CHAPTER VII

  THE PRISONERS

  "I wish't Hurley was here," said Saginaw Ed, as he and Connie returnedto the boss's camp after locking the prisoners in the oat house. "Themen's goin' to want to know what them four is locked up fer. If we don'ttell 'em there'll be trouble. They don't like them birds none but, atthat, they won't stand fer 'em bein' grabbed an' locked up withoutnothin' ag'in' 'em. An' on the other hand, if we do tell 'em there'sgoin' to be trouble. Like as not they'd overrule me an' you an' hunt upa handy tree an' take 'em out an' jiggle 'em on the down end of a tightone."

  "Couldn't we slip 'em down to the nearest jail and tell the men about itafterwards, or send for a constable or sheriff to come up here and getthem?"

  Saginaw shook his head: "No. If me an' you was to take 'em down thecamp would blow up in no time. When the men woke up an' found the boss,an' the clerk, an' three hands, an' the cookee missin', an' the lockpried offen the stable door, work would stop right there. There ain'tnothin' like a myst'ry of some kind to bust up a crew of men. Wecouldn't wake no one else up to take 'em without we woke up the wholemen's camp, an' they'd want to know what was the rookus. If we sent fera constable it'd be two or three days 'fore he'd git here an' then itwould be too late. This here thing's comin' to a head when themteamsters goes fer the oats in the mornin', an' I've got to be therewhen they do."

  "I hate to see Steve mixed up in this. He's only a kid. I wonder ifthere isn't some way----"

  Saginaw Ed interrupted him roughly: "No. There ain't no way whatever.He's a bad aig or he wouldn't do what he done. You're only a kid, too,but I take notice you ain't throw'd in with no such outfit as them is."

  "I can't help thinking maybe he's getting a wrong start----"

  "He's got a wrong start, all right. But he got it quite a whileago--this here kind of business ain't no startin' job. They're all of apiece, kid. It's best we jest let the tail go with the hide."

  "What will Hurley do about it? If he agrees with us, won't the menoverrule him?"

  "I don't know what he'll do--I only wish't he was here to do it. But, asfer as overrulin' him goes--" Saginaw paused and eyed Connie solemnly,"jest you make it a p'int to be in the same township sometime when acrew of men ondertakes to overrule Hurley. Believe me, they'd have thesame kind of luck if they ondertook to overrule Mont Veesooverus whenshe'd started in to erup'."

  The door swung open and Hurley himself stood blinking in the lamplight."This here's a purty time fer workin' men to be up!" he grinned. "Don'tyous lads know it's half past twelve an' you'd orter be'n asleep fourhours?"

  "I don't hear _you_ snorin' none," grinned Saginaw. "An' you kin bet mean' the kid sure is glad to see you."

  "Got through sooner'n I expected. Slue Foot had the crew all picked out.He'll bring 'em in from the Spur in the mornin'. Thought I'd jest hikeon out an' see how things was gittin' on."

  "Oh, we're gittin' on, all right. Tote road's all cleared, Camp Two'sclearin's all ready, an' the buildin's most done. An' besides that, fourprisoners in the oat house, an' me an' the kid, here, losin' sleep overwhat to do with 'em."

  "Prisoners! What do you mean--prisoners?"

  "Them I. W. W.'s an' that cookee that throw'd in with 'em. They tried toburn the outfit--locked the hosses in the stable an' set fire to it,after waitin' 'til the wind was so it would spread over the hull camp."

  Hurley reached for a peavy that stood in the corner behind the door. "Yesay they burn't thim harses?" he rasped, in the brogue that alwaysaccompanied moments of anger or excitement.

  "No they didn't, but they would of an' it hadn't be'n fer the kid, here.He outguessed 'em, an' filled their coal-oil can with water, an' then welet 'em go ahead an' put on the whole show so we'd have 'em with thegoods."

  The big boss leaned upon his peavy and regarded Connie thoughtfully. "Aslong as I've got a camp, kid, you've got a job." He bit off a huge chewof tobacco and returned the plug to his pocket, after which he begandeliberately to roll up his shirt sleeves. He spat upon the palms of hishands, and as he gripped the peavy the muscles of his huge forearm stoodout like steel cables. "Jist toss me th' key to th' oat house," he saidin a voice that rumbled deep in his throat.

  "Wait!" Connie's hand was upon the boss's arm. "Sit down a minute andlet's talk it over----"

  "Sure, boss," seconded Saginaw. "Let's have a powwow. If you go outthere an' git to workin' on them hounds with that there peavy you'reliable to git excited an' tap 'em a little harder'n what you intendedto, an' then----"

  Hurley interrupted with a growl and the two saw that his little eyesblazed. "Oi ain't got the strength to hit 'em har-rder thin Oi intindto! An-ny one that 'ud thry to bur-rn up harses--let alone min slaypin'in their bunks, they can't no man livin' hit 'em har-rd enough widan-nything that's made."

  "I know," agreed Saginaw. "They ain't nothin' you could do to 'em thatthey wouldn't still have some a-comin'. But the idee is this: Bein'misclassed as humans, them I. W. W.'s is felonious to kill. Chances is,the grand jury would turn you loose when they'd heard the facts, butthe grand jury don't set 'til spring, an' meantime, where'd you be? An'where'd this camp be? Your contract calls fer gittin' out logs, an'don't stipulate none whatever about spatterin' up the oat house with I.W. W.'s. I don't like to spoil a man's fun, but when a mere frolic, thatway, interferes with the work, as good a man as you be is a-goin' to putit off a spell. You know, an' I know, there's more than gittin' out logsto this winter's work."

  Saginaw's words evidently carried weight with Hurley. The muscles of themighty arms relaxed and the angry gleam faded from his eyes. Also, thebrogue was gone from his voice; nevertheless, his tone was ponderouslysarcastic as he asked: "An' what is it you'd have me to do, seein' ye'reso free with yer advice--pay 'em overtime fer the night work they donetryin' to burn up my camp?"

  Saginaw grinned: "The kid's got it doped out about right. He figgersthat it'll show 'em up better if we let the courts handle the case an'convict 'em regular. With what we've got on 'em they ain't no chanct butwhat they'll get convicted, all right."

  "You see," broke in Connie, "the I. W. W.'s are a law-defyingorganization. The only way to bring them to time is to let the law doit. As soon as _all_ the I. W. W.'s see that the law is stronger thanthey are, and that their lawless acts are sure to be punished, therewon't be any more I. W. W.'s. The law can't teach them this unless ithas the chance. Of course, if the law had had the chance and had fallendown on the job because the men behind it were cowardly, it would betime enough to think about other ways. But, you told me yourself thatMinnesota was beginning to give 'em what's coming to 'em, and she'llnever get a better chance to hand 'em a jolt than this is, because we'vegot 'em with the goods. Now, if we'd go to work and let the men at 'em,or if you'd wade into 'em yourself we wouldn't be smashing at the I. W.W.'s, but only at these three men. When you stop to think of it, youcan't teach an outfit to respect the law when you go ahead and break thelaw in teaching 'em."

  Hurley seemed much impressed. "That stands to reason," he agreed."You're right, kid, an' so's Saginaw. I know Judge McGivern--used to goto school with him way back--he ain't much as fer as size goes butbelieve me he ain't afraid to hand these birds a wallop that'll keep 'empeekin' out between black ones fer many a day to come. I'll take 'emdown myself, an' then I'll slip around an' have a talk with Mac." Hurleytossed the peavy into its corner and proceeded to unlace his boots.

  "I kind of hate to see Steve go along with that bunch. He ain't aregular I. W. W., and----"

  The boss looked up in surprise as a heavy boot thudded upon the floor."What d'ye mean--hate to see?" he asked.

  "Why, he might turn out all right, if we kept him on the job and kind oflooked after him."

  The boss snorted contemptuously. "Huh! He done you dirt onct didn't he?"

  "Yes, but----"

  "He throw'd in with these here ornery scum that ain't neither men, fish,nor potatoes, didn't he?"

  "Yes, but----"

  "'Yes' is all right--an' they ain't no 'buts' about it.
I had him lastwinter, an' he wasn't no 'count. I thought they might be some good inhim so I hired him ag'in this fall to give him another chanct, but he'srotten-hearted an' twisty-grained, an' from root to top-branch theyain't the worth of a lath in his hide. He's a natural-borned crook. Ifit was only hisself I wouldn't mind it, but a crook is dangerous toother folks--not to hisself. It ain't right to leave him loose." Theother boot thudded upon the floor and Hurley leaned back in his chair,stretched out his legs and regarded the toes of his woollen socks. "I'veoften thought," he continued, after a moment of silence, "that men isoncommon like timber. There's the select, straight-grained, sound stuff,an' all the grades down through the culls 'til you come to the dozy,crooked, rotten-hearted stuff that ain't even fit to burn. There's soundstuff that's rough-barked an' ugly; an' there's rotten-hearted stuffthat looks good from the outside. There's some timber an' some menthat's built to take on a high polish--don't know as I kin git it acrostto you jest like I mean--but bankers and pianos is like that. Thenthere's the stuff that's equal as sound an' true but it wouldn'tnever take no polish on account its bein' rough-grained an'tough-fibred--that's the kind that's picked to carry on the world'sheavy work--the kind that goes into bridges an' ships, an' the framesof buildin's. It's the backbone, you might say, of civilization. Itain't purty, but its work ain't purty neither--it jest does what it'spicked to do.

  "It's cur'us how fer you kin carry it on if yer a mind to. There's somegood timber an' some good men that's started bad but ain't got thereyet. The bad habits men take on is like surface rot, an' weather checks,an' bug stings--take that stuff an' put it through the mill an' rip itan' plane it down to itself, an' it's as good as the best--sometimes.The danger to that kind is not puttin' it through the mill quick enough,an' the rot strikes through to the heart.

  "There's a lot of timber that there ain't much expected of--an' a lot ofhumans, too. They're the stuff that works up into rough boards, an' cullstuff, an' lath, an' pulp wood, an' cordwood an' the like of that--an'so it goes, folks an' timber runnin' about alike.

  "It takes experience an' judgment to sort timber, jest like it takesexperience an' judgment to pick men. But no matter how much experiencean' judgment he's got, as long as _man's_ got the sortin' to do,mistakes will be made. Then, a long time afterwards, somewheressomethin' goes wrong. They can't no one account fer it, nor explainit--but the Big Inspector--he knows."

  Hurley ceased speaking, and Connie, who had followed every word, brokein: "Couldn't we keep Steve here and--put him through the mill?"

  The boss shook his head: "No--we didn't catch him young enough. I'mresponsible, in a way, fer the men in this camp. This here runt hasshowed he don't care what he does--s'pose he took a notion to slipsomethin' into the grub--what then? Keepin' him in this camp would belike if I seen a rattlesnake in the bunk house an' walked off an' leftit there."

  Connie realized that any further effort on his part to save Steve fromsharing the richly deserved fate of the I. W. W.'s would be useless. Thethree turned in and it seemed to the boy that he had barely closed hiseyes when he was awakened by the sounds of someone moving about theroom. Hurley and Saginaw Ed were pulling on their clothes as the boytumbled out of bed.

  "You don't need to git up yet, kid. Me an' Saginaw's goin' to slip outan' see that the teamsters gits their oats without lettin' no I. W. W.'strickle out the door. Better pound yer ear fer an hour yet, causeyou're goin' to be busier'n a pet coon checkin' in Slue Foot's supplies,an' gittin' his men down on the pay roll."

  As Connie entered the cook's camp for breakfast he noticed anundercurrent of unrest and suppressed excitement among the men who stoodabout in small groups and engaged in low-voiced conversation. Hurley andSaginaw Ed were already seated, and, as the men filed silently in, manya sidewise glance was slanted toward the big boss.

  When all were in their places Hurley rose from his chair. "We've gotthree I. W. W.'s an' the cookee locked up in the oat house," heannounced bluntly. "An' after breakfast me an' Frenchy is goin' to take'em down to jail." There was a stir among the men, and Hurley paused,but no one ventured a comment. "They tried to burn the stable lastnight, but the kid, here, outguessed 'em, an' him an' Saginaw gathered'em in."

  "Last night!" cried a big sawyer, seated half-way down the table. "Ifthey'd a-burnt the stable last night the whole camp would of gone! Letus boys take 'em off yer hands, boss, an' save you a trip to town."

  The idea gained instant approval among the men, and from all parts ofthe room voices were raised in assent.

  "Over in Westconsin we----"

  Hurley interrupted the speaker with a grin: "Yeh, an' if we was over inWestconsin I'd say go to it! But Minnesota's woke up to these herevarmints--an' it's up to us to give her a chanct to show these hereother States how to do it. You boys all know Judge McGivern--most of youhelped elect him. Give him the chanct to hand the I. W. W.'s a wallop inthe name of the State of Minnesota! If the State don't grab these birds,they'll grab the State. Look at North Dakota! It ain't a State nomore--it's a Non-partisan League! Do you boys want to see Minnesota anI. W. W. Lodge?"

  As Hurley roared out the words his huge fist banged the table with aforce that set the heavy porcelain dishes a-clatter.

  "No! No!" cried a chorus of voices from all sides. "The boss is right!Let the State handle 'em!" The men swung unanimously to Hurley and theboss sat down amid roars of approval.

  And so it was that shortly after breakfast Frenchy cracked his whip witha great flourish and four very dejected-looking prisoners started downthe tote road securely roped to the rear of the tote wagon, at the endgate of which sat Hurley, rifle in hand and legs a-dangle as he puffedcontentedly at his short black pipe.