CHAPTER X
CONNIE DOES SOME TRAILING
Connie Morgan halted abruptly and stared down at the snow. At the pointwhere, a couple of hours before, he had emerged into the tote road,another, fresher, snow-shoe track crossed the road and struck out uponhis back trail. For some moments he studied the track, his trained eyetaking every slightest detail. "Whoever it was followed my trail tohere, and for some reason didn't want to follow it on into the clearing.So he kept on, and it wasn't long before he took the back trail." Hebent closer, and when he once more stood erect his face was very grave."It's Saginaw," he muttered. "I helped him restring that left racket."Swiftly the boy followed the tracks to the point where the man hadstruck into the clearing at the rear of the little office. "He followedme and found me talking to Mike Gillum."
SWIFTLY THE BOY FOLLOWED THE TRACKS TO THE POINT WHERETHE MAN HAD STRUCK INTO THE CLEARING.]
As Connie struck out on the back trail he smiled grimly: "Gee, I bet hethinks I'm a bad one. He knows the Syndicate put one over on Hurley lastwinter, and now he thinks I'm hand in glove with 'em. I would like tohave run this thing down alone, but I guess I'll have to let Saginaw inon it now. Maybe he won't believe me, and maybe Hurley won't, and thenI'll get fired! Anyhow, he broke a good trail for me," grinned the boyas he swung swiftly through the timber. Travelling light, he made rapidprogress, and as he walked, his brain was busy trying to solve hisriddle of the woods. Mike Gillum had told him that he had worked onseveral jobs with Hurley, that he was a good lumberman, that he couldhandle men, and get out the logs. Knowing this, he had recommended himto Waseche Bill, as foreman of his camp. Gillum said that by accident hehad seen Hurley's name on the Syndicate pay roll and had asked one ofthe clerks in the office about it, and that the clerk had winked andtold him that Hurley was well worth all the Syndicate paid him becausehe was boss of an independent outfit that was logging up on Dogfish. Itwas then that Gillum had written to Waseche Bill. He had known nothingof the latter's loss of last winter until Connie had told him at thetime of their first meeting. Despite the man's statements, Connie couldnot bring himself to believe that Hurley was guilty. "There's a mistakesomewhere," he muttered as he trudged on, "and I've got to find outwhere. I can't let Hurley in on it, because he's hot-headed and he'djump in and spoil every chance we had of catching the real culprit, or,if he is mixed up in it, he'd have all the chance in the world to coverhis tracks so I never could prove anything on him. But he isn't guilty!"This last was uttered aloud and with the emphasis of conviction. For thelife of him the boy could not have given a good and sufficient reasonfor this conviction. Indeed, all reason was against it. But theconviction was there, and the reason for the conviction was there--evenif the boy could not have told it--and it ran a great deal deeper thanhe knew.
From the moment three years before, when he had landed, a forlorn andfriendless little figure, upon the dock at Anvik, he had been thrownamong men--men crude and rough as the land they lived in. His dailyassociates had been good men--and bad. He had known good men withdeplorable weaknesses, and bad men with admirable virtues. In hisassociation with these men of the lean, lone land the boy hadunconsciously learned to take keen measure of men. And, having taken hismeasure, he accepted a man at his worth. The boy knew that Mike Gillumhad not lied to him--that under no circumstances would he lie to injureanother. But, despite the man's positive statement, Connie's confidencein Hurley remained unshaken. Hurley had assumed a definite place in hisscheme of things, and it would take evidence much more tangible than anunsubstantiated statement to displace him.
Under the heavily overcast sky and the thickly interlaced branches ofthe pines, daylight passed into twilight, and twilight fast deepened todarkness as the boy pushed on through the forest. Suddenly he halted. Tohis surprise, the trail he was following turned abruptly to the west. Heknew that the fresher tracks of Saginaw's snow-shoes had been laid overhis own back trail, and he knew that he had made no right angle turn inhis trip to Willow River. Bending close to the snow he made out in thedeep gloom other tracks--the tracks of three men who had not wornsnow-shoes. The three had evidently intercepted Saginaw and a powwow hadensued, for there had been much trampling about in the snow. ThenSaginaw had abandoned his course and accompanied the men to thewestward.
THE BOY HASTENED UNNOTICED TO THE EDGE OF A CROWD OF MENTHAT ENCIRCLED FRENCHY LAMAR.]
"Camp Two is west of here," muttered the boy. "I guess the men were partof Slue Foot's crew, and he went over to the camp with 'em." Darknessprevented him from noting that the trail that led to the westward was aclumsier trail than Saginaw would have made, or he never would havedismissed the matter so lightly from his mind. As it was, he continuedupon his course for Camp One, where he arrived nearly an hour later tofind the camp in a turmoil. The boy hastened, unnoticed, to the edge ofa crowd of men that encircled Frenchy Lamar, who talked as fast as hecould in an almost unintelligible jargon, which he punctuated withshrugs, and wild-flung motions of his arms.
"_Oui_, dat be'n w'en de las' of de Camp Two tote teams be'n pass 'boutde half hour. We com' 'long by de place w'er de road she twis' 'roun an'slant down de steep ravine. Woof! Rat on de trail stan' de leetle blackbear, an', _Sacre!_ Ma leaders git so scare dey stan' oop on de hine leglak dey gon for dance. Dey keek, dey jomp, dey plonge, an', _Voila!_ Demwheelers git crazy too. I'm got ma han' full, an' plenty mor', too, an'de nex' t'ing I'm fin' out dey jomp de wagon oop on de beeg stomp an'she teep ovaire so queek lak you kin say Jac Robinshon. Crack! Ma reachshe brek in two an' ma front ax' she git jerk loose from de wagon an' denex' t'ing I'm drag by de lines 'cross de creek so fas' dat tear macoat, ma shirt, ma pants mos' lak de ribbon. I'm bomp ma head, an' losema cap, an' scratch ma face, but by gar, I'm hang holt de lines, an'by-m-by dem horse dey git tire to haul me roun' by de mout', and deystan' still a minute on top de odder side. I'm look back an', _Sacre!_Hurley is lay on de groun' an' de boss I. W. W. is hit heem on de headwit' de gon. De res' is cuttin' loose deir han's. I'm yell on dem toqueet poun' on de boss head, wit de rifle, an' de nex' t'ing I'm know:Zing! de bullet com' so clos' eet mak de win' on ma face, an' de nex't'ing, Zing! Dat bullet she sting de horse an' I'm just got tam to jompoop on de front ax', an' de horses start out lak she got far businessaway from here queek. Dey ron so fas' I'm got to hol' on wit' ma han's,wit' ma feet! Dem horses ron so fas' lak de train, dem wheels jompfeefty feet high, an' dey only com' on de groun' 'bout once every half amile an' den I'm git poun', an' bomp, an' rattle, 'til I'm so black lakde, w'at you call, de niggaire!
"De neares' doctaire, she down to Birch Lak'. I'm leave ma team een destore-keeper stable, an' Ol' Man Niles she say de train don' stop nomor' today, so I can't go to Birch Lak' 'til mornin'. I t'ink, by gar,I'm mak' de train stop, so I'm push de beeg log on de track an' lay onma belly in de weeds, an' pret' soon de train com' long an' she see debeeg log an' she stop queek, an' dey all ron opp front an' I'm climb onan' tak' de seat in de smokaire. De train go 'long w'en dey git de logshov' off, an' de conductaire, he com' long an' seen me sit dere.'We're you git on dis train?' she say, an' I'm tell heem I'm git on toDogfish, w'en de train stop. 'I'm goin' to Birch Lak' for git dedoctaire for man w'at git keel,' I'm say, an' he say de train don' stopto Birch Lak', neider. She t'rough train, an' we'n we git to de firs'stop, she gon' for hav' me arres'. I ain' say no mor' an' I'm look outde window, an' de conductaire she go an' set down in de back of de car.De train she gon' ver' fas' an' by-m-by she com' to de breege, an' BirchLak' is wan half mile.
"I'm travel on de car before, an' I'm see dem stop de train mor' as onceto put off de lumbaire-jack w'en dey git to fightin' _Voila!_ I'm jompoop on ma feet ver' queek an' pull two, t'ree tam on de leetle rope, an'de las' tam I'm pull so hard she bre'k in two. De train she stop soqueek she mak' fellers bomp 'roun' in de seat, an' de conductaire she somad she lak to bus', an' she holler ver' mooch, an' com' ronnin' down demiddle. She ain' ver' beeg man, an' I'm reach down queek, de nex' t'ingshe know she light on de head in de middle w'ere four fellers is playin'
cards. Den, I'm ron an' jomp off de car an' fin' de doctaire. Datgittin' dark, now, an' she startin' to snow, an' de doctaire she say wecan't go to Dogfish 'til mornin', day ain' no mor' train. I'm see dehan' car down by de track, but de doctaire she say we ain' can tak' datfor 'cause we git arres'. But I'm laugh on heem, an' I'm say I'm tak'dat han' car, 'cause I'm got to git arres' anyhow--but firs' dey got toketch--eh? So I'm tak' a rock an' bus' de lock an' we lif' her on detrack an' com' to Dogfish. Ol' Man Niles she tak' hees team an' gon' oopan' got Hurley an' de cookee, an' breeng heem to de store. De doctaireshe feex de boss oop, an' she say eef eet ain' for dat cookee stay'roun' an' mak' de blood quit comin', Hurley she would be dead befor' wecom' long. Dis mornin' I'm tak' ma team an' Ol Man Niles's wagon an'com' to de camp. Hurley she won' go to de hospital, lak de doctaire say,so de doctaire she com' 'long. Eet tak' me all day long, de snow she sod'ep, an' by gar----"
Connie left in the middle of the Frenchman's discourse and hurried intothe office. In his bunk, with his head swathed in bandages, lay Hurley.The doctor stood beside the stove and watched Steve feed the injured mangruel from a spoon. The big boss opened his eyes as the boy entered. Hesmiled faintly, and with ever so slight a motion of his head indicatedSteve: "An' I said they wasn't the worth of a lath in his hide," hemuttered and nodded weakly as Connie crossed swiftly to the boy's sideand shook his hand. Hurley's voice dropped almost to a whisper: "I'll belaid up fer a couple of days. Tell Saginaw to--keep--things--goin'."
"I'll tell him," answered Connie, grimly, and, as the boss's eyesclosed, stepped to his own bunk and, catching up the service revolverfrom beneath the blankets, hurried from the room.
Connie Morgan was a boy that experience and training had taught to thinkquickly. When he left the office it was with the idea of heading a posseof lumberjacks in the capture of the three I. W. W.'s, for from themoment he heard of their escape the boy realized that these were thethree men who had intercepted Saginaw Ed on his return from WillowRiver. His one thought was to rescue the captive, for well he knew that,having Saginaw in their power, the thugs would stop at nothing inventing their hatred upon the helpless man. As he hurried toward thecrowd in front of the men's camp his brain worked rapidly. Fifty men inthe woods at night would make fifty times as much noise as one man. Thenagain, what would the men do if they should catch the three? The boypaused for a moment at the corner of the oat house. There was only oneanswer to _that_ question. The answer had been plain even before theadded outrage of the attack upon Hurley--and Hurley was liked by hismen. Stronger than ever became the boy's determination to have the I. W.W.'s dealt with by the law. There must be no posse.
His mind swung to the other alternative. If he went alone he couldfollow swiftly and silently. The odds would be three against one--butthe three had only one gun between them. He fingered the butt of hisrevolver confidently. "I can wing the man with the gun, and then coverthe others," he muttered, "and besides, I'll have all the advantage ofknowing what I'm up against while they think they're safe. Dan McKeeverwas strong for that. I guess I'll go it alone."
Having arrived at this decision the boy crossed the clearing to themen's camp where he singled out Swede Larson from the edge of the crowd."Saginaw and I've got some special work to do," he whispered; "you keepthe men going 'til we get back." Without waiting for a reply, hehastened to the oat house, fastened on his snow-shoes, and slipped intothe timber.
It was no hardship, even in the darkness, for him to follow thesnow-shoe trail, and to the point where the others had left it hisprogress was rapid. The snow had stopped falling, and great riftsappeared in the wind-driven clouds. Without hesitation Connie swung intothe trail of the four men. He reasoned that they would not travel farbecause when they had intercepted Saginaw there could not have been morethan two or three hours of daylight left. The boy followed swiftly alongthe trail, pausing frequently to listen, and as he walked he puzzledover the fact that the men had returned to the vicinity of the camp,when obviously they should have made for the railway and placed as muchdistance as possible between themselves and the scene of their crimes.He dismissed the thought of their being lost, for all three werewoodsmen. Why, then, had they returned?
Suddenly he halted and shrank into the shelter of a windfall. Upon thebranches of the pine trees some distance ahead his eye caught the faintreflection of a fire.
Very cautiously he left the trail and, circling among the trees,approached the light from the opposite direction. Nearer and nearer hecrept until he could distinctly see the faces of the four men. Crouchingbehind a thick tree trunk, he could see that the men had no blankets,and that they huddled close about the fire. He could see Saginaw withhis hands tied, seated between two of the others. Suddenly, beyond thefire, apparently upon the back trail of the men, a twig snapped.Instantly one of the three leaped up, rifle in hand, and disappeared inthe woods. Connie waited in breathless suspense. Had Swede Larsonfollowed him? Or had someone else taken up the trail? In a few momentsthe man returned and, taking Saginaw by the arm, jerked him roughly tohis feet and, still gripping the rifle, hurried him into the woods awayfrom the trail. They passed close to Connie, and the boy thanked hislucky star that he had circled to the north instead of the south, orthey would have immediately blundered onto his trail. A short distancefurther on, and just out of sight of the camp fire, they halted, andthe man gave a low whistle. Instantly another man stepped into thecircle of the firelight--a man bearing upon his back a heavily ladenpack surmounted by several pairs of folded blankets. He tossed the packinto the snow and greeted the two men who remained at the fire with agrin. Then he produced a short black pipe, and, as he stooped to pick upa brand from the fire, Connie stared at him in open-mouthed amazement.
The newcomer was the boss of Camp Two!