Part 62

The Rough Red jerked him to his feet, delivered a bear hug that nearly crushed his ribs, and pounded him mightily on the back.

“You ould snoozer!” he bellowed. “Where the blankety blank in blank did you come from? Byes,” he shouted to the men, “it's me ould boss on th' Au Sable six year back--that time, ye mind, whin we had th' ice jam! Glory be! but I'm glad to see ye!”

Orde was still laughing.

“I didn't know you'd turned into the Rough Red, Jimmy,” said he. “I don't believe we were either of us old enough for whiskers then, were we?”

The Rough Red grinned.

“Thrue for ye!” said he. “And what have ye been doing all these years?”

“That's just it, Jimmy,” said Orde, drawing the giant one side, out of ear-shot. “All my eggs are in one basket, and it's a mean trick of you to hire out for filthy lucre to kick that basket.”

“What do ye mane?” asked the Rough Red, fixing his twinkling little eyes on Orde.

“You don't mean to tell me,” countered Orde, glancing down at the other's rubber-shod feet, “that this crew has been sent up here just to break out those measly little rollways?”

“Thim?” said the Rough Red. “Thim? Hell, NO! Thim's my bodyguard. They can lick their weight in wild cats, and I'd loike well to see the gang of highbankers that infists this river thry to pry thim out. We weren't sint here to wurrk; we were sint here to foight.”

“Fight? Why?” asked Orde.

“Oh, I dunno,” replied the Rough Red easily. “Me boss and the blank of a blank blanked blank that's attimptin' to droive this river has some sort of a row.”

“Jimmy,” said Orde, “didn't you know that I am the gentleman last mentioned?”

“What!”

“I'm driving this river, and that's my dam-keeper you've got hid away somewhere here, and that's my water you're planning to waste!”

“What?” repeated the Rough Red, but in a different tone of voice.

“That's right,” said Orde.

In a tone of vast astonishment, the Rough Red mentioned his probable deserts in the future life.

“Luk here, Jack,” said he after a moment, “here's a crew of white-water birlers that ye can't beat nowheres. What do you want us to do? We're now gettin' four dollars a day AN' board from that murderin' ould villain, Heinzman, SO WE CAN AFFORD TO WURRK FOR YOU CHEAP.”

Orde hesitated.

“Oh, please do now, darlint!” wheedled the Rough Red, his little eyes agleam with mischief. “Sind us some oakum and pitch and we'll caulk yure wanigan for ye. Or maybe some more peavies, and we'll hilp ye on yure rollways. And till us, afore ye go, how ye want this dam, and that's the way she'll be. Come, now, dear! and ain't ye short-handed now?”

Orde slapped his knee and laughed.

“This is sure one hell of a joke!” he cried.

“And ain't it now?” said the Rough Red, smiling with as much ingratiation as he was able.

“I'll take you boys on,” said Orde at last, “at the usual wages--dollar and a half for the jam, three for the rear. I doubt if you'll see much of Heinzman's money when this leaks out.”

XXIV

Thus Orde, by the sheer good luck that sometimes favours men engaged in large enterprises, not only frustrated a plan likely to bring failure to his interests, but filled up his crews. It may be remarked here, as well as later, that the “terrors of the Saginaw” stayed with the drive to its finish, and proved reliable and tractable in every particular. Orde scattered them judiciously, so there was no friction with the local men. The Rough Red he retained on the rear.

Here the breaking of the rollways had reached a stage more exciting both to onlooker and participant than the mere opening of the river channel. Huge stacks of logs piled sidewise to the bank lined the stream for miles. When the lowermost log on the river side was teased and pried out, the upper tiers were apt to cascade down with a roar, a crash, and a splash. The man who had done the prying had to be very quick-eyed, very cool, and very agile to avoid being buried under the tons of timber that rushed down on him. Only the most reliable men were permitted at this initial breaking down. Afterwards the crew rolled in what logs remained.