Grace Harlowe\'s Overland Riders in the Great North Woods

J >> Jessie Graham Flower >> Grace Harlowe\'s Overland Riders in the Great North Woods

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"Dynamite!" The word came out with explosive force. "The pirates don't
like our presence here, so thought they would put us out of business.
They didn't know us, did they, Hippy?"

"No. I wonder what they will think now--or do?"

"Nothing in the way of damaging our property, for we shall have our
works watched after this. They might blow the upper dam, of course, but
there are no logs being held there and the water would simply flow over
our construction without doing damage. We must tell Willy what we
suspect and assign him to guard duty. An Indian can sleep and yet be on
watch."

"Like Hindenburg, who always sleeps with one ear awake," suggested
Hippy.

"But never hears anything with it," laughed Tom. "We'll see."

Later in the day when Tom spoke confidentially with the Indian about
what the Overlanders suspected, Willy evinced no surprise. He nodded in
agreement with Tom that the new dam must be guarded.

It was. Willy slept near it in a lean-to down near the river. For
several nights nothing occurred to indicate that there was anyone within
miles of the camp. By day Willy hunted, often not coming in until after
dark. It was on a Saturday night, however, that Willy failed to reach
camp until nearly midnight. On his back he bore the carcass of a young
deer that he had shot and dressed miles from the Overland headquarters
on the bank of the Little Big Branch. He was nearly in when suddenly he
raised his body to an erect position, listened for a few seconds, then
dropped his burden and sprinted for home.

The Overlanders long since had turned in and the lumberjacks were in
their bunks, comfortable, and as happy as a lumberjack permits himself
to be, when suddenly their bunk-house seemed to be lifted free of the
ground. It swayed and trembled as a terrific crash rent the air. The
tepee toppled over at the same instant, leaving the Overland girls lying
in the open. Tom and Hippy, at the time asleep in their lean-to, which
was a few yards nearer the river, never were able to decide whether they
had been hurled from their beds or had leaped out before they were fully
awake. At least, they found themselves outdoors, and some yards from the
lean-to.

"For the love of Mike, what now?" gasped Hippy.

Hindenburg was running about in circles, uttering dismal howls, and the
pet bear was scrambling for the top of the highest tree in his vicinity.

"It's the dam!" shouted Tom Gray. "They've got us this time!" growled
Tom, starting down the bank, followed by Hippy and the yowling bull pup.
Hippy saw a figure running from the bank of the river a little further
upstream. It was a man, and he was running in short hops, as if he were
using a stick or cane to assist him in covering ground rapidly.

Behind the fleeing man Tom and Hippy discovered a second figure. It was
Willy Horse. The first figure, as the two Overlanders started for him at
a run, had dashed out over the broken and bent spiles of the dam,
hopping from one spile to another with remarkable agility, with Willy
Horse in close pursuit.

The hopping man, reaching the end of the spiles at the middle of the
dam, halted, hesitated, and the Indian was upon him.

"It's Peg Tatem!" cried Hippy. "He's the scoundrel who did this thing."

A knife in Peg's hand flashed in the moonlight, another appearing in the
hand of the Indian, and out there on their precarious footing the men
stood, thrusting and parrying, with their two-edged blades, watched with
breathless interest by the entire Overland party, who had rushed to the
river's edge.

A sudden uproar was heard in the direction of the bunk-house. The
lumberjacks having discovered that a fight was in progress were running
towards the river to see if they too could not get into the fray, for a
lumberjack loves nothing in the world so violently as he loves a fight.

"Keep out of it!" ordered Tom as he saw that the jacks were headed for
the path that Peg and Willy had taken.

"Tom! Do something!" begged Grace. "Don't let those two men kill each
other."

"We can do nothing. Even to call to Willy would take his attention from
the battle. You know what that would mean."

"Oh-h-h-h-h!" moaned Emma, toppling over in a faint.

"Oh, Heavens! Look!" wailed Anne.

One of the combatants staggered and swayed. An arm was thrust out at
him, but the blade that had been driven against him did not flash in
the moonlight, for the body of the wielder was between it and the
spectators. Even the jacks stood silent, they having halted at Tom
Gray's command, but their breathing was heavily audible.

"He's killed! It's Peg!" cried Grace.

The Indian's victim, following the last thrust, had toppled over into
the river below the dam. With a bound, Willy Horse cleared the spiling
and leaped to the river bed to finish his victim.

"Willy! Stop!" Grace Harlowe's voice rang out shrill and penetrating, as
Willy, the savage instincts of his race having taken possession of his
soul, raised his knife-hand above Peg Tatem, who lay on his back on the
river-bed.

CHAPTER XXIV

CHRISTMAS IN THE BIG WOODS

Willy Horse, brought suddenly to his senses by Grace's scream,
hesitated, got slowly to his feet, and stood narrowly watching his
opponent who lay, nearly covered with water, moaning faintly. There was
ferociousness in the heart of the Indian, but Grace's voice had stayed
his hand.

Lumber-jacks, with Tom and Hippy, had plunged into the shallow stream
the instant that Grace cried out, and were running towards Willy, now
standing calmly awaiting them.

"Did you kill him?" shouted Hippy.

"No kill. Mebby kill bymeby," answered Willy Horse briefly as Tom and
Hippy came puffing up to him.

"You have done enough. Let him alone!" commanded Tom, lifting the head
and shoulders of the wounded man. "Fellows, carry this man ashore, but
don't hurt him!"

Emma, having regained consciousness, was assisted up the bank by Anne
and Nora, while Peg was being taken to the bunk-house by the
lumberjacks. Elfreda, after a brief examination, did not believe that
Peg's wound would prove fatal, but Hippy advised her not to tell the
foreman of Section Forty-three of this, saying that he wished to make
the man talk, which Peg probably would not do were he to think that his
wounds were trivial.

The lumberjacks were ugly, and, had they had their way, they would have
promptly finished the job begun by Willy Horse, believing, as they did,
that Peg Tatem was responsible for the present and previous disasters
that had befallen the Overland Riders in the Big North Woods.

Peg Tatem regained consciousness after Elfreda and Tom had worked over
him for more than an hour.

"Did the Redskin git me?" he demanded weakly.

"You're right he did," agreed Hippy. "You might as well tell us all
about it now before it is too late. We know what you have done, and
that's good and plenty, but you are now going to make a confession and
swear to it."

Peg went into a violent rage at the suggestion and pounded the cot with
his wooden leg until he was exhausted. Waiting until the fellow had
quieted down, Hippy then informed him that in case he recovered, and had
not confessed, they would see to it that he went to prison for a long
term. After hours of urging, the foreman of Section Forty-three gave in
and made a full confession. Elfreda wrote down his statement and made
Peg swear to it, after Hippy had promised that, in the event of his
recovery, there would be no prosecution.

Tatem declared that he had acted wholly under the orders of Hiram
Dusenbery, of the Dusenbery Lumber Company; that it was his jacks who
had turned the skidway loose on the Overland camp, and that it was Tatem
himself, acting under orders, who had dynamited the big pine and tumbled
it over on the Overlanders. He said that Dusenbery and Chet Ainsworth
were partners in the business of timber-stealing, and that the
dynamiting was Ainsworth's scheme.

"Why did they wish to be rid of us?" asked Miss Briggs.

"They reckoned they'd spoil yer game. T'other reason was that they
wanted this 'ere section fer themselves."

"Good! We will send both to jail," promised Elfreda. "Now what I wish
are the names of witnesses who can verify at least part of your story."

After some thought Peg named several lumberjacks, fellows who were still
in the employ of the Dusenbery Company. The Overlanders then ceased
their questioning to give Peg a much-needed rest, and left him in the
care of two jacks, with the reminder that they would be held fully
accountable for the safety and good care of the prisoner.

Willy Horse was started that night for the nearest fire warden's
station, there to have the warden telephone for a doctor, and also for
the sheriff of the county, as it was thought best to hold Tatem as a
material witness. The doctor and sheriff arrived late next day. Peg's
injuries were found to be quite serious, and it was a full week later
before he could be moved to the county jail where he was a prisoner
under treatment for two more weeks.

Hippy accompanied Peg, and while at the county seat swore out warrants
for Dusenbery and Chet Ainsworth. At the December term of court both men
were found guilty and sentenced to serve terms in prison. Peg Tatem,
according to agreement with the complainants, was released and advised
to seek other fields, which he did.

In the meantime a new dam had been built by Tom and Hippy, and a sawmill
established twenty-five miles further down the river. The sounds of the
"swampers'" axes and the "saw-gangs" were now heard in the forest from
daylight until dark, where huge logs were being felled, trimmed,
skidded and rolled down into the new dam, to be "boomed," and released
after every thaw in early spring, and sent on their way to the mill.

The Overland girls still lingered. After some discussion they had
decided to remain in the woods until after Christmas. By Christmas time
the ground and the trees were white with snow, and Tom closed his
"cruising" for the season. Willy Horse was absent much of the time,
trapping for himself and hunting game for the table of the lumberjacks.
The girls were now living in a real log cabin which the jacks, hearing
them express a wish that they might have one, had built. Logs blazed in
the fireplace, and there the Overland girls, after long hikes in the
forest, and occasional rides on their ponies, spent many happy hours.

At Nora's suggestion, an elaborate Christmas celebration, including a
Christmas tree, was planned by the girls for the jacks and themselves.
Tom, obliged to go to St. Paul on business, more than a week's journey
in itself, was commissioned to purchase the supplies and Christmas gifts
for the celebration, and returned in a sleigh from Bisbee's Corners,
reaching the Overland camp by way of a new trail that his men had cut.
He was a regular Santa Claus, except that he rode "behind mules instead
of reindeers," as Emma Dean expressed it. Then began the real
preparations for Christmas, with many conferences in the log cabin.

Two Christmas dinners were to be laid Christmas evening, one in the new
modern bunk-house that had been recently erected, where the old original
gang of lumberjacks and a few selected newcomers were then living. Many
additional men had been taken on during the early part of the winter
when the lumbering operations began on a large scale, and efforts were
made to instill into the new men the spirit of the Overland outfit,
which the old men long since had absorbed.

The great day arrived. The old and faithful jacks were to sit down with
the Overlanders to the spread that was in preparation all that day, Joe
Shafto, after much grumbling, laying aside her feud against all
lumberjacks and helping the regular cook in his work of preparing the
dinner. This was supervised by Grace and Elfreda, while their companions
attended to laying the tables and decorating the bunk-house with greens
brought in by the jacks.

At seven o'clock that evening, the jacks, who had been put out of the
new bunk-house without ceremony, were told to enter. They thumped in,
and gazed in amazement at the transformation of their home, at the
festoons of pine cones and greens, at the gaily colored lanterns, at the
red, white, and blue candles on the table, and at the big American flag
suspended from the rafters at the lower end of the room.

The girls disposed themselves about the table so that they might sit
with their guests. Hippy took the head of the table, with Spike, who was
known by no other name, at his right. Grace had never been able to
banish the disagreeable impression that she felt on first setting eyes
on the big red-haired lumberjack, and that feeling now seemed to take
hold of her more strongly than ever as Spike, shoulders slouched forward
and eyes lowered, shuffled to the seat assigned to him.

"Sit down!" ordered Hippy, and all hands sat, Tom taking the seat at the
lower end of the table.

There was real turkey, with cranberry sauce, squash, creamed onions,
mashed potatoes, celery and a variety of other vegetables, brought from
the city by Tom. Willy Horse acted as waiter, Mrs. Shafto declining to
unbend to the extent of waiting on "them varmints."

"I'll fodder white folk, and I'll sling a bone to a bear or a bull pup,
but no timber houn' of a lumberjack's goin' to git 'chuck' from the
paws of Joe Shafto, and that's the end of the argefyin'," she declared,
challenging the girls with a threatening glare through her big
horn-rimmed spectacles.

There were only a few jacks present, outside of the "original" crowd, as
Tom called them, all the others having a dinner of their own in the old
bunk-house.

The "talk" at the table was mostly confined to the Overland Riders,
their efforts to make conversation with their partners, the
lumberjacks, eliciting little more than grunts. The jacks were busy,
very busy, and when the time came for dessert, every platter and every
plate was empty.

"Pudding! Fetch on the pudding," cried Hippy.

There followed a few moments of waiting while the girls were clearing
the table of used dishes, then Willy Horse was seen entering, bearing a
huge platter, on the platter a great mound of blazing plum pudding.

The jacks gasped.

"Fire!" yelled a lumberjack.

Every jack in the room leaped to his feet and the next instant they were
blowing great, long-drawn breaths at the blue flame that, as they
thought, was consuming something that was good to eat. With strong
breaths, and vigorous slaps from ham-like hands, they soon put out the
"fire," Willy Horse, in a rage, kicking out with his feet at every shin
within reach. The Overland Riders were convulsed with laughter, as the
jacks solemnly filed back to their seats at the table.

"That's plum pudding, you poor fish!" groaned Hippy.

"Ain't nothin' now," grumbled Spike. "Purty nigh burned up."

Grace composed her face and tried to explain that burning the plum
pudding was an old English custom, and that, instead of destroying the
pudding, it added to its flavor, but the jacks shook their heads,
probably thinking that she was saying this to make sport of them. After
the pudding had been served, the jacks tasted it gingerly, then smacking
their lips they quickly devoured it. Coffee and nuts followed, and the
meal came to an end.

"We will now view the Christmas tree," announced Hippy. "Outside there
are millions of Christmas trees, all dolled up with fancy spangles, but
they aren't like this tree, as you will see. Pull the string, Emma!"

A real Christmas tree was revealed as Emma Dean draped back the flag, a
tree decorated with lights and spangles, its branches bending low under
the weight of gifts. A beautiful repeating rifle for Willy Horse brought
a grunt from the Red Man, but nothing more. From the base of the tree
Emma then picked up a bag, opened it and advanced towards the table.

"A little Christmas gift from Mr. Gray and Mr. Wingate," she said,
depositing a ten-dollar gold piece before each lumberjack. Their
amazement left them speechless. Some quickly slipped their gifts into
their pockets, others merely sat and gazed at the shining pieces of
metal for a moment before picking them up.

"Fellows, this is not the bonus we promised you," said Tom. "This is a
Christmas present, just a little gift of appreciation on our part. There
are socks and boots and other things on the tree for you, and when we
have gone you will divide the stuff equally between you. Spike, what's
the matter?" he demanded.

Spike had not touched his gold piece, but sat looking at it, drawing in
deep labored breaths.

"It's real, better grab while the grabbing is good," urged Hippy.

Spike shook his head and shoved both hands under the table.

The Overland Riders saw instantly that the man was agitated.

"If you don't wish to accept our gift, you need not do so, Spike," said
Tom. "We shan't lay it up against you if--"

"It ain't that!" exploded the lumberjack.

"Then what is it, old man?" questioned Hippy.

Spike, rising awkwardly, swallowed hard several times and essayed to
speak.

"Talk, if you feel like it. It will do you good," urged Tom kindly.

"It's 'cause I ain't fit ter touch it, that's why," blurted Spike. "Yer
wants me t' talk. I'll talk. I ain't fit 'cause I ain't fit, that's all.
I'm a thief, and I'm a skallerwag, and I served a term in Joliet prison.
I ain't never had nuthin' but kicks and cuffs and dodgin' perlice afore
I got inter this outfit. First off, I thought it was soft here--that ye
folks was easy, but somehow it warn't. There was somethin' else in the
kind o' treatment yer give me that I couldn't git through my haid."

The hair of Spike's head was now a bristling flame of red.

"You're excited. Hook your canthook on the other side and stop the log
from rolling before it mashes you flat," advised Hippy.

"I got ter talk now, and then I'll quit and git out fer good. I took
money fer ter do ye an inj'ry. I took it from that houn' Ainsworth. I
was to tell him 'bout things that was goin' on here and--"

A low, rumbling, menacing growl, at first coming, it seemed, from the
very boots of the lumberjacks, startled the Overland Riders. The growl
suddenly burst into an angry roar. Acting upon a common impulse, every
jack in the room sprang to his feet and made a savage rush for the
red-headed Spike.

"Sit down, you rough-necks!" bellowed Hippy Wingate. "This is Christmas.
Sit down unless you want me to give you a clip on the jaw!"

The jacks hesitated, drew back, then slouched to their seats, scowling
threateningly.

"It'd serve me right if ye fellers beat me up," resumed Spike. "I'm no
good. I never was and I'm goin' ter quit onless ye fire me afore I've
got through speakin', but I wants ye folks t' know that I throwed that
dirty money away, I did. It burned me like no money I ever filched did;
it burned me inside and out and I slung it inter the river. I meant ter
do ye a measly trick, ye folks, and I did, but I wants ye ter know
partic'lar that Chet Ainsworth and that gang of his'n didn't git no
information outer me. That's more'n I ever done for anybody afore. Ye've
treated me white, ye have, Boss," he said, looking at Tom, "and
I've--I've--" Spike gulped and swallowed hard. "I've opined ter do ye
dirt."

Spike struggled for more words, and then, to the amazement of his
fellows, sank into his seat with tears rolling down his cheeks.

A jack laughed. Hippy fixed him with a stern look. Tom Gray rose
gravely.

"Don't laugh, fellows," he admonished. "You have seen one of your own
bare his soul, if you can understand what that means. It takes a brave
man to do that, boys, a man of wonderful courage. I wonder how many of
you would have the courage to do the same. I'll have more to say on the
subject of Spike in a moment. First, I want to thank you for your
loyalty to us. We could not have won out if you hadn't been loyal. We
are going to make money, as I have told you before, and you boys who
have helped to make it are going to get your share."

"Give 'em a little rough stuff. They'll understand that better than they
do this soul business," suggested Hippy, and the jacks grinned.

"As for Spike, he forgot to carry out his threat to resign--" resumed
Tom.

"I quit, and I--" interrupted Spike, flushing hotly.

"Sit down!" commanded Hippy, forcing him back into his seat, from which
Spike had started to rise.

"Mr. Wingate and I have had several talks about affairs here," resumed
Tom. "Among other things, we have decided that we have need of a
foreman, a foreman who can get out the work with the new men--you
fellows do not need a foreman--and carry out our orders in other
directions. Before coming here for this little party, we had already
decided on a man for the job of foreman, and I, for one, am glad we
picked the man we did, but I want you boys to approve of our
appointment. What you say _goes_. Stand up!" commanded Tom Gray sternly,
fixing his gaze on the red-headed jack, who, from sheer force of habit,
obeyed that tone instantly.

"There's the man I've picked," announced Tom, pointing to Spike.

A dead silence greeted the announcement, a silence broken only by the
heavy breathing of the lumberjacks, and the shrill voice of Joe Shafto
back in the cook-house abusing Willy Horse.

"What do you say, fellows?" urged Tom quietly.

Something seeped slowly into the brain of those rough and ready
two-fisted lumbermen. To advance a confessed crook to foreman, a man who
had bargained to do a traitorous thing to his Big Boss--it was big, it
was unheard of in their rough lives. Even the girls of the Overland
party, not one of whom had known of Tom's and Hippy's purpose, felt a
thrill, but no one spoke.

"Well, fellows?" urged Tom gently.

"_Yes!_" The word was uttered in a roar, a mighty roar that was heard in
the cook-house and by the lumberjacks at their Christmas dinner in the
old bunk-house.

Nora Wingate, carried away by her emotions, sprang to her feet and threw
wide her arms.

"Boys! Boys!" she cried almost hysterically.

"You're rough, but you're men--loyal, splendid fellows, and I love you,
every one of you!"

Spike, with burning face, bolted for the door.

"Come back here!" bellowed Hippy Wingate. "You've forgotten something,"
pointing to the gold-piece that lay where Emma Dean had placed it before
Spike's plate. "I never did see anyone so careless with money."

The red-headed lumberjack returned slowly, picked up the gold-piece and
opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.

"Never mind. Don't say it," smiled Tom. "You may go now."

"Thankee," mumbled Spike, and made a hurried exit. Reaching the door, he
broke into a run, never pausing until he had plunged deep into the
forest, not to return until long after the jacks had turned in for the
night.

Following the new foreman's departure the gifts for Overlanders and
jacks were quickly distributed, and, half an hour later, on their way to
their own camp, the Overland Riders stepped out into the sparkling
night, where, as Hippy Wingate had said, every tree was a Christmas
tree, dressed with snapping reflected lights from the moonbeams on the
snowflakes. Elfreda Briggs called attention to a dark object at the top
of a great pine. It was Henry--Henry in disgrace--Henry who had stolen
a turkey from the cook-house and felt the sting of his master's club
across his sensitive nose.

June and July disturbed the serenity of the night with two long-drawn,
throaty brays.

A snow-bird chirped in the foliage somewhere above the Overlanders.

"What is the little birdie saying, Emma girl?" teased Hippy.

"What is he saying?" answered Emma thoughtfully. "I think, Hippy, that
he is wishing us all a merry, merry Christmas and a happy, successful
new year."

On the following morning Spike entered the office of the company where
Tom Gray was at work on the books.

"Boss," he said, "it ain't right this thing that ye said last night. I
been sittin' out thar in the woods all night thinkin'--"

"About being made foreman?" questioned Tom.

"Yes. An' 'bout that other thing. When the fellers laughed an' ye said I
was 'barin' my soul,' I didn't have no such thing. But Cap'n! Out thar
in the woods, an' God Almighty lookin' down and seein' me thar in the
moonlight, I found one. Mebby ye told him to give it to me, but I got
it. I didn't un'erstan' then what ye meant. I do now, an' wanted ye to
know it. Cap'n! I got er soul!"

Without giving Tom Gray opportunity to make fitting reply, Spike squared
his shoulders and shuffled out and called his gang together.

Spike's confession and his new job worked a transformation in him. He no
longer wore the surly, hang-dog expression of former days; he walked
more erectly and his gray eyes boldly met those of any person who
addressed him. The manner in which the red-headed foreman drove the work
along throughout the winter, overcoming obstacles and winning and
holding the respect of the men, confirmed the judgment of Tom and Hippy
that Spike was the right man for the job.

The girls of the Overland party, with Joe Shafto, Henry and the mules,
started for home two days later, leaving Tom, Hippy and the bull pup to
remain in the woods until spring.

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