The Rainy Day Railroad War Part 21

"I expect," said Parker, as the little steamer puffed across sunlit Spinnaker toward Poquette, "that the men have arranged a rather rugged celebration for to-day; but I know them well, gentlemen, and I want to a.s.sure you that all they do is meant in the best spirit."

As the steamer approached the wharf, tooting its whistle, there was an explosion ash.o.r.e that made the little craft appear to hop out of the water. All the anvils of the construction crew had been stuffed with powder, and all were fired simultaneously with a battery current!

With a yell the sh.o.r.e crowd rushed to the side of the steamer. Dan was leading, his broad face glowing with good humor. Groups of cheering men clutched the squirming, protesting railroad owners and their friends, and bore them on st.u.r.dy shoulders to the waiting train. The band from its station on a platform car boomed "Hail to the Chief," the engine whistle screaming an obligato.

Then the men swarmed upon the cars, crowding every corner, occupying every foothold--but with the thoughtful deference of the woods not venturing to encroach upon the privacy of the coach after they had deposited their guests there.

On the "half-way horseback," so-called, Parker ordered the train halted, for he wished to show Mr. Jerrard an experiment in culvert construction, in which he took an originator's pride. The band kept on playing and the men roared choruses.

After the young engineer had bellowed his explanation in Jerrard's ear, and Jerrard had howled back some warm compliments, striving to make himself heard above the uproar, the two climbed the embankment and approached the coach. The band was quiet now.

"Speech!" cried some one, as Jerrard mounted the steps. He smiled and shook his head.

"Speech! Speech!" The manager turned to enter his car, still smiling, tolerant but disregarding. At a sudden command from Connick, men reached out on both sides of the train and clutched the branches of st.u.r.dy undergrowth that the haste of the construction work had not permitted the crews to clear entirely away.

"Hang on, my hearties!" shouted Dan.

Parker, when he mounted the steps, had given the signal to start, but when the engineer opened his throttle, the wheels of the little engine whirled in a vain attempt at progress. With a grade, a heavy load, and the determined grip of all these brawny hands to contend against, the panting Stump Dodger was beaten. Sparks streamed and the smokestack quivered, but the train did not start.

"Speech! Speech!" the men howled. "We won't let go till we hear a speech."

Entreaties had no effect. First Jerrard, then Whittaker, then Parker, and after them all the guests were compelled to come out on the car platform and satisfy the truly American pa.s.sion for a speech. And not until the last man had responded did the woodsmen release their hold on the trees.

"Who ever heard of a railroad being formally opened and dedicated without speeches?" cried Connick, as he gave the word to let go. "We know the style, an' we want everything."

The guides served a lunch at the West Branch end of the line that afternoon, and while the railroad party was lounging in happy restfulness awaiting the repast, a big bateau came sweeping down the river, driven by a half dozen oarsmen. Several pa.s.sengers disembarked at the end of the carry road, and were received respectfully yet uproariously by the woodsmen who had just arrived in a fresh train-load from the Spinnaker end.

Connick came elbowing through the press that surrounded them.

"Mr. Shayne," he cried, "she's come, after all, hasn't she? Are you and your friends goin' to ride back on her across the carry? I tell you she beats a buckboard!"

The man whom he addressed smiled with some constraint, and exchanged glances with his companions.

"I guess we'll stick to our own tote-team as usual, Connick," said another in the party, jerking his thumb at the muddy buckboard that was waiting.

"Oh say, now, ye've got to meet these here railroad fellers. They're your style--all business!" bawled Connick. "We ain't fit to entertain 'em up here, but you rich fellers are. Just come along. They'll be glad to see you. Bring 'em along, boys."

The crowd obediently hustled the new arrivals toward Whittaker and his friends, disregarding the surly protests.

"Here's some of the kings of the spruce country, gentlemen!" big Dan cried, by way of introduction. "Here's Mr. Shayne, the great timber operator on the Seboois waters. Here's Mr. Barber of the Upper Chamberlain, an'--"

Several of the new arrivals began to deprecate this unceremonious manner of introduction, but the railroad men, recognizing their peers in the business world in these st.u.r.dy land barons, came forward with a hearty welcome.

Ten minutes later the timber kings were eating lunch, although with some embarra.s.sment. Occasionally they eyed the railroad men, wondering if the memory of the stubborn legislative battle still lingered. But the railroad men constantly grew more affable.

"Gentlemen," said Whittaker, at last, "we are not affected in this case by any interstate commerce regulations. Therefore, on behalf of myself and my a.s.sociates, I should like to tender you annual pa.s.ses over our new road. Of course the courtesy is a trifling one, but it will indicate that we shall appreciate your cooperation in turning your freight business our way. We'll save you at least two-thirds of the expense on the haul across Poquette."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN--THE PACT THAT OPENED RODNEY PARKER'S PROFESSIONAL FUTURE

When one understood all that had gone before, the moment was an electric one for the future of the Poquette region.

In this apparently trivial offer the railroad king had formally offered the olive branch. He gazed at the lumber barons eagerly yet shrewdly.

It was evident that they had silently fixed on Shayne to reply.

After a moment Shayne began his answer, and as he had glanced from one to another of his companions, he evidently understood from their eyes that he had permission to speak for all. "Mr. Whittaker," he said, with hearty frankness, "on behalf of myself and my a.s.sociates I am going to make an earnest apology to you for the obstacles we threw in your way at the outset of this enterprise. But you must take into account the isolation of our lumbering interests and the jealousy we felt at the intrusion of outside men and capital. We feared what it might lead to. We have been doing business as our fathers did it, and we probably needed this awakening that the new railroad has given us. For now that it is built, we, as business men, see that the advantages it will afford us are desirable in every way. I speak for my friends here when I say that we are heartily glad you have beaten us."

His tone was jocose yet sincere.

The men of business--railroad officials and lumber kings--broke out into a hearty laugh, the laugh of amity and comradeship. Shayne went on, more at his ease after that:

"Now we are going to afford you a proof that we mean what we say.

We--this party right here--control fifty miles or more of timber country, reaching from here up to the West Branch on both sides, and extending as far inland. The river is broken by rapids and falls along this stretch. Our drives from up-country are sometimes held up a whole season when a bad jam forms in dry times. Every year in dynamiting these jams thousands of feet of logs are shattered. More are split on the ledges. We have agreed that we need a railroad. Considering our losses, we can afford to pay well for having our logs hauled to the smooth water. If you and your friends will finance and build such a road, we'll give you free right of way, turn over to you annually twenty million feet of timber for your log trains, and give you the haul of all our crews and camp supplies. Further than that, with spur tracks to lots now inaccessible by water, you can quadruple the value of our holdings and your own business at the same time. And this will be only the first link of a railroad system that we need all through the region. The thing has come to us in its right light at last, and we're ready to meet you half-way in everything." He smiled. "We want the right sort of men behind the scheme, and you have plainly showed us that you _are_ the right sort of men."

President Whittaker thought a little.

"Gentlemen," he said, at last, "I cannot give you a conclusive answer to-day, of course, but I can guarantee that no such offer as that is going to be refused by my a.s.sociates and myself. Bring forward your proposition in writing. We'll come half-way, too, and be glad of the chance. If men and money can accomplish it, a standard gage road will be ready for your season's haul next year."

He turned and touched Parker's shoulder.

"This young man," he said, "will be our representative, with full powers to treat with you. Parker, are you ready for two years more in the wilderness? It's a big project, and your financial encouragement will be correspondingly big. I haven't said yet how thoroughly I appreciate your energy and loyalty and self-reliance in the matter of this little plaything of the past winter. I do not need to say anything, do I, except to urge you to take this new responsibility, and to add that your acceptance will encourage me to go ahead at once?"

Parker reached out his brown hand to meet the one extended to him.

"We also want to say to Mr. Parker," went on Shayne, "that on our part we'll do more to a.s.sist him than we'd do for any other man you could place here. We have a little explanation to make to him and--"

"No explanations for me--if it's along the lines I apprehend, Mr.

Shayne!" cried the young man, jokingly yet meaningly. He bent a significant look on the lumber king as he went forward to take his hand.

"Hush!" he murmured. "I keep my own counsels in business matters when I can do so without betraying the interests of my employers, and when they don't want to be bothered by my personal affairs."

Shayne gave the engineer a long stare of honest admiration.

"Parker," he gasped, "you never said a word? You're a---- Here, give me you hand again!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: Parker give me your hand again 254-286]

A half hour later the lumbermen went across the Poquette Carry in a train made up of the engine and the coach--"the first real special train over the road," Parker said.

Before the young engineer left for his summer vacation, he made a long canoe journey up into the Moxie section, ostensibly on a fishing expedition. He was gone ten days, a longer period than he had predicted to his a.s.sistant manager.

When he came down the West Branch one afternoon he helped Joshua Ward to lift a crippled man out of their canoe, and he carefully directed the helpers who carried the unfortunate person to the coach.

"I'm afraid the trip across the carry in a buckboard after the old manner would have been too rough for you, Colonel Ward," remarked Parker, as the train clanked along under the big trees. "I think I was never more glad to offer modern conveniences to any traveller across this carry. You understand how deep my sincerity is in this, I am positive."