The Rainy Day Railroad War Part 19

A murmur almost like applause went through the crowd.

"Men," broke in Parker, "I cannot expect to have friends here, and you may all be enemies, but I have come back, knowing that woodsmen are on the side of grit and fair dealing. Listen to me!"

In college Parker had been cla.s.s orator and a debater of power. Now he stood on a block of wood, and gazed upon a hundred bearded faces, on which the flickering firelight played eerily. In the hush he could hear the big winds wailing through the trees outside.

Ward stood in advance of the rest, his mighty fists clinched, his face quivering and puckering in his pa.s.sion. As the young man began to speak, he attempted to bellow him into silence. But Connick strode forward, put his ma.s.sive hands on Gideon's shoulders, and thrust him down upon a near-by seat. The big woodsman, his rebellion once started, seemed to exult in it.

"One of the by-laws of this ly-cee-um is that the meetin' sha'n't be disturbed!" he growled. "Colonel Gid Ward, ye will kindly listen to this speech for the good of the order or I'll gag ye! You've had a good many years to talk to us in and you've done it. Go ahead, young man! You've got the floor an' Dan Connick's in the chair." He rolled his sleeves above his elbows and gazed truculently on the a.s.semblage.

"For your brother's sake," cried the young engineer, "I offer you one more chance to listen to reason, Colonel Gideon Ward! Do you take it?"

"No!" was the infuriated shout.

"Then listen to the story of a scoundrel!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: Listen to the story of a scoundrel 216-246]

The men did listen, for Parker spoke with all the eloquence that indignation and honest sentiment could inspire. He first told the story of the wrecked life of the brother, and pointed to the bent figure of the hermit of Little Moxie, standing in the shadows. Once or twice Joshua lifted his quavering voice in feeble protest, but the ringing tones of the young man overbore his halting speech. Several times Connick was obliged to force the colonel back on the deacons' seat, each time with more ferocity of mien.

Then Parker came to his own ambitions to carry out the orders of his employers. He explained the legal status of the affair, and pa.s.sed quickly on to the exciting events of the night on which he had been bound and sent upon his ride into the forest, to meet some fate, he knew not what. He described the brutal slaughter of the moose, and the immediate dismemberment of the animal. He noticed with interest that many men who had displayed no emotion as he described poor old Joshua's sufferings now grunted angrily at hearing the revelation concerning the fate of Ben, the camp mascot. This dramatic explanation of Ward's furious cruelty to the poor beast proved, curiously enough, the turning point in Parker's favor, even with the roughest of the crew. Then Parker described how he had been rescued and brought back to life by the old man whom Gideon Ward had so abused.

"And now, my men," he concluded, "I am come back among you; and I ask you all to stand back, so that it may now be man to man--so that I may take this brutal tyrant who has abused us all, and deliver him over to the law that is waiting to punish him as he deserves."

He leaped down, seized a halter, and advanced with the apparent intention of seizing and binding the colonel.

"Are ye goin' to stand here, ye hunderd cowards, an' see the man that gives ye your livin' lugged away to jail?" Gideon shouted, retreating.

He glared on their faces. The men turned their backs and moved away.

He crouched almost to the floor, brandis.h.i.+ng his fists above his head.

"I've got ten camps in this section," he shrieked, "an' any one of them will back me aginst the whole United States army if I ask 'em to! They ain't the cowards that I've got here. I'll come back here an' pay ye off for this!"

Before any one could stop him, for the men had left him standing alone, he precipitated his body through the panes of gla.s.s of the nearest window, and almost before the crash had ceased he was making away into the night Connick led the rush of men to the narrow door, but the mob was held them for a few precious moments, fighting with one another for egress.

"If we don't catch him," the foreman roared, "he'll be back on us with an army of cut-throats!"

But when the crew went streaming forth at last, Colonel Ward was out of sight in the forest. Lanterns were brought, and the search prosecuted earnestly, but his moccasined feet were not to be traced on the frozen crust.

The chase was abandoned after an hour, for the clouds that had hung heavy all day long began to sift down snow; and soon a blizzard howled through the thres.h.i.+ng spruces and hemlocks.

"It's six miles to the nearest camp," said Connick, when the crew was again a.s.sembled at Number 7, "an' in order to dodge us he prob'ly kept out of the tote-road. I should say that the chances of Gid Ward's ever get-tin' out o' the woods alive in this storm wa'n't worth that!" He snapped his fingers.

"It is not right for us to come back here an' leave him out there!"

cried the brother.

"He took his chances," the foreman replied, "when he went through that window. There's a good many reasons why I'd like to see him back here, Mr. Ward, but I'm sorry to have to tell ye, ye bein' a brother of his, that love ain't one o' them."

"I shall go alone, then," said the old man, firmly.

"Brotherly love is worth respect, Mr. Ward," Connick declared, "but I ain't the kind of man that stands idle an' sees suicide committed. Ye've done your full duty by your brother. Now I'm goin' to do my duty by you.

You don't go through that door till this storm is over!"

The next day the wind raged on and the snow piled its drifts. Joshua Ward sat silent by the fire, his head in his hands, or stood in the "dingle," gazing mournfully out into the smother of snowflakes. It would be a mad undertaking to venture abroad. He realized it and needed no further restraint.

But the dawn of the third day was crisp and bright. Soon after sunrise a panting woodsman, traveling at his top speed on snow-shoes, halted for a hasty bite at Number 7. He was a messenger from the camp above.

"Colonel Gid Ward was picked up yesterday froze pretty nigh solid!" he gulped out, between his mouthfuls. "I'm goin' down for a doctor," and then he went striding away, even as Joshua Ward took the up-trail.

Parker spent all that day in sober thought, and then, forming his resolution, took pa.s.sage on the first tote-team that went floundering through toward Sunkhaze. His departure was neither hindered nor encouraged.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN--HOW RODNEY PARKER PAID AN HONEST DEBT

The engineer found his little garrison holding the fort at the Poquette Carry camp--and confining their attentions wholly to holding the fort.

Not an ax blow had been struck since his hurried departure.

"We didn't work no more," explained one of the men, "because we'd give up all idea of seein you ag'in. Of course we reckoned that a new boss would prob'ly be comin' along pretty quick and we thought we'd wait and find out just what he wanted us to do."

"Well, it will be the same old boss and the same old plan," replied Parker curtly. The idea that the men had considered him such easy prey made him indignant. "You'll consider after this that I'm the Colonel Gideon Ward of this six-mile stretch here."

"I reckon there won't be any real Gid Ward any more," said the man.

"Feller went through here last night, hi-larrup for 'lection, to git a doc for Gid. Seems he got caught out and froze up somehow--tho I never s'picioned that weather would have any effect on the old sanup. P'rhaps you've been hearin' all about how it happened? Feller wouldn't stop long enough to explain to us." The man's gaze was full of inquisitiveness and the others crowded around to listen.

But with self-repression truly admirable Parker told them that he had no news to give out concerning Colonel Ward, of any nature whatsoever.

He ordered the driver of the tote-team to whip up and rode away toward Sunkhaze, leaving the men gaping after him.

He observed the same reticence at the settlement, tho he was received with a demonstration that was something like an ovation.

Although his better sense told him that the men were justified in preserving neutrality at the time of the raid, yet he could not rid himself of the very human feeling of resentment because they had surrendered him so readily into the hands of his adversaries. But the chief influence that prompted silence was the fear lest details of his mishap and the reasons therefor would get into the newspapers to the annoyance of his employers.

"I am back and the work is going on just as tho nothing had happened,"

he said to the men who crowded into the office of the tavern to congratulate him. "Matters have been straightened out and the less talk that's made the better."

But the postmaster, presuming on more intimate acquaintance, followed him up to his room, where his effects had been carefully preserved for him.

"I reckoned you'd get back some time," said Dodge. "I've predicted that much. But, I swanny, I didn't look for you to come back with your tail over the dasher, as you've done. That is, I didn't look for you to come that way not until that feller blew in here to telegraft for a doctor for old Gid. Then I see that it was him that was got done up instead of you. But speakin' of telegraftin', there ain't no word gone out from here as yit about the hoorah--not a word."

"Do you mean that Sunkhaze has kept the Swamp Swogon affair and my kidnapping quiet?" demanded Parker, his face lighting up. He had been fearing what might have gone out to the world about the affair.

"A good many was all of a to-do to telegraft it to the sheriff and to your bosses," said the postmaster calmly. "But it seemed better to me to wait a while. I says, 'Look here, neighbors, it's goin' to be some time before the sheriff can git his crowd together and git at Ward--and even then there'll be politics to consider. The sheriff won't move anyway till he gits the word of the Lumbermen's a.s.sociation. And it'll probably happen by that time that the young man will show up here again. All we'll git out of it hereabouts is a black eye in the newspapers--it bein' held up that Sunkhaze ain't a safe place to settle in. And all that truck--you know! Furthermore, from things you've dropped to me, Mr. Parker, I knew you were playin' kind of a lone hand and a quiet game here. My old father used to say, 'Run hard when you run, but don't start so sudden that you stub your toe and tumble down.' So in your case I just took the responsibility and held the thing back."

The postmaster's eyes were searching Parker's face for signal of approbation.

The engineer went to him and shook his hand with hearty emphasis.

"You've got a level head, Mr. Postmaster," he said, delightedly. "We'll start exactly where we left off and so far as I am concerned the place will never get a bad name from me. In return for your frankness and your service to me, I'll give you a hint as to what happened to Colonel Ward.

I know you won't abuse my confidence."