmen tofight honest workers?" demanded the drive master, with venom. 

"Business is still business with me in spite of the looks of thisoffice, " returned Mern, unruffled. "Latisan, you can't beef about notgetting a square deal--and I've put you in the way of getting a tip. Itlooks to me----"

"Just the same as it looks to me!" cried the young man. "We're fullyagreed as to all the looks! Good day!"

He stood very straight and shot Mern through with a stare from hard grayeyes. There was no longer any of the faltering uncertainty that he haddisplayed. Grim determination radiated from him. 

"Good day to you, also!" Mern called after Latisan when he strode towardthe door, then adding suggestively. "If any mail happens to come herefor you, I'm to forward it along to that Skulltree dam, so I take it!"

The irony did not provoke any retort from the drive master. He went awaywith a rush, but his demeanor showed that he was not running away fromanything or anybody. He was hastening toward something. 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Latisan was on that one o'clock train when it left Grand Centralstation. 

From the gallery of the concourse he had seen Craig march to the gateand give a packet into the hands of one of a group of men waiting there. Then Craig had gone on quickly with the air of a cautious performer whodid not care to be identified with the persons for whom he had providedtransportation. 

The drive master rode in a coach and felt safe from detection; heguessed that Craig would hide his battered face in the privacy of adrawing room. Latisan had trailed the operatives and saw them enter thesmoking car. 

In the late afternoon, at a stage in the journey, he crossed a city onthe heels of the party and again was an unobtrusive passenger in acoach, avoiding the sleeping cars. He slept a bit, as best he could, butmostly he pondered, fiercely awake, bitterly resolute. He fought awayhis memory of the betrayal of a trust; he indulged in no fond hopes inregard to one whom he now knew as Lida Kennard. He was concentrating onhis determination to go back to the drive, not as master, but as avolunteer who would carry his cant dog with the rest of them, as humbleas the plainest toiler. He did not try at that time to plan a course ofaction to be followed after he was back on the Flagg drive. He wasgoing, that was all!

It was a hideous threat, the menace that Craig was conveying into thenorth country in the persons of those gunmen from the city! There hadbeen plenty of fights over rights on the river, but they had always beenclean fights, where muscles and fists counted for the victory. 

Craig had claimed that the bluff of the guns would be sufficient. Latisan was not agreeing, and on that account he was finding the outlooka dark one. 

The train on which he was riding was an express headed for Canada, andwas due to pass the junction with the Adonia narrow-gauge at about twoo'clock in the morning. There was no scheduled stop at the junction; theafternoon train connected and served the passengers from downcountry. 

Latisan had bought a ticket to the nearest regular stopping place of theexpress. He began to wonder whether Craig, with the influence of theComas to aid him and his fifteen fellow passengers in an argument, hadbeen able to secure special favors. 

To the conductor, plucking out the hat check before the regular stop thehither side of the junction, he said, "By any chance, does this trainever stop at the Adonia narrow-gauge station?"

"It happens that it stops to-night by special orders. "

Latisan paid a cash fare and rode on. 

The coach in which he sat was the last car on the train; the smoker andsleeping cars were ahead. 

When the train made its unscheduled stop, Latisan stepped down and wasimmediately hidden in the darkness. He saw Craig and his crew on thestation platform; the headlight of a narrow-gauge locomotive threw aradiance which revealed them. Therefore, it was plain, Craig had wiredfor a special on the Adonia line. 

Only one car was attached to the narrow-gauge engine; Latisan went asclose as he dared. There was no room for concealment on that miniaturetrain. It puffed away promptly, its big neighbor on the standard-gaugeroared off into the night, and Latisan was left alone in the blacknessbefore the dawn. And he felt peculiarly and helplessly alone! In spiteof his best efforts to keep up his courage, the single-handed crusaderwas depressed by Craig's command of resources; there was a sort ofinsolent swagger in the Comas man's ability to have what he wanted. 

Latisan knew fairly well the lay of the land at the junction, but he wasobliged to light matches, one after the other, in order to find the lanewhich led to the stables of the mill company whose men had been draftedby him on one occasion to load his dynamite. The night was stiflinglyblack, there were no stars and not a light glimmered anywhere in thesettlement. 

He stumbled over the rough ground that had been rutted by the wheels ofthe jigger wagons. The muffled thud of the hoofs of dozing horses guidedhim in his search for the stables, and he found the door of thehostlers' quarters and pounded. 

"You'll have to go see the super; I don't dare to let a hoss out of herewithout orders, " said the man who listened to his request. 

"Tell me where his house is, and lend me a lantern. "

The hostler yawned and mumbled and complained because he had beendisturbed, but he fumbled for the lantern, lighted it, and gave it toLatisan, along with directions how to find the super's home. 

That minor magnate was hard to wake, but he appeared at an open upperwindow after a time and listened. 

"We can't spare a horse in mud time, with the hauling as heavy as it is. Who are you, anyway?"

"I'm Ward Latisan. "

"Hold that lantern up side of your face and let me see!"

The young man obeyed meekly. 

"Excuse me for doubting your word of mouth, " said the super, after hehad assured himself, "but we hardly expected to see you back in thisregion. " It was drawled with dry sarcasm. 

"I haven't the time to argue on that, sir. I have business north ofhere. I'll hire a horse or I'll buy a horse. "

"And you heard what I said, that I can't spare one. By the way, Latisan, you may as well understand that I won't do business with you, anyway. You got me in wrong with my folks and with the Three C's, too, when youbribed my men to load that dynamite. "

"I can't see why the Comas company----"

"I can. My folks can. If we get saw logs this year we've got to buy 'emthrough Rufus Craig. When you ran away and let Ech Flagg get dished----"

"His drive is coming through, " insisted Latisan, desperately, breakingin on speech in his turn. 

"Where are you from, right now?" inquired the super. 

"New York. "

"And a devil of a lot you must have found out about the prospect of logsfrom the independents, Flagg or anybody else. Don't come up here and tryto tell me my business; I've been here all the time. Good night!" Hebanged down the window. 

And once more Ward was alone in the night, distracted and desolate. Thistesting of the estimation in which he was held in the north countryafter the debacle in Adonia made his despondency as black as thedarkness which surrounded him. 

He wanted to call to the super and ask if at least he could buy thelantern. He decided it would be better to borrow it. 

He set away afoot by the road which led to Adonia. Farms were scatteredalong the highway and he stopped at the first house and banged on thedoor and entreated. At two houses he was turned away relentlessly. Thethird farmer was a wrinkled old chap who came down to the door, thumbinghis suspenders over his shoulders. 

"Ward Latisan, be ye?" He peered at the countenance lighted by thelantern. "Yes, I can see enough of old John in ye to prove what yeclaim. I worked for old John when I was young and spry. And one time hespeared his pick pole into the back of my coat and saved me from beingcarried down in the white water. And that's why ye can have a hoss to gowhere ye want to go, and ye can bring him back when you're done withhim. "

Therefore, not by any merit of his own, Ward secured a mount andjourneyed dismally toward the north. The farm horse was fat and stolidand plodded with slow pace; for saddle there was a folded blanket. Withonly the lantern to light the way, he did not dare to hurry the beast. It was not until wan, depressing light filtered from the east throughthe mists that he ventured to make a detour which would take him outsideof Adonia. He realized that Craig would have arranged for tote teams tobe waiting at Adonia, as he had had a special waiting at the junction, and was by that time far on his way toward Skulltree dam. 

Latisan beat the flanks of the old horse with the extinguished lanternand made what speed he could along the blazed trail that would take himto the tote road of the Noda basin. 

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The flare of the Flagg camp fires painted the mists luridly; the vaporrolled sluggishly through the tree tops and faded into the blackness ofthe night. 

Lida was seated apart from the men of the crew, knowing that theymercifully wished to spare her from hearing the plans for the morrow. 

The logs were down the deadwater to a point where the supremacy atSkulltree dam must be settled. 

She could hear the mumble of the voices of those who were in conferencearound the fires. 

Across a patch of radiance she beheld the swaggering promenade of one ofthe young cookees; he brandished a hatchet truculently. Old Vittumreached out and swept the weapon from the youngster's grasp. 

Lida heard Vittum's rebuke, for it was voiced sharply. "None o' that! Wedon't fight that way. And I'm believing that there are still enoughhonest rivermen in the Comas crowd to make it a square fight, like we'vealways had on the Noda when a fight had to be!"

Unreconciled, all her woman's nature protesting, she had come to asettled realization that the fight must happen; Vittum was putting it inwords. Now that the struggle was imminent--on the eve of it--she wantedto go down on her knees and beg them to give up the project; but shedid not dare to weaken their determination or wound their pride. Shecrouched on her cot of spruce boughs in anguished misery. 

"Nobody has got to the point of using hatchets and guns on this river, "corroborated a man on the other side of the fire from Vittum. 

Other men pitched their voices higher then, giving up the cautiousmonotone of the preceding conference. 

"Is any man afeard?" asked Vittum. 

They assured him with confidence and gay courage that no man was afraid. 

"I didn't hear any of you Injuns pipe up, " said Vittum. "You ain't verystrong on talk, anyway. But I'd kind of like to know how you feel inthis matter. We all understood--all of us regulars--that we was comingup here to fight when it got to that point. You have grabbed in laterand perhaps didn't understand it. We ain't asking you to do anything youdon't want to do. "

The Indians were silent. Even Felix Lapierre said nothing when Vittumquestioned him with a glance. The French Canadian turned to Frank Orono, squatting within arm's reach, and patted him on the shoulder. It becameplain that there was an understanding which did not require words. 

Orono rose slowly; he grinned. From the breast of his leather jacket hebrought forth a cow's horn and shook it over his head, and its contentsrattled sharply. The other Indians leaped up. They were grinning, too. 

Orono began a slow march around the camp fire, lifting his knees high, stepping slowly, beating the rattling horn into the palm of his hand. Behind him in single file, imitating his step, marched the otherIndians. The smiles faded out of their countenances; their jaws wereset, and deep in their throats they growled a weird singsong. 

"My Gawd!" yelped Vittum. "It's the old Tarratine war dance and it justfits my notions right now, and I'm in on it!"

He scrambled to his feet and fell into line at the rear of the Indians. Every man in the Flagg crew followed suit. They imitated the Indiansingsong as best they were able, their voices constantly giving forthgreater volume until they were yelling their defiance to the Three C'scompany and all its works. 

The men far out on the deadwater, pushing against the bars of thecapstan, heard the tumult on the shore and shouted the chorus of theirchallenging chantey. 

Between Lida and the men who were circling the fire there was a veil ofmist, and in the halation her champions loomed with heroic stature. Shedid not want them to suppose that she was indifferent; courage of herown leaped in her. The campaign which she had waged with them had givenher an experience which had fortified the spirit of the Flaggs. Shestepped forth from her little tent and walked down and stood in the edgeof the light cast by the camp fire. They cheered her, and she put asideher qualms and her fears as best she was able. 

When she was back in her tent she did not shield her ears from thechallenging chantey, as she had done before, and she heard withfortitude the vociferous pledges of faith in the morrow. 

The dawn came so sullenly and so slowly that the day seemed merely afaded copy of the night. 

A heavy fog draped the mountains and was packed in stifling masses inthe river valley. 

Crews in shifts marched tirelessly around the capstans of the headworks. Their voices out in the white opaqueness sounded strangely under thesounding-board of the fog. 

It was a brooding, ominous, baleful sort of a day, when shapes weredistorted in the mists and all sounds were magnified in queer fashionand the echoes played pranks with distances and locations anddirections. 

Out of the murky blank came one who had gone a-scouting. He touched hiscap to the girl and reported to her and to all who were in hearing. 

"The Three C's chief pirate has got along. Craig is down at the dam. Iwas able to crawl up mighty close in the fog. I heard him. He's ugly!"

"I reckoned he would be a mite peevish as soon as the news of the socialhappenings along the river for the past few days got to him, " saidVittum. "It's no surprise to me--been expecting him!"

"He's got a special edge on his temper--has been all bunged up by anauto accident, so I heard him giving out to the men he was talking to. "

"And what's he saying of particular interest to us?"

"Says he's going to stick right at Skulltree and kill us off singly andin bunches, just as we happen to come along. "

"News is news, and it's good or bad according to the way you look atit, " declared the old man. "Does that fresh news scare anybody?"

There was a vigorous chorus of denial; when one man averred that thestatement only made the fight more worth while he was indorsed withgreat heartiness. 

"All right!" agreed Vittum. "We'll consider that point settled. " He drewa long breath; he inquired with anxious solicitude; "Did you overhearhim saying anything about Latisan? He might have heard something, comingin fresh from outside. "

The scout gave the girl a glance of apology; he was a tactlessindividual in shading facts. "Of course, all that Three C's bunch isliars, and Craig worst of all. But I did hear him say that Latisan isloafing in New York and is prob'ly in jail by this time. "

The girl rose and walked away, and the fog shut her from their sightimmediately. She heard the old man cursing the incautious scout. "Whythe blazes didn't you smooth it? You've gone to work and hurt herfeelings. She made her mistake, and she admits it. We all make ourmistakes, " said the rebuker. "But she's true blue! I ain't laying upanything against Latisan because he doesn't show up. It's because thegirl is here that we are making men of ourselves right now. She'sdeserving of all we can give her. By gad! say I, she's going to makegood with our help. "

She was a considerable distance down the river path, but she heard thatspeech and the shout of the men indorsing the declaration. 

Lida hastened as rapidly as she was able along the path that led toSkulltree; she had reconnoitered on the previous day--going as near thedam as she dared, trying to make the lay of the land suggest some methodby which battle might be avoided. 

While she ran down the path that morning she was arriving at somedefinite conclusions. The news about Director Craig had put desperatecourage into her. The upper and the nether millstones of men and eventsin the north country had begun their grim revolutions; she resolved tocast herself between those stones in an effort to save faithful men whowere innocent of fault. 

When the dull rumble of the sluiceway waters informed her that she wasnear the camp of the enemy she went more cautiously, and when she heardthe voices of men she called, announcing that she desired to speak withDirector Craig. 

Somebody replied, after a pause which indicated that considerableamazement had been roused by a woman's voice. 

"Come along, whoever you are! Mr. Craig is on the dam. "

A man who kept jerking his head around to stare frankly at her led heralong the string piece of the great structure. 

Their meeting--she and the Comas director--was like a rencontre in thevoid of space; on the water side of the dam the mists matched the hue ofthe glassy surface and the blending masked the water; on the other side, the fog filled the deep gorge where the torrent of the sluicewaythundered. 

She was obliged to go close to him in order to emerge from the vaporinto his range of vision and to make her voice heard above the roar ofthe water. His one visible eye surveyed her with blank astonishment;near as she was to him, he did not recognize her at first in her roughgarb of the woods. 

"Mr. Craig, I _was_"--she stressed the verb significantly--"an employeein the Vose-Mern agency in New York. I met you in their office. "

He clasped his hands behind him as if he feared to have them free infront of him; her proximity seemed to invite those hands, but hiscountenance revealed that he was not in a mood then to give caresses. "Was, eh? May I ask what you are right now?"

"I'm doing my best to help in getting the Flagg drive down theriver--without trouble!"

"Trouble!" He was echoing her again; it was as if, in his waxing ire, hedid not dare to launch into a topic of his own. "What do you call it, what has been happening upriver?"

"I presume you mean that dams have been blown to get water for ourlogs. "

"Our dams!" he shouted. 

"I'm a stranger up here. I don't know whose dams they were. I have heardall kinds of stories about the rights in the dams, sir. "

"I can't say to you what I think--and what I want to say! You're a girl, confound it! I'll only make a fool of myself, talking to you about ourrights and our property. But I can say to you, about your own work, thatyou have been paid by our money to do a certain thing. "

She opened her eyes on him in offended inquiry. 

"I take it that you're the same one who called herself Miss Patsy Joneswhen you operated at Adonia. "

"I did use that name--for personal reasons. "

He did not moderate his wrath. "Here I find that Patsy Jones is MissKennard of the Vose-Mern agency. We have paid good money to the agency. When I settled for the last job I added two hundred dollars as a presentto you. "

"I have not received the gift, sir. It does not belong to me. I'm hereon my own account. I came north at my own expense without notifyingChief Mern that I was done with the agency; and strictly personalreasons, also, influenced me on that point. " She was trying hard to keepher poise, not loosing her emotions, preserving her dignity with a manof affairs and phrasing her replies with rather stilted diction. "I havemy good reasons for doing all I can in my poor power to help the Flaggdrive go through. "

The fact that her name was Kennard meant nothing to Rufus Craig, a NewYorker who had never bothered himself with the ancient tales of the Nodacountry. He did not understand what interest she could have in opposingthe Comas company; he could see only the ordinary and sordid side of theaffair. He looked her up and down and curled his lip. 

"You have been a traitor!"

"Not to the right, sir, when I found out what the right was. "

"I think you'll have a chance to say something about that in court, inyour defense! You have put the devil into those men and I'm giving youwarning. "

"I shall tell the truth in court, Mr. Craig. You may or you may notfind that promise a warning of my own to you and your corporationmethods. "

He blinked and looked away from her. "I'm busy! What are you doing hereon this dam? What do you want of me? Is it more detective work?" hesneered. "Are you getting ready to double-cross the new gang you'rehitched up with. For what reason you went over to 'em God only knows!"

"He does know!" she returned, earnestly. She stepped closer to him. "Icame down here to plead that you'll let the Flagg logs go through thisdam. "

"I will not. " His anger had driven him to the extreme of obstinacy. 

"Mr. Craig, that stand means a wicked fight between men who are not paidto fight. "

"You've had a lot of influence in making men blow our dams. Use thatinfluence in keeping 'em away from this one, and there'll be no fight. "He turned away, but she hastened forward and put herself in front ofhim. 

"I cannot do it, sir! That will be asking our men to give up all theyhave been struggling for. I don't know what the law is--or what the lawwill say. Please listen to me! Keep the men from fighting--this season!Then allow the law to put matters right up here. The Flagg logs havegone down the river every year before this one. The good Lord hasfurnished the water for all. Mr. Craig, out of the depths of my heart Ientreat you. " She had tried hard to keep womanly weakness away. Shewanted to conduct the affair on the plane of business good sense; butanxiety was overwhelming her; she broke down and sobbed frankly. 

What appeared to be recourse to woman's usual weapons served to make himmore furious. "The matter is before the courts. There's a principleinvolved. This dam stays as it is. That's final!"

"I'm pleading for a helpless old man who cannot come here to talk forhis own rights. "

"Look here, my girl, you're merely a smart trickster from the city--aturncoat who can't give one good excuse for being a traitor to youremployers. "

"I can give an excuse!"

"I've had enough of this, " he retorted, brutally, pricked by thereflection that his corporation would disown him and his methods if hefailed to make good. "Can't you see that you're driving me insane withyour girl's folly? You're lucky because I haven't brought officers uphere and ordered your arrest for conspiracy. You belong in jail alongwith that fool of a Latisan. " His rage broke down all reserve. "Do yousee what he did to me in New York?" He pointed to his bandaged face. "I'll admit that he did have some sort of an excuse. You have none. "

"I have this, " she said. "Mr. Craig! I am Echford Flagg'sgranddaughter. "

The shell of his skepticism was too thick!

"Do you think I am a complete fool? Flagg has no kin whatever!"

"How long have you been acquainted in these parts?"

"Three years, " he admitted; but he scowled his sentiment of utterdisbelief in her claim. 

"I am what I say I am, " she insisted. "Does that make any difference inyour stand here to-day?"

"Not a bit!"

They surveyed each other for some time, the mists swirling slowly abouttheir heads. 

"If I shed any more tears and do any more pleading, sir, you'll havegood reasons for believing that I have no blood of the Flaggs in me! Doyou still think I'm not what I say I am?"

He sliced the fog contemptuously with the edge of his palm. "You can'ttalk that stuff to me!" She understood the futility of appeal; he turnedfrom her and she looked for a moment on the bulging scruff of hisobstinate neck. 

"Very well, Mr. Craig! If talk can't convince you, I'll try anotherway!"

She ran along the string piece and the curtain of the fog closed inbehind her. 

During her absence from the deadwater there had been a rallying offorces. 

All the men were called in from the headworks and the booms. In thatfollowing conference over the methods of the impending battle theriverjacks were able to express themselves with more sanguinaryvehemence than would have been allowed in the presence of the girl. 

They felt that the fog was a particularly fortunate circumstance, andwith grim haste they set about taking advantage of the mask that wouldhide their advance. In single file they began their march down the rivershore. There were men who bore cant dogs; others were armed with pikepoles. But there was no intent to cut and thrust. It was to be a man'sfight with the flat of those weapons, with the tools of the job, honestthwacks given and taken. If one of them had ventured to pack an edgedweapon or a gun he would have been shamed among his fellows. 

Halfway to the dam they met the girl, hurrying back. She understood. Shedid not ask questions. But when they halted she explained her ownmovements. 

"I took it on myself to go to Director Craig, " she said. "I was hoping Imight be able to make him look at the thing in the right way. I did notapologize for you or for what has been done. If I could prevent thistrouble I would make any sacrifice of myself. "

"We know that, " stated Vittum, and he was indorsed by whole-souledmurmurs. 

"But he would not listen to me. And all I can say to you men is this:God bless you and help you!"

They thanked her and then they stood aside from the path, offering her away for retreat to the rear. 

But she turned and walked on toward the dam. She shook her head whenthey protested. "No, I claim it as my right to go with you. " She waseven brave enough to relieve the tenseness of the situation by a flashof humor. "I don't believe one of those Comas cowards will get nearenough to hurt any one of you. Haven't we found them out already? But ifanybody in this crew does get hurt, you'll find me in full charge of thefield hospital!"

There was no more talk after that; they trod softly on the duff underthe trees; they dodged the ledges where their spike-soled boots mighthave rasped. 

"Did you note where the main bunch is, miss?" whispered the old man ather side. 

"I saw only one man except Craig. The director was out on the dam, nearthe gates. "

"Where the cap'n is, there the gang must be. We'll use that tip. "

The men deployed as soon as they were in the open space near the end ofthe dam. 

Even though they had had the protection of the fog up to that point, they knew their attack could not be made wholly a surprise; they weredepending on their resoluteness and on being able to beat their way to acontrol of the gates. 

Two men appeared to them in the fog. 

"Now just a moment before you start something for which you'll besorry, " said one of the men. "I'm from the shire town and I'm attorneyfor the Comas corporation. " He pointed to a man at his side, who pulledaside his coat lapel and exhibited a badge. "This is a deputy sheriff. The courts are protecting this property by an injunction. "

"We've got only your word for that, " stated the old man. 

"You have been warned in law. That's all I'm here for. Now unless youkeep off this property you must take the consequences. "

The lawyer and the officer marched away and were effaced by the fog. 

"It's too bad it ain't a clear day, " remarked the spokesman to the crew. "We'd prob'ly be able to see the injunction that's guarding this dam. But I ain't going to let a lawyer tell me about anything I can't see. "

"But there's a thing I can see, " called one of the men who had goneskirmishing in the direction which the attorney and sheriff had taken. "Here's a Comas crowd strung along the wings o' the dam. I can see whatthey're lugging! Come on, men! It's a cant-dog, pick-pole fight. "

The attackers went into the fray with a yell. 

The defenders of the dam were on higher ground; some of them thrust withthe ugly weapons, others swung the strong staves and fenced. There wasthe smash of wood against wood, the clatter of iron. Men fell and rolledand came up! They who were bleeding did not seem to mind. 

"They're backing up, " yelled one of the Flagg crew. "Damn 'em, they'regetting ready to run, as usual!"

There did seem to be some sort of concerted action of retreat on thepart of the defenders. 

"Look out for tricks, " counseled Vittum, getting over the guard of anantagonist and felling him. 

A few moments later the line of the defense melted; the Comas men dodgedsomewhere into the fog. The assailants had won to the higher level ofthe dam's wing. 

And then that level melted, too!

It was a well-contrived trap--boards covered with earth--a surfacesupported by props which had been pulled away by ropes. More than halfthe Flagg men tumbled into deep and muddy water and threshed helplesslyin a struggling mass until the others laid down their weapons andpulled the drowning men out. 

The attacking army retired for repairs and grouped on the solid shore. Except for the roar of the sluiceway and the gasping of the men who weregetting breath there was something like calm after the uproar of thebattle. 

Out of the fog sounded the voice of Director Craig. 

"We have given you your chance to show how you respect the law. What youhave done after a legal warning is chalked up against you. Now that youhave proclaimed yourselves as outlaws I have something of my own toproclaim to you. I am up here----"

A stentorian voice slashed in sharply, and Craig's speech was cut off. 

The voice came from one who was veiled in the fog, but they all knew itfor Ward Latisan's. "Yes, Craig, you're here--here about five hoursahead of me because you had the cash to hire a special train. However, Iknow the short cuts for a man on horseback. I'm here, too!"

His men got a dim view of him in the mists; he loomed like a statue ofheroic size on the horse. Then he flung himself off and came runningdown the shore. 

He went straight to Lida and faced her manfully; but his eyes werehumbly beseeching and his features worked with contrite apology. "I knownow who you are, Miss Kennard. I don't mean to presume, in the case ofeither you or your men. But will you allow me to speak to them?"

"Yes, " she assented, trying to hold her poise, helped by his manner. 

He turned quickly from her eyes as if her gaze tortured him. 

"I have been a coward, men. I ran away from my job. I'm ashamed ofmyself. I can't square myself, but let me do my bit to-day. "

"I don't know what you can do--with that gang o' sneaks--after real menhave had to quit, " growled Vittum, unimpressed. 

"Maybe I'm sneak enough these days to know how to deal with 'em, "confessed Latisan, bitterly. "I stayed back there just now while thefight was on, but I knew a man fight wouldn't get us anything fromthem. "

The men of the crew made no demonstration; they were awkwardly silent. The arrival of the deserter who confessed that he had been a coward didnot encourage them at a time when they had failed ridiculously in theirfirst sortie. He had ceased to be a captain who could inspire. He wasone man more in a half-whipped crew, that was all. 

They who had been dumped over the dam dragged slimy mud from their facesand surveyed him with sullen rebuke, remembering sharply that he had runaway from the girl whose cause they had taken up. 

The others, their faces marked with welts from blows, gazed and sniffeddisparagingly. 

But when he spoke out to the girl and her crew they listened withincreasing respect because a quick shift to manly resolution impressedthem. 

His tone was tensely low and the noise of the tumbling water shieldedhis voice from eavesdroppers on the dam. "I stood back there in the fogand I heard what was said about an injunction. It's bad business, running against the courts, men. That injunction hangs over the crew ofEchford Flagg. I am not one of that crew. What I may do is on my ownaccount, and I'll stand the blame of it. All I ask is that you stepaside and let me alone. "

"That ain't the way we want to play this game, " declared Vittum. 

"It isn't a square game, men, and that's why you mustn't play it. Itisn't a riverman fight to-day. I came north from New York on the trainwith Craig. He brought a gang of gunmen with him. They're hidden therein the fog. He means to go the limit, hoping to get by with it becauseyou made the first attack. It's up to me from now on. "

"What in the name of the horn-headed Sancho do you think you can do allalone against guns?" demanded Vittum, scornfully. 

"Think?" repeated Latisan. "I've had plenty of time for thinking on myway up here. Let me alone, I say!"

Lida went to him and put her hand on his arm, and he trembled; it seemedalmost like a caress. But by no tenderness in his eyes or his expressionwas he indicating that he considered himself back on his former footingwith her. 

"Miss Kennard, don't keep me from trying to square myself with the Flaggcrew, if I can. I'm not hoping that anything can square me with you;it's past hope. "

He moved away, but she clung to him. "I must know what you intend todo. I'll not accept a reckless sacrifice--no, I'll not. "

"One evening in Adonia you gave me a lecture on duty and self-respect, Miss Kennard. I wish I'd taken your advice then. But that advice hasnever left my thoughts. I'm taking it now. I entreat you, don't let meshame myself again. This is before men, " he warned her, in low tones. "Give me my fighting chance to make good with them--I beg you!"

He set back his shoulders, turned from her, and shouted Craig's nametill the Comas director replied. 

"Craig, yon in the fog! Do you hear?"

"I hear you, Latisan!"

"Do our logs go through Skulltree by your decent word to us?"

"I'll never give that word, my man!"

"Then take your warning! The fight is on--and this time I'm in it. "

"I'm glad to be informed. I have an announcement of my own to make. Listen!" He gave a command. Instantly, startlingly, in the fog-shroudedspaces of the valley rang out a salvo of gun fire. Many rifles spat. Thesound rolled in long echoes along the gorge and was banged back by themountain sides. 

"Latisan, those bullets went into the air. If you and your men come ontothis dam----"

"There's only one kind of a fight up here among honest men--and youwon't stand for it, eh?"

"We've got your number! You're declared outlaws. These men will shoot tokill. "

In the chorus from the Flagg crew there were howls and groans. 

"And argument won't bring to you any sense of reason and decency, willit?" demanded the drive master. 

"We shall shoot to kill!" insisted the magnate of the Comas corporation. 

"All right! If those are your damnable principles, I'll go according to'em. "

The girl caught his hands when he started away. "You must not! No matterwhat you are--no matter what you know I am, now. He'll understand whenwe tell him--down there! There's more to life than logs!"

"I have my plans, " he assured her, quietly. "You must realize how muchthis thing means to me now. "

The unnatural silence in the ranks of the Flagg crew, after Latisan'sdeclaration had been voiced, provoked Craig to venture an apprehensiveinquiry. "You don't intend to come ramming against these guns, do you?"

"Hold your guns off us! I'm going away. And these men are going withme. "

"That's good judgment. "

"But I'm coming back! I won't sneak up on you. That isn't my style offighting. You'll hear me on the way. I'll be coming down almighty hardon my heels. Remember that, Craig!"

Lida was at his side when he marched away up the shore toward the Flaggcamp at the deadwater, and his men trailed him, mumbling their commentson the situation and wondering by what sort of miracle he would be ableto prevail over armed gangsters who were paid to kill. 

"I'm going to ask you all to excuse me for playing a lone hand from nowon, boys, " said the drive master, standing in front of them when theywere gathered at the camping place. "If they weren't working a dirtytrick with their guns, I'd have you along with me just as I intended inthe past. But you have had your fun while I've been making a fool ofmyself! Give me my chance now!"

He bowed to Lida and walked up the shore alone. No one stayed him. Thegirl locked together her trembling fingers, straining her eyes till hedisappeared. 

He knew the resources and methods of the drive. Soon he came upon abateau pulled high on the river bank. There were boxes in the bateau, covered by a tarpaulin whose stripings of red signaled danger. He founda sack in the craft. He pried open one of the boxes and out of thesawdust in which they were packed he drew brown cylinders and tuckedthem carefully into the sack. The cylinders were sticks of dynamite. Thesack was capacious and he stuffed it full. The bag sagged heavily withthe weight of the load when he swung it over his shoulder and started upthe bank, away from the river. 

When Latisan walked away from Lida the mist again had lent its illusion, and he seemed to become of heroic size before the gray screen hid himfrom her sight. 

Vittum tried pathetically to relieve the stress of the silence. 

"The last peek at him made him look big enough to do 'most anything hesets out to do. "

"Yes! But how can he fight them all single-handed?" She was pale andtrembling. 

"If I'm any judge, by the direction he took just now he has gone up andtapped our stock of canned thunder, miss. And if I ain't mistook abouthis notions, he is going to sound just about as big as he looked when wegot that last peek!"

The rivermen did not lounge on the ground, as they usually did when theywere resting. They stood, tensely waiting for what Latisan's manner ofresolution had promised. 

Lida asked no more questions; she was unable to control her tones. Shehad been given a hint of Ward's intentions by what the old man had saidabout the "canned thunder. " She did not dare to be informed as to theprobable details of those intentions; to know fully the nature of therisk he was running would have made the agony of her apprehensivenessunendurable. 

It seemed to them, waiting there, that what Latisan had undertaken wasnever going to happen. They were not checking off the time in minutes;for them time was standing still. The far grumble of waters in the gorgemerely accentuated the hush--did not break upon the profound silence. When a chickadee lilted near at hand the men started nervously and thegirl uttered a low cry; even a bird's note had power to trip theirnervous tension. 

The sound for which they were waiting came to them at last. 

It was a sound with a thud in it!

Listeners who possessed an imagination would have found a suggestion ofthe crash of the hammer of Thor upon the mountain top. 

"He looked big enough for that when he left us!" muttered the old man. He had never heard of the pagan divinity whom men called Thor. His mindwas on the river gladiator who had declared that he would come downheavy on his heels when he started. 

The brooding opacity which wrapped the scene made the location of thesound uncertain; but it was up somewhere among the hills. The echoesbattered to and fro between the cliffs. 

Before those echoes died the sound was repeated. 

"He's coming slow, but he's come sure!" Vittum voiced their thoughts. "Them's the footsteps of Latisan!"

On they came! And as they thrust their force upon the upper ledges therewas a little jump of the earth under the feet of those who stood andwaited. 

There was something indescribably grim and bodeful in those isochronalbatterings of the solid ground. The echoes distracted the thoughts--madethe ominous center of the sounds a matter of doubt. That uncertaintyintensified the threat of what was approaching the dam of Skulltree. 

There were other sounds, after a few moments. Rifles were crackingpersistently; but it was manifestly random firing. 

The old man stepped to Lida and grasped her hand and held it. "Don't be'feared for him, miss. They're only guessing! He'll be knowing theledges--every lift of 'em that's betwixt him and them. They'll never gethim with their popguns. But he'll get _them_!" he declared, with venom. "I wonder what Craig is thinking now, with his old bug eyes poking intothat fog and doing him as much good as if he was stabbing a mill pondwith his finger!"

The rifle fire died away, after a desultory patter of shots. 

"They're running!" said one of the crew. "They must be on the run!"

"You bet they're running, " agreed the old man. "The Three C's hasn't gotmoney enough to hire men, to stand up in front of what's tromping downtoward Skulltree! Heavier and heavier on his heels!"

Measuredly slow, inexorably persistent, progressed the footsteps of thegiant blasts. 

Latisan's men needed no eye-proof in order to understand the method. 

The drive master was hurling the dynamite sticks far in advance ofhimself and to right and to left, making his own location a puzzlingmatter. The men had seen him bomb incipient jams in that fashion, lighting short fuses and heaving the explosive to a safe distance. 

The blasts were nearer and still nearer, and more frequent; the groundquaked under their feet; in the intervening silences they heard thewhine and the rustle of upthrown litter in the air, the patterings andplops of debris raining into the spaces of the deadwater. 

Behind the attack was the menace of the bodefully unseen--thelawlessness of the fantastically unprecedented. 

"I don't blame the fellers with the guns, if they have quit, " commentedVittum. "They might as well try to lick the lightning in athundercloud. "

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Mern's mercenaries were not cowards. They had served valiantly as guardsof strike breakers, had fought in many forays, had winged theirattackers, and had been winged in return. At mill gates they hadresisted mobs and had endured missiles; they had ridden on trucks, protecting goods and drivers, through lanes of howling, hostilehumanity; they had thrown the cordon of their bodies around dockworkers. 

But the gunmen's exploits in intrepidity had been, of and in the cities. 

The environment at Skulltree was the Great Open. 

They were not backed by solidity or barricaded behind walls. There wasnot the reassurance of good, honest earth under their feet; they wereprecariously perched in space, so it seemed--standing on the stringersof the dam, peering into a void of shrouding mists and thunderouswaters, the wilderness all about them!

In their battles in past times they had been able to see the foe; nowthey were called on to fight a noise--the bodeful detonations of blasts, to right, to left--here and there. 

There was a foe; he was on his way. They did not know what sort of ruinhe purposed to wreak as the climax of his performance. Craig himself didnot know, so he affirmed in reply to anxious queries, and the boss'suncertainty and increasing consternation added to the peculiarpsychological menace of the thing. 

"Give us orders, Mr. Craig!" pleaded the captain of the guards. "Show ussomething to fight against. How many of 'em are there? Where are they?

"It's that damnable Latisan, working single-handed. I'm sure of it. Goget him!"

"If you don't get him, he's going to blow up this dam, " stated thefrightened lawyer. 

A far-flung bomb of dynamite landed in the water and shot a geyserspraying against the fog pall. 

"I'm taking that guess for gospel, " affirmed the chief gunman, wipingspray from his face. "Mr. Craig, you can't expect us to hang on here, facing a thing like what's coming!"

"Shoot him!" gasped the Comas director, but he was revolving on unsteadyfeet and the aimlessness of his gaze revealed that he had no definiteidea of procedure; his incertitude wrecked all the courage of hissupporters. 

"It can't be done, sir. Not in this fog! We'd better get ashore----"

"And let him wreck this dam?"

"If he's going to wreck it, we'd better be off it. "

In his fear Craig became insulting, and that attitude ended his controlof the situation. "You're hired with money, you cowards! Now earn it!"

"This is where your money can't buy something for you, Mr. Craig, " thecaptain of the gunmen declared, and then he led the retreat of his squadacross Skulltree dam and into the woods on the far shore from theportentous, invisible peril. 

And with dire extremity clearing for the moment his clouded vision, enabling him to look squarely at the matter of service and loyalty as hewas able to command it, Craig knew that when his money failed him in thenorth country he had no other resource. He had blinked that fact in thepast, having found that in ordinary affairs his dollars were dominant;but this extraordinary event was knocking out from under him all theprops of confidence; he felt bitterly alone all of a sudden. 

"We'll have to vamoose off this dam, " declared the deputy sheriff. 

"You've got your duty as an officer of the law, " shouted Craig, desperately feeling that in the case of this man, at least, he wasmaking an appeal to something that was not covered by a moneyconsideration. 

"And I've got my common sense, too!" retorted the sheriff. He startedaway. 

"So have I, " agreed the attorney, a lawyer who had obeyed a telegram andhad joined the Craig expedition at the shire town of the county thenight before. 

"There's an injunction!" stormed the field director. 

"And there's a lunatic with a sack of dynamite. " The lawyer crooked hisarm across his face; a missile from the white void had splashed near byand water sprayed him. "You have told me that Latisan is no longer inFlagg's service. I'm not depending now on law, Mr. Craig, I'm dependingon my legs. "

He fled on the trail of the officer. But he left a pregnant thought inCraig's mind: Latisan was not an employee of Echford Flagg. As a matterof fact, Craig owned to himself--his clarity of vision persisting inthat time of overwhelming disaster, in the wreck of the hopes built onthe power of his money--that the thing had now become almost wholly apersonal, guerrilla warfare between himself and Latisan; and when thetruth came out, if the matter were forced to that issue, Craig wouldlack the backing of authority fully as much as Latisan lacked it then, in his assault on property. The bluff of the guns had not worked! Craigwas realizing that in hiring such men, as he had on the spur of themoment, his rage instead of his business good judgment had prevailed. 

There were the repeated warnings of his superiors! The law would beobliged to investigate if Skulltree dam were wrecked, and would probe tothe bottom of the moving reasons! Scandal, rank scandal! Craig couldbehold President Horatio Marlow as he sat that day with upraised, monitory forefinger, urging the touchy matter of credits and reputation. Craig could hear Dawes, the attorney: "That talk puts the thing up toyou square-edged!"

Down from the mist-shrouded cliff was advancing a vengeful man whowalked with the footsteps of thunder. 

As Craig had looked ahead, basing his judgment on his experience withmen and matters, it had seemed an easy matter to guard Skulltree withmoney and law. But in this astounding sortie of Latisan's, Comas moneywas of no use and Craig was developing an acute fear of the law which, invoked, would take matters into court. Over and over, his alarmedconvictions pounded on his caution. 

He crouched under a rain of dirt and pebbles--then he ran away. 

When he reached the far shore he jumped into a bateau that was pulled upthere. With all the power of his lungs he yelled for rowers. He wasobliged to confess loudly and unreservedly that he was giving up thefight--was seeking a way of stopping Latisan--before any of his menwould come from the shelter of woods and fog and serve him. 

He cursed them with the vigor of a master of galley slaves when thebateau was frothing along the deadwater. Then he bellowed into the fog, seeking a replying hail which would locate for him the Flagg crew. Therewas no repentance in him; his was a panic of compromise--a headlong rushto save himself from consequences. There was just as much uncertaintyabout what Latisan would do as there was about the dynamiter's exactlocation in that fog. 

Therefore, Craig announced himself with raucous staccato of: "I quit! Iquit! Get that man! Tell him I quit!"

Men hailed from the shore and their voices guided the rowers. Craigleaped from the bow of the bateau and waded for the last few yards. 

"Go stop him! Bring him here!" He tossed his arms. 

"Huh!" scoffed old Vittum. "That's a job for somebody who can tell whichway the next stroke of lightning is heading. "

"I'll give five hundred dollars to the man who'll get to him and stophim before he smashes that dam!"

Craig added to the other visions which had been torturing him thepossible catastrophe of the Comas logs roaring through past the mouth ofa useless canal; he could look ahead still farther and see the grins ofthe sawmill men down the Noda, setting their own prices. 

Once more Craig was finding that his money was getting him nothing thatday, and his sense of helplessness was revealed by his sagging jowls anddolorous eyes; and he had always depended on what money could buy!

There was no alacrity for service shown by any man of Flagg's crew. 

"We're not afraid, " said Felix Lapierre, breaking on Craig's furioustaunts. "We have promise' to keep off and let him make good forhimself--the lone hand--that's it!"

"That's it!" agreed Vittum. 

"He has made good, " bleated the Comas man. "If he goes any farther itwill only be bad. "

The dialogue was taking place disjointedly in the silences between theblasts. But Craig made himself heard above the next explosion. "He'sripping hell out of that dam now. Get to him. A thousand dollars for theman who stops him!"

"No man in this crew needs any of your money!" Lida was defiantly infront of the Comas director. "But if you're ready to listen to reasonafter this----"

She broke off and turned from him. 

Before they realized that she had volunteered, she was away in the fog. 

In a moment they heard her voice, raised in a thrilling call, appealingto the avenger. 

"That'll fetch him back--even if he was two miles deep in hell, " Craigwas informed by one of the men. "It's a lucky thing for the Three C'sthat she's on the job to-day. "

The Comas director stood holding to a tree. He shivered every time anexplosion clanged its echoes from cliff to cliff. 

And when, after a waiting that was agony, the dreadful bombardmentceased, Craig staggered to the bateau and sat down on its prow. 

"I don't blame you for looking that way, " said Vittum. "If Latisan hadbeen driven to get that dam to-day you would have lost your drive forthe canal; and, before God and your directors, you would have beenresponsible!"

When Latisan came out of the fog he had put away, somewhere, the sackwhich had held destruction. 

When he had gone away from them, entering upon the perils of hisundertaking, he was calm and resolute. Now that he was back, a championwho had prevailed single-handed, he was pale, trembling, and broken;they did not understand, at first. 

Lida came with him, trying to soothe him, pleading and protesting; heconstantly muttered broken speech and seemed to be trying to control amood that was half frenzy. He left her and stumbled across the openspace to Craig. 

"Everything else you have done--it's nothing as bad as this last. Yousent her where you didn't dare to go yourself. Good God! you Comassneak, I ought to kill you where you sit! For all you cared you weremaking me a murderer of an innocent girl!"

"You had to be stopped. She went before I knew what she was going todo. "

"And if she hadn't gone on her own account you would have tried to hireher to do it! It's always a case of what you can buy with yourmoney--that's your style, Craig. Now you're up against something youcan't buy. I'm still working alone--understand that? If you want toreport me as an outlaw, go ahead! I'm giving you squarer warning thanyou gave me on the Tomah when you smashed the Latisans. If I smash thatdam down there I'll be smashing you! I'll do it if you put as much as atoothpick in the way of the independent drives. I'll blow the bottom outof your canal, in the bargain. And if you think you or your gang canlocate me over there"--he pointed in the direction of the hills of thewatershed between the rivers basins--"try it! I know every hole in thosehills. I'll keep bombing your drives till you can't keep a man on thejob. That's the kind of an outlaw I am from now on. "

"It's between us now, Latisan. I'll own up to it. It has come to that. "

"Yes, it's between renegades. I'm admitting that I'm one, " retortedWard. 

Craig stood up. If there was any of the spirit of Three C's bluster leftin him he was concealing it successfully. 

"Latisan, all these men have heard me say that I quit. I lost my headand was pushing the thing too far, considering it from a businessstandpoint. Can I be any more honest than that?"

"It sounds all right, but I take stock in you only to the extent thatyou'll stay in line if I stay on the job. I shall stay, as I have warnedyou. "

"Suppose we talk turkey about the common rights at Skulltree!"

"You'll have to talk with Miss Kennard about her grandfather'sinterests. I'm simply a chance comer here!"

Latisan walked away and leaned against a tree. 

Craig approached Lida. "We have already had some talk about the matter, I believe. I retreat from the position I have taken. Evidently we mustmake mutual allowances. What have you thought out about the details of aplan to let your logs through?"

The girl did not reply; she had no plans; she did not understand suchmatters. 

"We'll have to decide on the head of water you'll need, and I take ityou'll allow us enough for the canal so that we can save our drive. "Craig was trying hard to offer compromise, but he was not able torepress all his sarcastic venom. "There's the matter of sorting and theother details. I'll have to ask for your views, Miss Kennard, becauseany misunderstanding may be dangerous, so I have been informed. "

She looked helplessly from Craig to Latisan. The latter's aloofness, which he had displayed ever since he first appeared to her that day, hispresent peculiar relationship to the affair, his insistence that hemust serve alone, made her problem more complex. Her vivid yearning wasto give all into Latisan's keeping, but she did not dare to propose it. 

She looked at Vittum and Felix, seeking advice. The French Canadiansmiled and shrugged his shoulders, evading responsibility. He did notunderstand such matters, either. 

"I suppose I might be able to dig up some sort o' general ideas, give metime enough, " said Vittum, when her eyes questioned him anxiously. "ButI'm sort of hazy right now. " He winked at her and ducked his head toindicate Latisan. 

"I'm afraid!" she phrased the lament with a doleful motion of her lipsrather than with spoken words. 

"It can't be said but what he'll be impartial--the best one to ask, "mumbled Vittum, stepping close to her. "He ain't hired by either side, as I understand it!" He was ironic, but there was a suggestion which shegrasped desperately. She went to Latisan. Their conversation was in anundertone and the bystanders did not hear the words. 

When she returned to Craig, Lida, confident in her new poise, reassured, informed in a fashion which fortified her self-reliance, met the Comasman with a demeanor which did credit to the granddaughter of EchfordFlagg. 

"I have not tried to involve Mr. Latisan in any way. I have asked hisadvice as an expert. " She looked straight into the shifting eyes of theComas director. "Last fall he was at Tech, and took a special course inhydraulic engineering. You know that, of course, Mr. Craig!" She pausedtill he bowed to admit the truth with which she insisted on displacingthe lie which had followed Latisan in the north country. "And Mr. Latisan has had a great deal of practical experience on his own drives. It seems absolutely necessary to have a sorting gap here, with men ofboth crews handling the logs. When our timber is through thesluiceway--the daily run of logs--we are to be given a head of waterwhich will take us through the gorge. As to the logs upriver--therear--we are willing to join drives with you, Mr. Craig, so that we mayuse all the water together. " She set back her shoulders. "That plan willserve us this season. For another season the independents will have lawsof their own from the legislature. I'm quite sure that the independentshave waked up and know now what some special legislative acts can do fortheir interests. "

"I beg your pardon for breaking in, Miss Kennard, " said Latisan, fromhis distance. "But this seems to be the time for me to say to Mr. Craig, in the presence of witnesses, that the same plan goes for the Tomahregion. The independents over there can't be licked, sir. "

"Nor the Latisans, " shouted somebody in the Flagg crew. 

That friendly corroboration of the young man's inmost determinationserved as a challenge. The drive master walked toward Craig and shookhis fist. "No, nor the Latisans! We have a sawmill, and we're notworrying about the logs to feed it. But you understand, Mr. Craig, thatthe independents must have gangway on the river for their cut. And weknow how to get gangway!"

He went back to his tree and resumed his whittling. 

"To me the future looks very promising, " said Lida. "We're all a littledisturbed now, Mr. Craig, but we're coming to a perfect understanding. Don't you think so?"

Craig did not reply at once, and she added, with ingenuous affectationof desiring to bring forward reasons for his agreement, "If the Comascompany does join drives with us you will have the help of a perfectlywonderful crew, Mr. Craig. I'm told that we're a week or ten days aheadof the usual time--and the men have never seemed to be considering merewages!"

The Three C's director rolled his eyes, avoiding her candidly provokingregard. He shifted his gaze to Latisan, who had turned his back on thegroup and was still whittling placidly, propped against a tree by hisshoulder. "Wonderful teamwork, " growled the Comas man. "But sticking outfor anything else will be a fool stunt. Miss Kennard, there's a lawyerover there in the woods, somewhere! The thing to do now seems to be tohunt him up so that he can help us to pass papers of agreement. " Heswung his hand to indicate the bateau. "Will you go with me?"

She hesitated. Then she smiled amiably on Craig. "I think I'd ratherwalk along the path, sir. I'll meet you and the lawyer at this end ofthe dam. "

Craig trudged down to the boat and was swept away into the fog. 

Latisan did not turn; he kept on whittling. 

"Mr. Latisan!" she invited. "May I have your company to the dam? I'msorry to trouble you, but I may be obliged to refer to you for furtheradvice. "

"I feel called on to remark, " said old Vittum, always an irrepressiblecommentator when comment seemed to be necessary, speaking after Latisanand Lida had walked away into the mist--"I'll say to all that she knowsher business. "

"But it was Latisan who advised her, " objected a literalist. 

"Hell! I ain't speaking of this drive, " snapped the old man. "I'mcomplimenting her on a job where she doesn't need anybody's advice!"

CHAPTER THIRTY

The sun at meridian that day burned away the mists, for it was May andthe high sun was able to prevail. 

The sluiceway of Skulltree dam was open and in the caldron of the gorgea yeasty flood boiled and the sunlight painted rainbows in the driftingspume. Rolling cumbrously, end over end, at the foot of the sluice, lifting glistening, dripping flanks, sinking and darting through thewhite smother of the waters, the logs of the Flagg drive had begun theirflight to the holdbooms of Adonia. 

Lida and the taciturn squire whom she had drafted had climbed to thecliffs above the gorge in order to behold the first fruits of thecompact which had been concluded with Craig and the Comas. Latisan wentwith her to the cliff because she had asked him to show her the way. Hismanner with her was not exactly shyness; she had been studying him, trying anxiously to penetrate his thoughts. He was reserved, butawkwardly so; it was more like embarrassment; it was a mingling ofdeference and despair in the face of a barrier. 

It was warm up there where the sun beat against the granite, and shepulled off the jacket which had been one of her credentials in the northcountry. "I took the liberty of wearing it--and the cap. I'll not needthem any more. "

She took the cap from her head. The breeze which had followed the calmof the mist fluttered a loose lock of her hair across her forehead andthe sun lighted a glint within the tress. He gazed and blinked. 

"I heard you had them--I heard it in Mern's office in New York, " hesaid, with poor tact. 

She offered them and he took the garments, clutching the cap and holdingthe jacket across his arm. 

"I don't blame you for looking at me as you do, " she went on, demurelyand deprecatingly feminine at that moment. She smoothed her blouse withboth hands and glanced down at her stained and ragged skirt. "It's myonly warm dress and I've lived and slept in it--and I haven't minded abit when the coffee slopped. I was trying to do my best. "

He rocked his head voicelessly, helplessly--striving to fit speech tothe thoughts that surged in him. 

Then she made a request which perturbed him still more: "You came uphere on horseback, I think you said. May I borrow the horse?"

"Do you mean that you're going away?" he gulped. 

She spread her hands and again glanced down at her attire. She washiding deeper motives behind the thin screen of concern for herwardrobe, trying to make a jest of the situation, and not succeeding. "You must own up that I need to go shopping. "

He turned from her to the chasm where the logs were tumbling along. 

"And there's nothing to keep me here any longer, Mr. Latisan, now thatyou have come back!"

He faced her again, swinging with a haste that ground his heels sharplyon the ledge. But she put up her hand when he opened his mouth. 

"Do you think it will do us any good to bring up what has happened? Idon't. I implore you not to mention it. You have come back to yourwork--it's waiting for you. After what you have done to-day you'll neverneed to lower your eyes before any man on this river. In my heart, whenI gave you your cap and jacket, I was asking you to take back your work. I ask you with all the earnestness that's in me! Won't you do it?" Therewas a hint of a sob in her tones, but her eyes were full of theconfidence of one who felt that she was not asking vainly. 

He did not hesitate. But words were still beyond the reach of histongue. He dragged off the billycock hat which he had bought in town andscaled it far out into the turbid flood. He pulled off the wrinkled coatof the ready-made suit and tossed it down the side of the cliff. Withthe cap on his head and buckling the belt of the jacket he stood beforeher. "The men gave me my chance to-day; you're giving me a bigger one. "

"Then I'm only wasting your time--up here!"

It had not been in Latisan's mind that he would make any reference tothe past; she had implored him to keep silent and he was determined toobey. He was rigidly resolved to offer no plea for the future; this wasthe granddaughter--presumably the heiress of Echford Flagg, to be takeninto her own after this service she had rendered. A Latisan of thebroken Latisans had no right to lift his eyes to her!

If there had been a twinkle of hope for his comfort in her attitude ofreliance on him after he had arrived at Skulltree, there was none atthat moment, for she had become distinctly dignified and distant. Heswung back to that bitter conclusion which he had made a part of hisconvictions when he had pondered on the matter in his little room in NewYork--her frantically pledged affection had been only a part of hercampaign of sacrifice. He was not blaming her for the pretense--he wasnot calling it deceit. She had fought for her own with such weapons asshe could command in a time of stress. 

He followed her meekly when she hurried down from the cliff. 

On the path which led back to the Flagg camp a breathless cookee metthem. "A team is here from Adonia, miss. It's the big bays--Mr. Flagg'shorses. "

Instinctively she turned to Ward, making him her prop as she had donepreviously on that day. 

"I've been expecting it, " he told her. "It's just what your grandfatherwould do after he got word that Craig had gone through Adonia with hisroughnecks. Mr. Flagg wouldn't leave you here to face what wasthreatened. "

"I didn't tell my grandfather who I was. Dick promised to keep thesecret, " she faltered. 

"Remember! Words have wings up in this region! I explained to you once, Miss Kennard, and you know what happened when I let loose that flock ofthem at Adonia--like a fool. I don't dare to think about it!"

He paced away from her; then he returned, calm again. "Mr. Flagg musthave heard--he would keep in touch with what has been going on uphere--and after he knew, it would be his style to let you go ahead andwin out. He would understand what it is you're trying to do. His sendingthat team, now that he is afraid of danger, proves that he knows. "

When she ran on ahead Latisan did not try to keep up with her; he wasonce again the drive boss of Flagg's crew, a hired man; he had no excusefor meddling in the family affairs of his employers, he reflected, andin his new humility he was avoiding anything which might savor ofinquisitive surveillance. 

The man who had put the horses to the jumper in Adonia, the man whom sheknew as Jeff, was the deputy whom Flagg had sent. He had come inhaste--that was plain to her; he was mopping the flanks of the sweatingbays. 

The deference with which he touched his cap informed her fully as to theamount of knowledge possessed by the Flagg household. He unbuttoned, oneafter the other, his overcoat, his inner coat, his waistcoat, and fromthe deepest recess in his garments produced a sealed letter; hisprecautions in regard to it attested the value he put on a communicationfrom the master to the master's granddaughter. 

The envelope was blank. 

The men of the shift that had been relieved stood about her in a circle. The arrival of the bays was an event which matched the other sensationalhappenings of the crowded day, and she was conscious that, withoutmeaning to be disrespectful, the men were hankering to be taken whollyinto her confidence--were expecting that much favor from her. 

Granddaughter of Echford Flagg she might be--but more than all she wasone of the crew, that season, a companion who had inspired them, toiledwith them, and triumphed with them. If any more good news had come they, as friends, were entitled to know it, their expressions told her. Theywere distinctly conveying to her their notion that she should standthere and read the letter aloud. 

The hand which clutched the missive was trembling, and she was filledwith dread in spite of the consoling thought that she had achieved somuch. She was afraid to open the letter and she escaped out of thecircle of inquiring faces and hid herself in her tent; even the crudeflourish of importance displayed by the manner of Jeff in delivering thecommunication to her had its effect in making her fears more profound. The whims of old age--Flagg had dwelt on the subject! She rememberedthat when she was in the big house with Latisan, her grandfather hadbeat on the page of the Bible and had anathematized the ties of familyin his arraignment of faults. He had been kind, after his fashion, whenshe was incognito, but now that he knew----

She ripped the envelope from the letter and opened the sheet; it was abroad sheet and had been folded many times to make it fit the envelope. 

It was more like rude print than handwriting. At first she thought thather grandfather had been able to master a makeshift chirography with hisleft hand. But boldly at the top of the sheet, as a preface of apology, was this statement: "Dicktated to Dick and excuse looks and mesteaks. Hese a poor tool at writtin. "

Crouching on her bed of boughs, the sheet on her knees, her handsclutched into her wind-rumpled hair above her temples, she read theletter which her grandfather had contrived with the help of his draftedamanuensis. 

 To my Grand-daughter. He have to use short words and few. Dick is slow and can't spel. 

Lida's thoughts were running parallel with her reading, and sheremembered that, in those letters of hideous arraignment which she hadfound in her mother's effects, Echford Flagg's own spelling wasfantastically original. But under the layers of ugly malediction she hadfound pathos: he said that he'd had no schooling of his own, and on thataccount had been led to turn his business over to the better butdishonest ability of Alfred Kennard. 

Reading on, she could picture the scene--the two old men toiling withpathetic earnestness over the task of preparing that letter; here andthere, the words only partially deleted by lines run across them, wereevidences that in his flustration under the master's vitrioliccomplaints, old Dick had confused comment with dictated matter--and hadincluded comment in his unthinking haste to get everything down. Threetimes a "Dam your pelt" had been written and crossed out. 

 He tell you I knew you when I gave you my old cant dog. 

Lida gasped when she read the blunt declaration. She might have guessedthat Echford Flagg would have repulsed a stranger; he had disguised histrue sentiments under the excuse of an old man's whim!

 I let you go. It was making a squair deal between you and me. Nicola sent me a man to tell me how you had gorn north with his men and so I took Dick back after I had fired him. 

It was at this point that a particularly prominent "Dam your pelt" wasinterjected. 

 The old fool would have blabbed to me what you told him to keep quiet about. He aint fit to be trusted with any secrits. But he was scard to tell me you was Lida. I told him. But the Comas helyun has gorn past here with men and guns. Let him have the logs. I want you, my granddaughter. Come home. 

Tears flooded her eyes. "Come home!" Old Dick had printed those words inbold letters. 

 This is in haist but he has been 2 hours writtin it and so I send Jeff to bring you. Dont wait. Kepe away from danjur. Come home. 

And old Dick, the toiling scribe, had smuggled in at the bottom of thesheet a postscript, a vicarious confession which Echford Flagg did notknow how to make, "Hese cryin and monein for you. Come home!"

It was as if those two summoning words were spoken in her ear, plaintively and quaveringly. 

She ran from the tent, carrying her little bag and the cant dog scepterof the Flaggs. 

"Can you start back at once?" she called to Jeff. 

"Aye! It's orders. "

She saw Latisan at the shore, directing the movements of the men; he wasonce more the drive master, his cant dog in his hand, terse in hiscommands, obeyed in his authority. 

He pulled off his cap and walked to meet her when she hastened towardhim. 

"I'm going back to Adonia. "

"My guess was right, you see!"

"Are you coming soon to report?--Shall I tell my grandfather----" Shehalted in her query as if she were regretting the eagerness in her tone. 

"I'll leave it to you to tell him all that has happened up here. But youmay say to him, if you will, that I'm staying with the drive from nowon. "

Her charioteer swung the big bays and headed them toward the mouth ofthe tote road, halting them near her. 

Her emotions were struggling from the fetters with which she tried tobind them. Those men standing around! She wished they would go awayabout their business, but they surveyed her with the satisfied air ofpersons who felt that they belonged in all matters that were on foot. 

Latisan was repressed, grave, keeping his place, as he had assigned astatus to himself. She was glad when old Vittum broke upon the silencethat had become embarrassing. "It won't be like what it has been, afteryou're gone, Miss Lida Kennard. But I feel that I'm speaking for the menwhen I say that you're entitled to a lay-off, and if you'll be out onthe hill where you can wave your hand to us when we ride the leaderlogs into the hold-boom, we'll all be much obligated to you! I wasthinking of calling for three cheers, but I remember how this ideaseemed to hit better. " He led the procession of men past her; theyscrubbed their toil-roughened palms across their breasts and gave hersilent pledges when they grasped her hand. "It's sort of a familyparty, " said Vittum. 

There was inspiration for her in that suggestion. This was no time forconvention, for placid weighing of this consideration against that, forstrait-laced repression. The environment encouraged her. Her exultingjoy drove her on. 

Once before, forced by the intensity of her need, she had made smallaccount of convenances. But she acknowledged that a half truth hadnearly compassed destruction of her hopes and the ruin of a man; a liarhad taken advantage of an equivocal position. But now the whole truthabout her was clear. Her identity was known--her motives were beyond allquestion. And there were no vindictive liars among those loyal followerswho had come storming down the river for the sake of her cause. 

If she did what she had in her mind to do, what was it except theconfirmation of a pledge and the carrying out of a promise?

But when she looked appealingly up at Latisan he was steadfastly staringpast her. Her impulses were already galloping, but the instant prick ofpique was the final urge which made the impulses fairly run away. 

She reached out and took Ward's hand and pressed it between her palms. 

"If it's because I'm Lida Kennard instead of the table girl at Brophy'stavern, you're foolish, " she whispered, standing on tiptoe. "I gave youmy promise. But perhaps you think it isn't binding because there was noseal, such as I put on that lawyer's paper down at the dam. Well--then--here's the seal. "

She flung her arms about his neck and kissed his cheek. 

"Now let the winged word take flight through the region!" she toldherself. No man could misunderstand the declaration of that kiss!

When Latisan came to his senses sufficiently to move his muscles, sheavoided his groping arms and ran to the wagon. For a moment the big bayscrouched, expecting the whistling sweep of the whip, bending their necksto watch the passenger climbing to her seat. 

"Wait!" begged Latisan. He stumbled toward the wagon, staring at her, tripped by the earth ridges to which he paid no heed. 

"Yes!" she promised. And then in tones that were low and thrilling andsignificant with honest pledge she said, "I'll wait for you--at home--athome!"

Jeff obeyed her quick command and swung the whistling whip, and Latisanstood gazing after her. 

The men respected his stunned absorption in his thoughts. They wentscattering to their work. Felix walked with Vittum. 

"Ba gor!" The French Canadian vented the ejaculation after taking adeep breath. "When she say it to him--as she say it--it make goose fleshwiggle all over maself!"

"As I have said!" Vittum was trudging along, his eyes on a big plug oftobacco from which he was paring a slice. "As I have said!" He slid theslice into his mouth from the blade of the knife. "She knows herbusiness!"