Joan of Arc of the North Woods Part 43

A heavy fog draped the mountains and was packed in stifling ma.s.ses in the river valley.

Crews in shifts marched tirelessly around the capstans of the headworks.

Their voices out in the white opaqueness sounded strangely under the sounding-board of the fog.

It was a brooding, ominous, baleful sort of a day, when shapes were distorted in the mists and all sounds were magnified in queer fashion and the echoes played pranks with distances and locations and directions.

Out of the murky blank came one who had gone a-scouting. He touched his cap to the girl and reported to her and to all who were in hearing.

"The Three C's chief pirate has got along. Craig is down at the dam. I was able to crawl up mighty close in the fog. I heard him. He's ugly!"

"I reckoned he would be a mite peevish as soon as the news of the social happenings along the river for the past few days got to him," said Vittum. "It's no surprise to me--been expecting him!"

"He's got a special edge on his temper--has been all bunged up by an auto accident, so I heard him giving out to the men he was talking to."

"And what's he saying of particular interest to us?"

"Says he's going to stick right at Skulltree and kill us off singly and in bunches, just as we happen to come along."

"News is news, and it's good or bad according to the way you look at it," declared the old man. "Does that fresh news scare anybody?"

There was a vigorous chorus of denial; when one man averred that the statement only made the fight more worth while he was indorsed with great heartiness.

"All right!" agreed Vittum. "We'll consider that point settled." He drew a long breath; he inquired with anxious solicitude; "Did you overhear him saying anything about Latisan? He might have heard something, coming in fresh from outside."

The scout gave the girl a glance of apology; he was a tactless individual in shading facts. "Of course, all that Three C's bunch is liars, and Craig worst of all. But I did hear him say that Latisan is loafing in New York and is prob'ly in jail by this time."

The girl rose and walked away, and the fog shut her from their sight immediately. She heard the old man cursing the incautious scout. "Why the blazes didn't you smooth it? You've gone to work and hurt her feelings. She made her mistake, and she admits it. We all make our mistakes," said the rebuker. "But she's true blue! I ain't laying up anything against Latisan because he doesn't show up. It's because the girl is here that we are making men of ourselves right now. She's deserving of all we can give her. By gad! say I, she's going to make good with our help."

She was a considerable distance down the river path, but she heard that speech and the shout of the men indorsing the declaration.

Lida hastened as rapidly as she was able along the path that led to Skulltree; she had reconnoitered on the previous day--going as near the dam as she dared, trying to make the lay of the land suggest some method by which battle might be avoided.

While she ran down the path that morning she was arriving at some definite conclusions. The news about Director Craig had put desperate courage into her. The upper and the nether millstones of men and events in the north country had begun their grim revolutions; she resolved to cast herself between those stones in an effort to save faithful men who were innocent of fault.

When the dull rumble of the sluiceway waters informed her that she was near the camp of the enemy she went more cautiously, and when she heard the voices of men she called, announcing that she desired to speak with Director Craig.

Somebody replied, after a pause which indicated that considerable amazement had been roused by a woman's voice.

"Come along, whoever you are! Mr. Craig is on the dam."

A man who kept jerking his head around to stare frankly at her led her along the string piece of the great structure.

Their meeting--she and the Comas director--was like a rencontre in the void of s.p.a.ce; on the water side of the dam the mists matched the hue of the gla.s.sy surface and the blending masked the water; on the other side, the fog filled the deep gorge where the torrent of the sluiceway thundered.

She was obliged to go close to him in order to emerge from the vapor into his range of vision and to make her voice heard above the roar of the water. His one visible eye surveyed her with blank astonishment; near as she was to him, he did not recognize her at first in her rough garb of the woods.

"Mr. Craig, I _was_"--she stressed the verb significantly--"an employee in the Vose-Mern agency in New York. I met you in their office."

He clasped his hands behind him as if he feared to have them free in front of him; her proximity seemed to invite those hands, but his countenance revealed that he was not in a mood then to give caresses.

"Was, eh? May I ask what you are right now?"

"I'm doing my best to help in getting the Flagg drive down the river--without trouble!"

"Trouble!" He was echoing her again; it was as if, in his waxing ire, he did not dare to launch into a topic of his own. "What do you call it, what has been happening upriver?"

"I presume you mean that dams have been blown to get water for our logs."

"Our dams!" he shouted.

"I'm a stranger up here. I don't know whose dams they were. I have heard all kinds of stories about the rights in the dams, sir."

"I can't say to you what I think--and what I want to say! You're a girl, confound it! I'll only make a fool of myself, talking to you about our rights and our property. But I can say to you, about your own work, that you have been paid by our money to do a certain thing."

She opened her eyes on him in offended inquiry.

"I take it that you're the same one who called herself Miss Patsy Jones when you operated at Adonia."

"I did use that name--for personal reasons."

He did not moderate his wrath. "Here I find that Patsy Jones is Miss Kennard of the Vose-Mern agency. We have paid good money to the agency.

When I settled for the last job I added two hundred dollars as a present to you."

"I have not received the gift, sir. It does not belong to me. I'm here on my own account. I came north at my own expense without notifying Chief Mern that I was done with the agency; and strictly personal reasons, also, influenced me on that point." She was trying hard to keep her poise, not loosing her emotions, preserving her dignity with a man of affairs and phrasing her replies with rather stilted diction. "I have my good reasons for doing all I can in my poor power to help the Flagg drive go through."

The fact that her name was Kennard meant nothing to Rufus Craig, a New Yorker who had never bothered himself with the ancient tales of the Noda country. He did not understand what interest she could have in opposing the Comas company; he could see only the ordinary and sordid side of the affair. He looked her up and down and curled his lip.

"You have been a traitor!"

"Not to the right, sir, when I found out what the right was."

"I think you'll have a chance to say something about that in court, in your defense! You have put the devil into those men and I'm giving you warning."

"I shall tell the truth in court, Mr. Craig. You may or you may not find that promise a warning of my own to you and your corporation methods."

He blinked and looked away from her. "I'm busy! What are you doing here on this dam? What do you want of me? Is it more detective work?" he sneered. "Are you getting ready to double-cross the new gang you're hitched up with. For what reason you went over to 'em G.o.d only knows!"

"He does know!" she returned, earnestly. She stepped closer to him. "I came down here to plead that you'll let the Flagg logs go through this dam."

"I will not." His anger had driven him to the extreme of obstinacy.

"Mr. Craig, that stand means a wicked fight between men who are not paid to fight."

"You've had a lot of influence in making men blow our dams. Use that influence in keeping 'em away from this one, and there'll be no fight."

He turned away, but she hastened forward and put herself in front of him.

"I cannot do it, sir! That will be asking our men to give up all they have been struggling for. I don't know what the law is--or what the law will say. Please listen to me! Keep the men from fighting--this season!

Then allow the law to put matters right up here. The Flagg logs have gone down the river every year before this one. The good Lord has furnished the water for all. Mr. Craig, out of the depths of my heart I entreat you." She had tried hard to keep womanly weakness away. She wanted to conduct the affair on the plane of business good sense; but anxiety was overwhelming her; she broke down and sobbed frankly.