Connie Morgan in the Lumber Camps Page 2

  CHAPTER I

  CONNIE MORGAN GOES "OUTSIDE"

  With an exclamation of impatience, Waseche Bill pushed a formidablelooking volume from him and sat, pen in hand, scowling down at the sheetof writing paper upon the table before him. "I done give fo' dollahs fo'that dictionary down to Faihbanks an' it ain't wo'th fo' bits!"

  "What's the matter with it?" grinned Connie Morgan, glancing across thetable into the face of his partner.

  "The main matteh with it is that it ain't no good. It's plumb full of alot of wo'ds that no one wouldn't know what yo' was talkin' about if yo'said 'em, an' the common ones a man has got some use fo' is left out."

  "What word do you want? I learned to spell quite a lot of words inschool."

  "Gillum."

  "What?"

  "Gillum--I want to write a letteh to Mike Gillum. They ain't no bettehman nowheahs than Mike. He's known all along the Tanana an' in theloggin' woods outside, an' heah's this book that sets up to show folkshow to spell, an' it cain't even spell Mike Gillum."

  Connie laughed. "Gillum is a proper name," he explained, "anddictionaries don't print proper names."

  "They might a heap betteh leave out some of the impropeh an' redic'lousones they've got into 'em, then, an' put in some of the propeh ones. Iain't pleased with that book, nohow. It ain't no good. It claims fo' toshow how to spell wo'ds, an' when yo' come to use it yo' got to knowhow to spell the wo'd yo' huntin' fo' oah yo' cain't find it. The onlywo'ds yo' c'n find when yo' want 'em is the ones yo' c'n spell anyhow,so what's the use of findin' 'em?"

  "But, there's the definitions. It tells you what the words mean."

  Waseche Bill snorted contemptuously. "What they mean!" he exclaimed."Well, if yo' didn't know what they mean, yo' wouldn't be wantin' to usethem, nohow, an' yo' wouldn't care a doggone how they was spelt, noah ifthey was spelt at all oah not. Fact is, I didn't give the matteh nothought when I bought it. If it had be'n a big deal I wouldn't have be'ntook in, that way. In the hotel at Faihbanks, it was, when I was comin'in. The fellow I bought it off of seemed right pleased with the book.Why, he talked enough about it to of sold a claim. I got right tiredlistenin' to him, so I bought it. But, shucks, I might of know'd if thebook had be'n any good he wouldn't have be'n so anxious to get red ofit."

  "Where is this Mike Gillum?" Connie asked, as he folded a paper andreturned it to a little pile of similar papers that lay before him onthe table.

  "I don't jest recollec' now, but I got the place copied down in mynotebook. It's some town back in Minnesota."

  "Minnesota!"

  "Yes. Fact is we be'n so blamed busy all summeh right heah in Ten Bow,I'd plumb forgot about ouh otheh interests, till the nippy weatheh donereminded me of 'em."

  "I didn't know we had any other interests," smiled the boy.

  "It's this way," began Waseche Bill, as he applied a match to his pipeand settled back in his chair. "When I was down to the hospital lastfall they brought in a fellow fo' an operation an' put him in the roomnext to mine. The first day he stuck his nose out the do', I seen it wasMike Gillum--we'd prospected togetheh oveh on the Tanana, yeahs back,an' yo' bet yo' boots I was glad to see someone that had been up heah inthe big country an' could talk sensible about it without askin' a lot offool questions about what do the dawgs drink in winteh if everythin'sfroze up? An' ain't we afraid we'll freeze to death? An' how high is themountains? An' did you know my mother's cousin that went up to Alaskaafter gold in '98? While he was gettin' well, we had some great oldpowwows, an' he told me how he done got sick of prospectin' an' wentback to loggin'. He's a fo'man, now, fo' some big lumbeh syndicate inone of theih camps up in no'the'n Minnesota."

  "One day we was settin' a smokin' ouh pipes an' he says to me,'Waseche,' he says, 'you've got the dust to do it with, why don't youtake a li'l flyeh in timbeh?' I allowed minin' was mo' in my line, an'he says, 'That's all right, but this heah timbeh business is a bigproposition, too. Jest because a man's got one good thing a-goin', ain'tno sign he'd ort to pass up anotheh. It's this way,' he says: 'Up to'dsthe haid of Dogfish Riveh, they's a four-thousand-acre tract of timbehthat's surrounded on three sides by the Syndicate holdin's. Fo' yeahsthe Syndicate's be'n tryin' to get holt of this tract, but the man thatowns it would die befo' he'd let 'em put an axe to a stick of it. Theydone him dirt some way a long time ago an' he's neveh fo'got it. Heain't got the capital to log it, an' he won't sell to the Syndicate. Buthe needs the money, an' if some private pahty come along that would takeit off his hands an' agree to neveh sell it to the Syndicate, he coulddrive a mighty good ba'gain. I know logs,' Mike says, 'an' I'm tellin'yo' there ain't a betteh strip of timbeh in the State.'

  "'Why ain't no one grabbed it befo'?' I asks.

  "'Because this heah McClusky that owns it is a mighty suspicious ol'man, an' he's tu'ned down about a hund'ed offehs because he know'd theywas backed by the Syndicate.'

  "'Maybe he'd tu'n down mine, if I'd make him one,' I says.

  "Mike laughed. 'No,' he says, 'spite of the fact that I'm one of theSyndicate's fo'men, ol' man McClusky takes my wo'd fo' anything I tellhim. Him an' my ol' dad come oveh f'om Ireland togetheh. I'd go a longways around to do ol' Mac a good tu'n, an' he knows it. Fact is, it's methat put him wise that most of the offehs he's had come from theSyndicate--my contract with 'em callin' fo' handlin' loggin' crews, an'not helpin' 'em skin folks out of their timbeh. If I'd slip the we'd toMac to sell to you, he'd sell.'"

  Waseche refilled his pipe, and Connie waited eagerly for his big partnerto proceed. "Well," continued the man, "he showed me how it was an awfulgood proposition, so I agreed to take it oveh. I wanted Mike should comein on it, but he wouldn't--Mike's squah as a die, an' he said hiscontract has got three mo' yeahs to run, an' it binds him not to engagein no private business oah entehprise whateveh while it's in fo'ce.

  "Befo'e Mike left the hospital he sent fo' McClusky, an' we closed thedeal. That was last fall, an' I told Mike that as long as the timbeh wastheah, I might's well staht gettin' it out. He wa'ned me to keep my eyeon the Syndicate when I stahted to layin' 'em down, but befo'e he'd gota chance to give me much advice on the matteh, theah come a telegram fo'him to get to wo'k an' line up his crew an' get into the woods. Befo'ehe left, though, he said he'd send me down a man that might do fo' afo'man. Said he couldn't vouch for him no mo'n that he was a tiptoplogman, an' capable of handlin' a crew in the woods. So he come, JakeHurley, his name is, an' he's a big red Irishman. I didn't jest like hislooks, an' some of his talk, but I didn't know wheah to get anyone elseso I took a chance on him an' hired him to put a crew into the woods an'get out a small lot of timbeh." Waseche Bill crossed the room and,unlocking a chest, tossed a packet of papers onto the table. "It's allin theah," he said grimly. "They got out quite a mess of logs, an' inthe spring when they was drivin' 'em down the Dogfish Riveh, to get 'eminto the Mississippi, they fouled a Syndicate drive. When things gotstraightened out, we was fo'teen thousan' dollahs to the bad."

  The little clock ticked for a long time while Connie carefully examinedthe sheaf of papers. After a while he looked up. "Why, if it hadn't beenfor losing our logs we would have cleaned up a good profit!" heexclaimed.

  HURLEY]

  Waseche Bill nodded. "Yes--if. But the fact is, we didn't clean up noprofit, an' we got the tract on ouh hands with no one to sell it to,cause I passed ouh wo'd I wouldn't sell it--o' co'se McClusky couldn'thold us to that acco'din' to law, but I reckon, he won't have to. I gotus into this heah mess unbeknownst to you, so I'll jest shouldeh theloss, private, an'----"

  "You'll _what!_" interrupted Connie, wrathfully. And then grinnedgood-humouredly as he detected the twinkle in Waseche Bill's eye.

  "I said, I c'n get a raise out of yo' any time I'm a mind to try, cain'tI?"

  "You sure can," laughed the boy. "But just so you don't forget it, wesettled this partnership business for good and all, a couple of yearsago."

  Waseche nodded as he glanced affectionately into the face of the boy."Yes, son, I reckon that's done set
tled," he answered, gravely. "But thequestion is, now we ah into this thing, how we goin' to get out?"

  "Fight out, of course!" exclaimed the boy, his eyes flashing. "The firstthing for us to find out is, whether the fouling of that drive wasaccidental or was done purposely. And why we didn't get what was comingto us when the logs were sorted."

  "I reckon that's done settled, as fah as _knowin'_ it's conse'ned.Provin' it will be anotheh matteh." He produced a letter from hispocket. "This come up in the mail," he said. "It's from Mike Gillum.Mike, he writes a middlin' sho't letteh, but he says a heap. It waswrote from Riverville, Minnesota, on July the tenth."

  "FRIEND WASECHE:

  "Just found out Hurley is on pay roll of the Syndicate. Look alive.

  "MIKE."

  "Double crossed us," observed the boy, philosophically.

  "Yes, an' the wo'st of it is, he wouldn't sign up without a two-yeahcontract. Said some yeahs a boss has bad luck an' he'd ort to be give achance to make good."

  "I'm glad of it," said Connie. "I think he'll get his chance, allright."

  Waseche looked at his small partner quizzically. "What do yo' mean?" heasked.

  "Let's go to bed. It's late," observed the boy, evasively. "Maybe in themorning we'll have it doped out."

  At breakfast the following morning Connie looked at Waseche Bill, andWaseche looked at Connie. "I guess it's up to me," smiled the boy.

  "Yo' mean----?"

  "I mean that the only way to handle this case is to handle it from thebottom up. First we've got to get this Jake Hurley with the goods, andwhen we've got him out of the way, jump in and show the Syndicate thatthey've run up against an outfit it don't pay to monkey with. Thattimber is ours, and we're going to have it!"

  "That sums the case right pert as fa' as talkin' goes, but how we goin'to do it? If we go down theah an' kick Hurley out, we've got to pay himfo' a whole winteh's wo'k he ain't done an' I'd hate to do that. Wedon't neitheh one of us know enough about loggin' to run the camp, an'if we was to hunt up anotheh fo'man, chances is he'd be as bad asHurley, mebbe wo'se."

  "There's no use in both of us going. You're needed here, and besidesthere wouldn't be much you could do if you were there. Hurley don't knowme, and I can go down and get enough on him by spring to put him awaywhere he can think things over for a while. I've just finished a year'sexperience in handling exactly such characters as he is."

  Waseche Bill grinned. "I met up with Dan McKeeveh comin' in," he said."From what I was able to getheh, heahin' him talk, I reckon they cain'tbe many bad men left oveh on the Yukon side."

  "Dan was prejudiced," laughed Connie. "I did just what any one elsewould have done--what good men any place you put 'em have _got_ to do,or they wouldn't be good men. After I'd found out what had to be done, Ifigured out the most sensible way of doing it, and then did it the bestI knew how. I haven't lived with men like you, and Dan, and MacDougall,and the rest of the boys, for nothing----"

  "Jest yo' stick to that way of doin', son, an', I reckon, yo'll findit's about all the Bible yo'll need. But, about this heah trip to theoutside. I sho' do hate to have yo' go down theh, so fah away fromanywhehs. S'posin' somethin' should happen to yo'. Why, I don't reckon Ieveh would get oveh blamin' myself fo' lettin' yo' go."

  "Any one would think I was a girl," smiled the boy. "But I guess if Ican take care of myself up here, I can handle anything I'll run upagainst outside."

  "What do yo' aim to do when yo' get theah?"

  "The first thing to do will be to hunt up Mike Gillum and have a talkwith him. After that--well, after that, I'll know what to do."

  Waseche Bill regarded the boy thoughtfully as he passed his fingersslowly back and forth along his stub-bearded jaw. "I reckon yo' will,son," he said, "from what I know of yo', an' what Dan done tol' me,comin' in, I jest reckon yo' will."

  When Connie Morgan made up his mind to do a thing he went ahead and didit. Inside of a week the boy had packed his belongings, bid good-bye toTen Bow, and started upon the journey that was to take him far from hisbeloved Alaska, and plunge him into a series of adventures that were topit his wits against the machinations of a scheming corporation.