Chapter 34

THE NEW BOSS

The twilight of late autumn darkened the landscape as Bill Carmody found himself once again at the edge of the tiny clearing surrounding the cabin of Daddy Dunnigan.

Through the window, in the yellow lamplight of the interior, he could see the form of the old man as he hobbled back and forth between the stove and the table.

Remembering Creed, Bill feared the effect upon the old man should he present himself suddenly at the door. Advancing into the clearing, he whistled. Daddy Dunnigan paused, frying-pan in hand, and peered futilely out of the window. Again Bill whistled and watched as the other returned the pan to the stove and opened the door.

"Come on in out av that, ye shpalpeen!" called Dunnigan. "Ut's toime ye be comin' back to let th' owld man know how ye're farin'!"

Bill grasped the extended hand and peered into the twinkling eyes of the old Irishman.

"Well, Daddy, you don't seem much surprised."

"Oi know'd ye'd be along wan av these days, but ye tuk yer own toime about ut."

"How did you know I wasn't drowned in the river?"

"Sur-re, Oi know'd ye _wuz_--didn't Oi see ye go undher th' logs wid me own eyes? An' didn't th' jam go rippin' an' tearin' into th' rapids? An' c'd on-ny man live t'rough th' loike av that? Oi _know'd_ ye wuz dead--till Oi seed Creed. Thin Oi know'd ye wuzn't. But Moncrossen don't know ut--nor on-ny wan ilse, ondly me. Oi'd 'a' gone to hunt ye, ondly Oi know'd phwin th' toime suited ye ye'd come here; so Oi waited.

"Set by now er th' grub'll be cowld. They'll be toime fer palaverin' afther."

When the dishes had been washed and returned to their shelves the two seated themselves and lighted their pipes.

"You say Creed returned to Hilarity and told of having seen me?" asked Bill.

"Well, he did--an' he didn't," replied the old man slowly. "Ut's loike this: Along in July, ut wuz, Moncrossen an' his gang av bur-rd's-eye pirates come roarin' out av th' woods huntin' fer Creed. They'd wint in be th' river, but come out be th' tote-road, an' mad clean t'rough to th' gizzard. No wan hadn't seed um, an' they clum aboord th' thrain, cursin' an' swearin' vingince on Creed phwin they caught um.

"Thin, maybe it's two wakes afther, we wuz settin' in Burrage's phwin th' dure bust open, an' in come Rad Cranston loike th' divil wuz afther um.

"'They's a woild man,' he yells, 'come out av th' woods, an' he's tearin' things up in Creed's cabin!'

"Hod picks up a cleaver an' makes fer th' dure, wid us follyin' um, afther providin' oursilves wid what utinsils wuz layin' handy--a scythe here an' an axe there, an' some wan ilse wid a pitchfork. Rad brung up lasht wid a sixteen-pound posht-maul, bein' in no hurry at all fer another luk.

"Trut' is, none av us wuz in no great hurry--Creed's woman havin' cashed his pay-check an' skipped out--but at lasht we come to phwere we c'd see th' place, an' sure enough th' dure shtood open an' insoide come a racket av shmashin' furniture an' yellin' 'tw'd done proud to camp-meetin' salvation.

"Thin come a foine loud rattle av glass, an' out t'rough a windie come th' half av a chair, follyed be a len'th av shtovepoipe an' a grane glass wather-pitcher.

"Fer me own part, Oi'd seed such loike brick-a-brack befoor, an' besides Oi remimbered a dhrink Oi hadn't tuk earlier in th' evenin', so Oi shtarted workin' me way to th' back av th' crowd, th' bether some wan ilse c'd see.

"Oi'd no more thin tur-rned around phwin wid a whoop, 'tw'd wake th' dead, out t'rough th' windie come th' domnedest-lukin' cryther this side av Borneo, a wavin' over his head wan av th' owld lady Creed's rid cotton table-cloths--an' niver another stitch to his name but a leather belt wid about six inches av pants a hangin' onto ut, an' a pair av corked boots.

"Phwin Oi shtar-rted from Burrage's Oi laid holt av a man's-size crowbar, but at that minit th' thing Oi helt in me hand luked about th' heft av a tinpinny nail. Be that toime all th' others wuz av loike moind to me. They wuz considerable crowdin', an', bein' crippled, Oi dhropped me crowbar an' laid a good holt on th' tail av Hod's coat.

"Th' shtore wuz clost by, an' we had a good shtart; but th' thing that wuz afther us wuz thravelin' loight an' in foorty-fut leps.

"'Twuz a good race, an' wan Oi wanted to win; but, owin' to th' unyversal willin'ness av th' crowd to get into th' shtore, we plugged up th' dureway, an' befoor we c'd get unstuck th' thing wuz onto us, gibberin' an' jabberin' an' screamin' an' laughin' all to wunst.

"Ut tuk eight av us to howld um whilst Burrage toied um hand an' fut, an' phwin we'd dhrug um into th' shtore we seed 'twuz Creed hissilf. Twuz two days befoor th' sheriff come fer um, an' in th' mane toime he'd gabble an' yell about th' greener comin' afther um, an' how he come out av th' wather, an' so on.

"Th' rist think ut's th' shtayin' alone made um loony, but Oi put two an' two togither--here's Moncrossen losht his bur-rd's-eye an' Creed scairt witless be th' soight av th' greener--phwat's th' answer?

"Phy, th' b'y ain't dead at all. Some ways he got out av th' river, scairt th' dayloights out av Creed, an' made off wid th' bur-rd's-eye. Am Oi roight?"

"Exactly!" exclaimed Bill.

"Oi know'd ut! Ye've th' luck av Captain Fronte's own silf! That come out av ivery shcrape wid his loife, save th' lasht wan, an' he w'd thin av a domned nayger shell hadn't bust ag'in' his ribs--but that's toimes gone."

"I wonder where Moncrossen is now?"

"Right here in Hilarity; him an' his crew unloaded yisterday fer to shtar-rt fer th' camp in th' marnin'."

"I think I'll just let the boss believe I'm still in the river until after I have had a talk with Appleton. By the way, Daddy, how are you fixed for money?"

"Sure, Oi got more money thin a man ought to have--money in th' bank an' money in me pocket--take ut an' welcome"--he tossed a thick wallet onto the table--"ondly ye won't have to go to Minneapolis.

"Owld man Appleton's over to Creighton, eighty moiles wesht av here, sooperintindin' a new camp on Blood River, wan hundred an' tin moiles above Moncrossen's. Fallon's wid um, an' Shtromberg, an' a lot more av th' good min that's toired av worrkin' undher Moncrossen."

"He is not bossing the camp himself!" exclaimed Bill.

"No, but he's got to kape an eye on't. Fallon'll be a kind av shtraw boss an' luk afther th' wor-rk, but th' owld man'll have to figger th' toime an' th' scale--Fallon ain't got no aggicatin'.

"'Tis roight glad Oi'm thinkin' th' owld man'll be to lay eyes on ye. They say he wuz all bruk up phwin he heerd ye wuz dhr-rounded."

Bill's visit to Hilarity was known to no one except Daddy Dunnigan, and the following evening after Moncrossen's departure for the woods, the two proceeded to the railway by a circuitous route.

Unobserved, he swung aboard the caboose of the local freight-train which stood at the tiny platform, discharging goods.

"He'll be afther makin' ye boss av th' new camp," opined the old man from his position beside a pile of ties. "An' av ye nade a cook just dhrop me a loine an' Oi'll come."

"I haven't got the job yet," laughed Bill.

"But ye will. Owld Appleton'll be glad enough not havin' to come thrapsin' into th' woods ivery month or so durin' th' winther." The old man leaned forward upon his crutch, and with pathetic eagerness scanned the face of the younger man.

"Me b'y," he said, "av yer plans is changed--wor-rd from th' gir-rl, or what not, that'll be takin' ye back to Noo Yor-rk--ye'll take me wid ye?

"Oi may be a bit owld, but Oi'm as good as iver Oi wuz. Oi c'd lear-rn to run yer otymobile er take care av th' harses, er moind th' babies, ut makes no difference; for whilst a McKim lives owld Dunnigan belongs to luk afther um."

"Never fear, Daddy!" cried Bill, as the train jerked into motion. "Now that we've found each other, we'll stick together until the end." And he stood silent upon the steps of the caboose until the figure of the old Irishman blended into the background.

In the front room of the one-story building with its undeceptive two-story front, where Appleton had established his headquarters in the little town of Creighton, the lumber magnate sat talking with Irish Fallon.

The tote-road leading to the new camp had been pushed to completion, and Appleton was giving Fallon some final instructions.

"I must leave for Minneapolis in the morning," he said. "Do the best you can, and I will run up as often as possible."

"Oi'll do ut, sorr," replied Irish. "Oi c'n lay down th' logs all roight; th' throuble'll be wid th' figgers. If ondly me frind, Bill, wuz here--sure, there wuz th' foine lad!"

Appleton pulled at his gray mustache and regarded the other thoughtfully.

"You knew him well--this Bill?" he asked.

"Oi wuz th' fur-rst whoite man he seen in th' woods th' day he stud knee-dape in th' shnow av th' tote-road, lukin' down at th' carcass av D'ablish. An' from that toime on till he wint down undher th' logs we wuz loike two brothers--ondly more so."

"Pretty good man, was he?"

"A-a-h, there wuz a man!" Fallon's big fist banged noisily upon the table, and his blue eyes lighted as he faced his employer. "Misther Appleton, ye losht a _man_ phwin th' greener wint undher. Fearin' nayther God, man, nor th' divil, he come into th' woods, an' in wan sayson lear-rnt more about logs thin th' most av us'll iver know."

"Moncrossen liked him--spoke very highly of him, and that is unusual with Moncrossen." Fallon's breath whistled through his teeth at the words.

"Loiked um, did he? Sure he loiked um--loike a rabbit loikes a wolf!"

He leaned forward in his chair, punctuating his remarks with stabs of a huge forefinger upon the other's knee.

"Misther Appleton, Moncrossen _hated um_! An' ivery man along th' river that day knows that av ut wuzn't fer Moncrossen, th' greener'd be livin' this minit--ondly we can't pr-roove ut. Th' boss hated um because he wuz a bether man--because he know'd he wuz a clane man, wid a foightin' hear-rt an' two fists an' th' guts to carry um t'rough. He chilled th' har-rt av th' boss th' fur-rst noight he seen um, an' from thin on th' fear wuz upon um fer th' bird's-eye."

"The bird's-eye?" inquired Appleton. "What do you mean?"

Fallon hesitated; his enthusiasm had carried him further than he had intended. He gazed out of the window, wondering how to proceed, when his eyes fastened upon a large, heavily bearded man who approached rapidly down the wooden sidewalk, a folded mackinaw swung carelessly across the fringed arm of his buckskin shirt.

The iron latch rattled; the man entered, closed the door behind him, and, turning, faced the two with a smile. For a long moment the men gazed at the newcomer in silence; then Fallon's chair crashed backward upon the floor as the Irishman leaped to his feet.

"Thim _eyes_!" he cried, throwing a huge arm across the man's shoulders and shaking him violently in his excitement. "Bill! Bill! Fer th' love av God, tell me 'tis yersilf! Ye damn' shcoundril, ain't ye dhrounded at all, at all? An' phwere ye ben kapin' yersilf?"

Bill laughed aloud and wrung Appleton's hand.

The lumberman had risen to his feet, staring incredulously into the other's face while he repeated over and over again: "My boy! My boy!"

Fallon danced about, waving his arms and shouting: "Th' new camp'll go t'rough hell a whoopin'! Bill'll be boss, an' th' min'll tear out th' bone to bate Moncrossen!"

Order was finally restored, and the three seated themselves while Bill recounted his adventures. Appleton's brow clouded as he learned the details of the bird's-eye plot.

"So that's the way he worked it?" he exclaimed. "I knew that there was some bird's-eye in the timber, and that I was not getting it. But I laid it to outside thieves--never supposed one of my own foremen was double-crossing me.

"That is Moncrossen's finish!" he added grimly. "I need him this winter. Too many contracts to afford to do without him. In the spring, though, there will be an accounting; and mark my words, he will get what is coming to him!"

"What next--for me?" asked Bill.

Appleton smiled.

"I think Fallon has disposed of your case," he replied. "My boy, I want you to take this new camp and _get out logs_. I won't set any specific amount, I will tell you this: I _must_ have twenty-five million feet out of the Blood River country this winter. You are the first inexperienced man I have ever placed in charge of a camp. I don't know what you can do. I'll take the chance. It's up to you.

"My camps are run without interference from the office. Results count with me--not methods. Feed your crew all they can eat--of the best you can get. Knock a man down first and argue with him afterward. Let them know who is boss, and you will have no trouble. Don't be afraid to spend money, but _get out the logs_!"

The following morning the new foreman stood upon the platform of the station as the heavy, vestibuled Imperial Limited ground to a stop, under special orders to take on the great lumberman.

"So-long, Bill!" Appleton called. "See you next month. Bringing a party into the woods for a deer-hunt. May put up at your camp for a couple of weeks."

The train pulled out for the East, leaving Bill Carmody gazing, just a shade wistfully, perhaps, at the contented-looking men and women who flashed past upon the rich plush cushions.

But as the last coach passed he squared his shoulders with a jerk and turned quickly away.