CHAPTER XX--HOUNDED

  Clammy mist hung about the edge of the clearing, veiling the somberspires of the pines, but leaving the rows of straight trunks uncoveredbelow a straight-drawn line. It was a gloomy morning. Jimmy, standingwith Bethune and several others beside a growing log-pile, stopped amoment to rest his aching muscles. He was wet through, and his arms andback were sore from the previous day's exertions. Two strong skids,placed so as to form an inclined bridge, led to the top of the log-pileand the soil between them was trodden into a wet, slippery mess in whichit was difficult to keep one's footing. A length sawed off a massivetrunk lay across the ends of the skids, and Jimmy and his companionswere trying to roll it into its place on top of the previously laidtier.

  Getting their poles beneath it they forced it upward, little by little.When they got half-way, a pole slipped, and for a few anxious momentsthe men strained every muscle to prevent the mass from rolling back,while their companion found a fresh rest for his pole. The log must beheld: they could not jump clear in time. Breathing hard, with the sweatdripping from them, they raised it a foot or two, until it seemedpossible to lift it on to the lower logs by a strenuous effort. Theymade the attempt; and one of the skids broke. Laying their shouldersbeneath the mass, they struggled with it for their lives. If itoverpowered them, they would be borne backward and crushed. With onesupport gone, it seemed impossible that they could lift it into place.For a few moments they held it, but did no more, though Jimmy felt theveins swell on his forehead and heard a strange buzzing in his ears. Hismouth was dry, his heart beat painfully, and he knew he could not standthe cruel strain much longer. But there was no help available. They mustconquer or be maimed.

  "Lift! You have got to land her, boys!" cried somebody in a half-chokedvoice. And they made their last effort.

  For a moment the mass hung in the balance, and then rose an inch. Againthey hove it upward before their muscles could relax, and now its weightbegan to rest upon the lower logs. Another thrust rolled it slowlyforward--and the danger was past.

  Though the incident was not of an unusual character, Jimmy sat downlimply in the wet fern to recover breath, and he was still resting whenthe foreman came up and beckoned him.

  "We'll not want you and your partner after to-night," he said abruptly.

  Jimmy looked at him in surprise.

  "As you haven't found any fault with us, might one ask the reason?"

  "You might; but I can't tell you. There it is--you're fired. I've got myorders."

  The Canadian is often laconic, and Jimmy nodded.

  "Very well," he said; "we'll go now. This isn't a luxurious job."

  "As you like," replied the foreman. "The boss's clerk is in the shack;I'll give him your time."

  Jimmy followed him to the office and drew his pay, but the clerk seemedunable to explain his dismissal.

  "I guess it's because we can't get our value out of the boys in thisrain," he said evasively.

  "But why single us out?" Jimmy persisted. "I don't know that I want tostay; but I'm curious. Our gang has put up as many logs as the others."

  "I've no time for talking!" the clerk exclaimed. "Take your money andquit!"

  Bethune drew Jimmy away and they crossed the clearing to where Moran wasat work. He showed no great surprise when he heard their news.

  "Well," he said, "I'll finish the week here and then follow you to thecity. We'll need the money."

  "All right," Bethune agreed; "if you get the chance of staying; butthat's doubtful. You know where to find us."

  They went back to the sleeping shack to get their clothes.

  "What did you mean when you said he might not have the chance?" Jimmyasked.

  "I have a suspicion that Hank will get his time in the next day or two.The boss wouldn't want to make the thing too obvious, and Hank's a goodchopper. There are some awkward trees to get down where he's working."

  "But why should they want to get rid of him--or us?"

  Bethune smiled grimly.

  "I think we're marked men. We'll find out presently whether I'm right."

  Bethune's forebodings proved correct, for only a few days elapsed beforeMoran joined him and Jimmy in Vancouver. After spending a week insearching for employment they got work with a lumber-rafting gang andkept it for a fortnight, when they were dismissed without any convincingreason being given.

  On the evening after their return to the city they sat in a corner ofthe comfortless lobby at the hotel. It was quiet there because the otherboarders lounged in tilted chairs before the big windows with their hatson and their feet supported by the radiator pipes, watching thepassers-by.

  "I came across the fellow we got the pumps from this afternoon," Jimmyremarked. "The last time I saw him he was fairly civil, but he's turnedabusive now. Wanted to know when we were going to pay him the rest ofhis money, and made some pointed observations about our character."

  "That won't hurt us," laughed Bethune. "As we have nothing to give himand the sloop's safely hidden, he can't make much trouble. I heardsomething more interesting. An acquaintance of mine mentioned that theyhad a big lot of lumber to cut at the Clanch mill and wanted a few moremen. If we could get a job there, we might hold it."

  "It seems to me we can't hold anything," Jimmy grumbled. "Why that?"

  Bethune chuckled in a manner that indicated that he knew more than hemeant to tell.

  "Boldness often pays, and I imagine that our mysterious enemies won'tthink of looking for us at the Clanch mill. We'll go out thereto-morrow."

  They found it a long walk over a wet road, for soon after they left thecity rain began to fall. On applying at the mill gate, they were sent tothe office, and Jimmy was standing, wet and moody, by the counter,waiting until a supercilious clerk could attend to him, when an innerdoor opened and a young man came out. Jimmy started as he recognized theyachtsman they had met on the island; but Aynsley moved forward with asmile.

  "This is a pleasant surprise! I'm glad you thought of looking me up."

  "As a matter of fact, we are looking for work," Bethune saidlaconically.

  Aynsley laughed and indicated the door behind him.

  "Go in and sit down. I'll join you in a minute or two, and we'll seewhat can be done."

  They entered his private office, which was smartly furnished, and, beingvery wet, felt some diffidence about using the polished hardwood chairs.The throb of engines and the scream of saws made it unlikely that theirconversation could be overheard, and Jimmy turned to Bethune with afrown.

  "You made a curious remark about boldness paying, when you suggestedcoming here. Did you know that young man was in charge?"

  "No; it's an unexpected development. But I'll confess that I knew themill belonged to his father."

  "Clay?" Jimmy exclaimed. "The owner of the wreck?"

  "Her late owner. She belongs to the underwriters now. It seems to me thesituation has its humorous side; I mean our getting a job from the manwho's been hunting us down."

  "You suspected Osborne not long ago," Jimmy said shortly.

  "They're partners; but, from what I've gathered, it's more likely thatClay's the man who's on our trail. We helped him to follow it byregistering with an employment agent--and that makes me wonder whetherit would be an advantage to change our names?"

  "I'll stick to mine!" said Jimmy; and Moran declared his intention ofdoing the same.

  "After all, it's a feeble trick and not likely to cheat the fellow wehave to deal with," Bethune agreed. "He has obviously got a prettyaccurate description of us."

  "But would a man of his kind spend his time in tracking us? And wouldn'tit lead to talk?"

  Bethune laughed.

  "He'll act through agents; there are plenty of broken-down adventurersin Vancouver who'd be glad to do his dirty work. These cities are fullof impecunious wastrels; I was one myself."

  "Perhaps we'd better clear out," suggested Jimmy. "I'd hate to take thefellow's pay."

  "You needn't feel diffident. If it's any consol
ation, the mill foremanwill get full value out of you. However--" Bethune broke off as Aynsleycame in.

  "The fishing doesn't seem to have been very profitable," he said,putting a box on the table. "Have a cigar."

  "All we caught hardly paid for the net," Bethune replied. "On the whole,I don't think we'll smoke. Perhaps we had better not, so to speak,confuse our relations at the start. You see, though we didn't know youwere the manager, we came along in the hope that you might have anopening for three active men."

  "If I hadn't, I'd try to make one," Aynsley answered. "However, as ithappens, we do need a few extra hands; but I'm afraid I've only roughwork to offer."

  "It couldn't be much rougher than we've been doing. I believe we canmake ourselves useful; and that Hank here could move more lumber in aday than any man in your mill. But of course you're under no obligationto take us."

  "We'll let that go; I need help. You can begin with the stacking gang,but something better may turn up. Now tell me something about yournorthern trip."

  Bethune told him as much as he thought advisable, and, although he usedtact, Aynsley gave him a keen glance now and then, as if he suspectedsome reserve. Before Aynsley could make a comment, Bethune stood up.

  "I've no doubt you're a busy man," he said, "and we mustn't waste yourtime. Shall we make a start in the morning?"

  "You can begin right now."

  Aynsley rang a bell and handed them over to his foreman.

  For some weeks the men remained contentedly at the mill. The work washard, but the pay was fair, and the boarding arrangements good, andAynsley seldom failed to give them a pleasant word as he passed. Indeed,Jimmy felt a warm liking for him; and it was not by his wish but byBethune's that their respective stations as employer and workmenremained clearly defined.

  One day, when Aynsley had been absent for more than a week, the foremancame to them.

  "I'm sorry you'll have to quit," he said. "We're paying off several ofthe boys."

  "Quit!" Jimmy began indignantly; but he caught Bethune's warning lookand added lamely, "Oh, well; I suppose it's by Mr. Clay's orders?"

  "No, sir," the foreman answered unguardedly; "Mr. Aynsley had nothing todo with it. He didn't even know--" He broke off abruptly. "Anyhow,you're fired!"

  He turned away from them quickly; and Bethune, sitting down on a pile oflumber, took out his pipe.

  "Since I've got my notice with no reason given," he drawled, "I don'tsee why I should exhaust myself by carrying heavy planks about. Ofcourse you noticed his statement that Mr. Aynsley was notresponsible--though the fellow was afterward sorry he had made it. I'mof the opinion that there's something to be inferred from his use of ouremployer's Christian name, particularly as a big automobile stood at thegate for two hours yesterday. I shouldn't be surprised to learn thatClay, senior, had examined the pay-roll."

  "What's the blamed hog aiming at in getting after us like this?"questioned Moran.

  Bethune looked thoughtful.

  "He may wish to drive us out of the country; but I'm more inclined tobelieve he means to wear us out, and then make some proposition when hethinks we're tame enough."

  "He'll be badly disappointed if he expects we'll come to terms!" Jimmystrode up and down, his face flushed with anger. "Anyway, I can'tbelieve that Aynsley knows anything about this."

  "He doesn't." Bethune smiled grimly. "I know by experience how thescapegrace son tries to conceal his escapades from his respectablerelatives, but I rather think the unprincipled parent who doesn't wanthis children to find him out is more ingenious. All this, however, isn'tmuch to the purpose; we'll have the boys down on us unless we clear thelumber from the saws."

  They left the mill the next morning and tramped back to Vancouver in agenerally dejected mood.

  "What's to be done now?" asked Jimmy as they reached the outskirts ofthe city.

  "How about going down into the States and trying our luck?" Bethunesuggested. "We'd at least be out of Clay's reach--anywhere but Seattle."

  "What--run!" Jimmy exclaimed indignantly. "I stay right here!"

  "Me too!" grunted Moran.

  Bethune laughed.

  "Well, how about turning and charging the enemy? I'll admit that I'denjoy a good fight right now--physical or verbal."

  "Won't do," objected Moran; "we won't be well armed until we know justwhat those other boxes in the strong-room contain. Before we get achance to find out, I've an idea our enemy himself will make a move."

  And he did.