THE NEW BOSS
The twilight of late autumn darkened the landscape as Bill Carmody
found himself once again at the edge of the tiny clearing surrounding
the cabin of Daddy Dunnigan.
Through the window, in the yellow lamplight of the interior, he could
see the form of the old man as he hobbled back and forth between the
stove and the table.
Remembering Creed, Bill feared the effect upon the old man should he
present himself suddenly at the door. Advancing into the clearing, he
whistled. Daddy Dunnigan paused, frying-pan in hand, and peered
futilely out of the window. Again Bill whistled and watched as the
other returned the pan to the stove and opened the door.
"Come on in out av that, ye shpalpeen!" called Dunnigan. "Ut's toime ye
be comin' back to let th' owld man know how ye're farin'!"
Bill grasped the extended hand and peered into the twinkling eyes of
the old Irishman.
"Well, Daddy, you don't seem much surprised."
"Oi know'd ye'd be along wan av these days, but ye tuk yer own toime
about ut."
"How did you know I wasn't drowned in the river?"
"Sur-re, Oi know'd ye _wuz_--didn't Oi see ye go undher th' logs wid me
own eyes? An' didn't th' jam go rippin' an' tearin' into th' rapids?
An' c'd on-ny man live t'rough th' loike av that? Oi _know'd_ ye wuz
dead--till Oi seed Creed. Thin Oi know'd ye wuzn't. But Moncrossen
don't know ut--nor on-ny wan ilse, ondly me. Oi'd 'a' gone to hunt ye,
ondly Oi know'd phwin th' toime suited ye ye'd come here; so Oi waited.
"Set by now er th' grub'll be cowld. They'll be toime fer palaverin'
afther."
When the dishes had been washed and returned to their shelves the two
seated themselves and lighted their pipes.
"You say Creed returned to Hilarity and told of having seen me?" asked
Bill.
"Well, he did--an' he didn't," replied the old man slowly. "Ut's loike
this: Along in July, ut wuz, Moncrossen an' his gang av bur-rd's-eye
pirates come roarin' out av th' woods huntin' fer Creed. They'd wint in
be th' river, but come out be th' tote-road, an' mad clean t'rough to
th' gizzard. No wan hadn't seed um, an' they clum aboord th' thrain,
cursin' an' swearin' vingince on Creed phwin they caught um.
"Thin, maybe it's two wakes afther, we wuz settin' in Burrage's phwin
th' dure bust open, an' in come Rad Cranston loike th' divil wuz afther
um.
"'They's a woild man,' he yells, 'come out av th' woods, an' he's
tearin' things up in Creed's cabin!'
"Hod picks up a cleaver an' makes fer th' dure, wid us follyin' um,
afther providin' oursilves wid what utinsils wuz layin' handy--a scythe
here an' an axe there, an' some wan ilse wid a pitchfork. Rad brung up
lasht wid a sixteen-pound posht-maul, bein' in no hurry at all fer
another luk.
"Trut' is, none av us wuz in no great hurry--Creed's woman havin'
cashed his pay-check an' skipped out--but at lasht we come to phwere we
c'd see th' place, an' sure enough th' dure shtood open an' insoide
come a racket av shmashin' furniture an' yellin' 'tw'd done proud to
camp-meetin' salvation.
"Thin come a foine loud rattle av glass, an' out t'rough a windie come
th' half av a chair, follyed be a len'th av shtovepoipe an' a grane
glass wather-pitcher.
"Fer me own part, Oi'd seed such loike brick-a-brack befoor, an'
besides Oi remimbered a dhrink Oi hadn't tuk earlier in th' evenin', so
Oi shtarted workin' me way to th' back av th' crowd, th' bether some
wan ilse c'd see.
"Oi'd no more thin tur-rned around phwin wid a whoop, 'tw'd wake th'
dead, out t'rough th' windie come th' domnedest-lukin' cryther this
side av Borneo, a wavin' over his head wan av th' owld lady Creed's rid
cotton table-cloths--an' niver another stitch to his name but a leather
belt wid about six inches av pants a hangin' onto ut, an' a pair av
corked boots.
"Phwin Oi shtar-rted from Burrage's Oi laid holt av a man's-size
crowbar, but at that minit th' thing Oi helt in me hand luked about th'
heft av a tinpinny nail. Be that toime all th' others wuz av loike
moind to me. They wuz considerable crowdin', an', bein' crippled, Oi
dhropped me crowbar an' laid a good holt on th' tail av Hod's coat.
"Th' shtore wuz clost by, an' we had a good shtart; but th' thing that
wuz afther us wuz thravelin' loight an' in foorty-fut leps.
"'Twuz a good race, an' wan Oi wanted to win; but, owin' to th'
unyversal willin'ness av th' crowd to get into th' shtore, we plugged
up th' dureway, an' befoor we c'd get unstuck th' thing wuz onto us,
gibberin' an' jabberin' an' screamin' an' laughin' all to wunst.
"Ut tuk eight av us to howld um whilst Burrage toied um hand an' fut,
an' phwin we'd dhrug um into th' shtore we seed 'twuz Creed hissilf.
Twuz two days befoor th' sheriff come fer um, an' in th' mane toime
he'd gabble an' yell about th' greener comin' afther um, an' how he
come out av th' wather, an' so on.
"Th' rist think ut's th' shtayin' alone made um loony, but Oi put two
an' two togither--here's Moncrossen losht his bur-rd's-eye an' Creed
scairt witless be th' soight av th' greener--phwat's th' answer?
"Phy, th' b'y ain't dead at all. Some ways he got out av th' river,
scairt th' dayloights out av Creed, an' made off wid th' bur-rd's-eye.
Am Oi roight?"
"Exactly!" exclaimed Bill.
"Oi know'd ut! Ye've th' luck av Captain Fronte's own silf! That come
out av ivery shcrape wid his loife, save th' lasht wan, an' he w'd thin
av a domned nayger shell hadn't bust ag'in' his ribs--but that's toimes
gone."
"I wonder where Moncrossen is now?"
"Right here in Hilarity; him an' his crew unloaded yisterday fer to
shtar-rt fer th' camp in th' marnin'."
"I think I'll just let the boss believe I'm still in the river until
after I have had a talk with Appleton. By the way, Daddy, how are you
fixed for money?"
"Sure, Oi got more money thin a man ought to have--money in th' bank
an' money in me pocket--take ut an' welcome"--he tossed a thick wallet
onto the table--"ondly ye won't have to go to Minneapolis.
"Owld man Appleton's over to Creighton, eighty moiles wesht av here,
sooperintindin' a new camp on Blood River, wan hundred an' tin moiles
above Moncrossen's. Fallon's wid um, an' Shtromberg, an' a lot more av
th' good min that's toired av worrkin' undher Moncrossen."
"He is not bossing the camp himself!" exclaimed Bill.
"No, but he's got to kape an eye on't. Fallon'll be a kind av shtraw
boss an' luk afther th' wor-rk, but th' owld man'll have to figger th'
toime an' th' scale--Fallon ain't got no aggicatin'.
"'Tis roight glad Oi'm thinkin' th' owld man'll be to lay eyes on ye.
They say he wuz all bruk up phwin he heerd ye wuz dhr-rounded."
Bill's visit to Hilarity was known to no one except Daddy Dunnigan, and
the following evening after Moncrossen's departure for the woods, the
two proceeded to the railway by a circuitous route.
Unobserved, he swung aboard the caboose of the local freight-train
which stood at the tiny platform, discharging goods.
"He'll be afther makin' ye boss av th' new camp," opined the old man
from his position beside a pile of ties. "An' av ye nade a cook just
dhrop me a loine an' Oi'll come."
"I haven't got the job yet," laughed Bill.
"But ye will. Owld Appleton'll be glad enough not havin' to come
thrapsin' into th' woods ivery month or so durin' th' winther." The old
man leaned forward upon his crutch, and with pathetic eagerness scanned
the face of the younger man.
"Me b'y," he said, "av yer plans is changed--wor-rd from th' gir-rl, or
what not, that'll be takin' ye back to Noo Yor-rk--ye'll take me wid
ye?
"Oi may be a bit owld, but Oi'm as good as iver Oi wuz. Oi c'd lear-rn
to run yer otymobile er take care av th' harses, er moind th' babies,
ut makes no difference; for whilst a McKim lives owld Dunnigan belongs
to luk afther um."
"Never fear, Daddy!" cried Bill, as the train jerked into motion. "Now
that we've found each other, we'll stick together until the end." And
he stood silent upon the steps of the caboose until the figure of the
old Irishman blended into the background.
In the front room of the one-story building with its undeceptive
two-story front, where Appleton had established his headquarters in the
little town of Creighton, the lumber magnate sat talking with Irish
Fallon.
The tote-road leading to the new camp had been pushed to completion,
and Appleton was giving Fallon some final instructions.
"I must leave for Minneapolis in the morning," he said. "Do the best
you can, and I will run up as often as possible."
"Oi'll do ut, sorr," replied Irish. "Oi c'n lay down th' logs all
roight; th' throuble'll be wid th' figgers. If ondly me frind, Bill,
wuz here--sure, there wuz th' foine lad!"
Appleton pulled at his gray mustache and regarded the other
thoughtfully.
"You knew him well--this Bill?" he asked.
"Oi wuz th' fur-rst whoite man he seen in th' woods th' day he stud
knee-dape in th' shnow av th' tote-road, lukin' down at th' carcass av
D'ablish. An' from that toime on till he wint down undher th' logs we
wuz loike two brothers--ondly more so."
"Pretty good man, was he?"
"A-a-h, there wuz a man!" Fallon's big fist banged noisily upon the
table, and his blue eyes lighted as he faced his employer. "Misther
Appleton, ye losht a _man_ phwin th' greener wint undher. Fearin'
nayther God, man, nor th' divil, he come into th' woods, an' in wan
sayson lear-rnt more about logs thin th' most av us'll iver know."
"Moncrossen liked him--spoke very highly of him, and that is unusual
with Moncrossen." Fallon's breath whistled through his teeth at the
words.
"Loiked um, did he? Sure he loiked um--loike a rabbit loikes a wolf!"
He leaned forward in his chair, punctuating his remarks with stabs of a
huge forefinger upon the other's knee.
"Misther Appleton, Moncrossen _hated um_! An' ivery man along th' river
that day knows that av ut wuzn't fer Moncrossen, th' greener'd be
livin' this minit--ondly we can't pr-roove ut. Th' boss hated um
because he wuz a bether man--because he know'd he wuz a clane man, wid
a foightin' hear-rt an' two fists an' th' guts to carry um t'rough. He
chilled th' har-rt av th' boss th' fur-rst noight he seen um, an' from
thin on th' fear wuz upon um fer th' bird's-eye."
"The bird's-eye?" inquired Appleton. "What do you mean?"
Fallon hesitated; his enthusiasm had carried him further than he had
intended. He gazed out of the window, wondering how to proceed, when
his eyes fastened upon a large, heavily bearded man who approached
rapidly down the wooden sidewalk, a folded mackinaw swung carelessly
across the fringed arm of his buckskin shirt.
The iron latch rattled; the man entered, closed the door behind him,
and, turning, faced the two with a smile. For a long moment the men
gazed at the newcomer in silence; then Fallon's chair crashed backward
upon the floor as the Irishman leaped to his feet.
"Thim _eyes_!" he cried, throwing a huge arm across the man's shoulders
and shaking him violently in his excitement. "Bill! Bill! Fer th' love
av God, tell me 'tis yersilf! Ye damn' shcoundril, ain't ye dhrounded
at all, at all? An' phwere ye ben kapin' yersilf?"
Bill laughed aloud and wrung Appleton's hand.
The lumberman had risen to his feet, staring incredulously into the
other's face while he repeated over and over again: "My boy! My boy!"
Fallon danced about, waving his arms and shouting: "Th' new camp'll go
t'rough hell a whoopin'! Bill'll be boss, an' th' min'll tear out th'
bone to bate Moncrossen!"
Order was finally restored, and the three seated themselves while Bill
recounted his adventures. Appleton's brow clouded as he learned the
details of the bird's-eye plot.
"So that's the way he worked it?" he exclaimed. "I knew that there was
some bird's-eye in the timber, and that I was not getting it. But I
laid it to outside thieves--never supposed one of my own foremen was
double-crossing me.
"That is Moncrossen's finish!" he added grimly. "I need him this
winter. Too many contracts to afford to do without him. In the spring,
though, there will be an accounting; and mark my words, he will get
what is coming to him!"
"What next--for me?" asked Bill.
Appleton smiled.
"I think Fallon has disposed of your case," he replied. "My boy, I want
you to take this new camp and _get out logs_. I won't set any specific
amount, I will tell you this: I _must_ have twenty-five million feet
out of the Blood River country this winter. You are the first
inexperienced man I have ever placed in charge of a camp. I don't know
what you can do. I'll take the chance. It's up to you.
"My camps are run without interference from the office. Results count
with me--not methods. Feed your crew all they can eat--of the best you
can get. Knock a man down first and argue with him afterward. Let them
know who is boss, and you will have no trouble. Don't be afraid to
spend money, but _get out the logs_!"
The following morning the new foreman stood upon the platform of the
station as the heavy, vestibuled Imperial Limited ground to a stop,
under special orders to take on the great lumberman.
"So-long, Bill!" Appleton called. "See you next month. Bringing a party
into the woods for a deer-hunt. May put up at your camp for a couple of
weeks."
The train pulled out for the East, leaving Bill Carmody gazing, just a
shade wistfully, perhaps, at the contented-looking men and women who
flashed past upon the rich plush cushions.
But as the last coach passed he squared his shoulders with a jerk and
turned quickly away.