Joan of Arc of the North Woods Part 13

She did not know how or whether one girl could prevail against the organization threatening her grandfather and Latisan, but she was fully determined to find out.

She served the agency dutifully for one more day. She learned that the two operatives had started for the north.

A day later she departed from New York on their trail. She did not inform Chief Mern that she was leaving.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Adonia, terminus of the narrow-gauge, has one train arrival per day, in the late afternoon. That arrival always attracts the populace of the village. The train brings freight and mail and pa.s.sengers.

Ward Latisan had come down from the headwaters of the Noda and was at the station, waiting for the train. He had ordered more dynamite for the drive and proposed to take especial charge of the consignment. The drive was starting off slowly. There was ice in the gorges; the first logs through would have the freshet head of water. Latisan had heard more threats and he had definitely detected the trigs which the river bosses of the Three C's were laying--and he had ordered more dynamite!

The arriving train dragged slowly into the station and Latisan kept pace with the freight car which was attached next behind the locomotive.

The conductor swung off the steps of the coach before the train halted.

He hailed Latisan, calling the name loudly. He beckoned with vigor and the drive master swung around and walked back to meet the trainman.

"I did my best, Latisan, to have your shipment loaded from the freight car on the main line, but they wouldn't let me."

"Who wouldn't?"

"Our super. He was acting under orders from higher up. There was a special officer on hand to see that the orders were obeyed. Law says that explosives shall not be conveyed on a mixed train."

"I know all about that law," retorted Latisan. "But it has been eased up on in these parts because you pull a pa.s.senger coach on every train."

"But law is law; it has been jammed down on us!"

"You mean that Craig has put the twist ring into your snout," shouted the drive master. "And he's leading your railroad by the nose like he's leading a good many others in the Noda country."

"I'm only a hired man----"

"And the Three C's will have everybody in this section hired if the money holds out, and that's the h.e.l.l of it!"

"Look here, Latisan, you're on railroad property, and that's no kind of talk to have over in front of pa.s.sengers."

The train was at a standstill; the new arrivals were on the platform.

Latisan, well advertised by the name the conductor had bawled, glanced around and perceived that he was the center of observation. Especially was he concerned with the direct stare of a young woman; she continued to regard him steadfastly and he allowed his attention to be engaged with her for a moment.

Latisan had his own mental tags for womankind; this was "a lady." He had set himself back to the plane of the woods and his rough a.s.sociates. He felt a woodsman's nave embarra.s.sment in the presence of a lady. Her survey of him was rebuke for his language, he was sure. There could be no other reason why "a lady" should look at a man who was fresh down from the drive, unshaven and roughly garbed. She was from town, he could see that. Those sparkling eyes seemed like something that was aimed at him; he was in a helpless, hands-up sort of mood!

He pulled off his cap. He had the courageous frankness of sincere manhood, at any rate. "I'm sorry! I was expecting dynamite. It didn't come. I blew up just the same."

The lady smiled.

Then she turned and started away.

A stout man had been standing close behind her. n.o.body among the loungers at the railroad station entertained any doubt whatever as to just what this stranger was. His clothes, his sample case, his ogling eyes, his hat c.o.c.kily perched on one side of his head proclaimed him "a fresh drummer," according to Adonia estimates.

He leaped forward and caught step with the girl. "Pardon! But I'm going your way! Allow me!" He set his hand on her traveling case.

She halted and frowned. "I thank you. I can carry it myself!"

"But I heard you asking the conductor the way to the hotel. I'm going right there!"

"So am I, sir! But not in your company."

"Oh, come on and be sociable! We're the only two of our kind up among these bushwhackers."

Miss Elsham's fellow operative was stressing his play; he grabbed away her bag. "We may as well get a quick rise out of him," muttered Crowley. It was a plan they had devised in case their man should help their luck by being at the railroad station.

"I'll call an officer!" she threatened.

"You don't need to," Latisan informed her. He had followed the couple.

"Besides, there isn't any. The only place they need officers is in a city where a rab like this is let run loose." He leaped to the stout chap and yanked away the girl's bag. "I'll carry it if you're going to the tavern."

She accepted his proffer with another smile--a smile into which she put a touch of understanding comradeship. They walked along together.

There was no conversation. The spring flood of the Noda tumbled past the village in a series of falls, and the earth was jarred, and there was an everlasting grumble in the air. The loungers stared with great interest when the drive master and the girl went picking their way along the muddy road.

The volunteer squire delivered the traveling bag into the hand of Martin Brophy, who was on the porch of the tavern, his eye c.o.c.ked to see what guests the train had delivered into his net. Mr. Brophy handled the bag gingerly and was greatly fl.u.s.tered when the self-possessed young lady demanded a room with a bath.

Latisan did not wait to listen to Brophy's apologies in behalf of his tavern's facilities. He touched his cap to the discomposing stranger and marched up to the big house on the ledges; he was not approaching with alacrity what was ahead of him.

He had arrived in Adonia from headwaters the previous evening, and had spent as much of that evening as his endurance would allow, listening to Echford Flagg, sitting in his big chair and cursing the fetters of fate and paralysis. Unable to use his limbs, he exercised his tongue all the more.

That forenoon and again in the afternoon Latisan had gone to the big house and had submitted himself to unreasonable complaints when he reported on what was going forward at headwaters. He had ventured to expostulate when the master told him how the thing ought to be done.

"No two drive bosses operate the same, sir. And the whole situation is different this season."

"It was your offer to be my right hand, young Latisan--and I'm drive boss still! You move as I order and command."

Ward was wondering how long the Latisan temperament could be restrained.

In the matter of Craig at the tavern the scion of old John had been afforded disquieting evidence that the temperament was not to be trusted too far.

He entered the mansion without knocking; it was the custom.

Flagg was reading aloud from a big Bible for which Rickety d.i.c.k had rigged props on the arm of the chair. d.i.c.k was sitting on a low stool, the sole auditor of the master's declamation. The old servitor was peeling onions from a dish between his knees; therefore, his tears of the moment were of questionable nature.

The caller stood for a time outside the open door of the room, averse to tempting the hazard of Flagg's temper by an interruption of what seemed to be absorbing all the attention of the old man.

"'My flesh and my skin hath he made old; he hath broken my bones. He hath builded against me, and compa.s.sed me with gall and travail. He hath set me in dark places as they that be dead of old. He hath hedged me about, that I cannot get out: he hath made my chain heavy.'"

Flagg halted and looked up from the page. "Lamentations--lamentations, d.i.c.k! The best of 'em have whined when the smash came. It's human nature to let out a holler. Jeremiah did it. I'm in good company; it ain't crying baby; it's putting up a real man holler. It's----"

Latisan stepped through the doorway.