THE THREAT OF PEG TATEM
The shadows were heavy in the Big Woods when the two men awakened from
their afternoon's sleep, into which they had sunk while discussing their
discovery. Joe Shafto was getting supper, and it was the odor of her
cooking that aroused Lieutenant Wingate to full wakefulness. Hippy
routed out the rest of the camp without delay.
They discovered Henry asleep high up in one of the virgin pines,
Hindenburg having found warmth and a less perilous position on the
blankets of the Overland girls.
"I seen ye folks over by the hole in the ground yonder," the forest
woman confided to Tom as he greeted her and asked how she felt. "I took
a look for myself this evenin'. Fine kettle of stew, hey?"
"Meaning what?" questioned Tom smilingly.
"I reckon some varmint give that air tree a kick over, eh? Who do ye
reckon the varmint was who did that, Cap'n Gray?" demanded Joe, glaring
at him through her spectacles.
Tom shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't know, Joe. I wish I did," he replied. "Please say nothing about
it to the girls. I shall tell Mrs. Gray, of course. Being in charge of
the party she should be told of our suspicions."
"Sure. What do ye reckon on doin' to-night?"
"Make a new camp and watch it. Where was that bear of yours while all
that uproar was in progress?" demanded Tom.
"Same place the Lieutenant's pup was at--sleepin'!" returned Joe dryly.
Tom turned away laughing. He and Hippy rustled boughs for new lean-tos,
chopped wood for the night campfire, and began making a new camp a few
rods from the one that had been destroyed by the falling tree and the
forest fire. The girls volunteered to assist in the work, but Hippy
declared that they looked as if they needed sleep more than work.
The work on the lean-tos had not been finished when the Overlanders were
summoned to supper. There was little conversation until they had dulled
the sharp edges of their appetites; then their drooping spirits revived
and they began bantering each other.
Henry had come down to be on hand when the food was distributed and got
many morsels during the meal.
The bear suddenly bristled, swayed his head from side to side, and
began to growl. At almost the same instant Hippy Wingate's bull pup was
galvanized into life. He began to utter deep growls and resentful
coughs.
"Some varmint hangin' around, I reckon," nodded the forest woman in
answer to a look of inquiry from Grace. "Be still, Henerey!"
"I hear something coming," declared Tom.
Hippy fastened a hand on Hindenburg's collar, and Joe threatened the
bear with a club until he slunk away and disappeared, then, to their
amazement, Peg Tatem stamped into camp, followed by a group of
lumberjacks.
The Overland Riders gazed questioningly at his scowling face. Tom Gray
was the only member of the outfit who knew him, but they instantly
recognized the foreman of Section Forty-three, from the descriptions of
him given by Tom and Joe Shafto, who now stood glaring angrily at him
through her big horn glasses.
Tom greeted the newcomer cordially.
"Won't you sit down and have a snack with us?" he asked.
"Don't want nothin' t' eat with the likes of ye, thankee," growled Peg.
"Oh, that's all right, old top," observed Hippy cheerfully. "We aren't
particularly eager to have a rough-neck sit down to mess with us."
"Hold yer tongue, ye cheap dude!" snarled Peg, shaking the heavy stick,
that he carried as a cane, at Lieutenant Wingate.
"Don't get rough," grinned Hippy. "What do you want here anyway?"
The lumberjacks, who had accompanied the foreman, halted a few paces to
the rear of their superior, and neither their appearance nor their
expressions were reassuring.
"What is it you wish?" demanded Tom.
"What ye got to say about this?" snorted Peg, taking in the burned area
with a sweep of his stick.
"As a forester, I am very sorry that this has happened, though it was
through no fault of ours," answered Tom.
"Ye lie!" exploded the foreman.
"Tatem, you will please drop that sort of talk here. Remember there are
ladies present. Besides, I don't take that word from anyone. I said, the
fire occurred through no fault of ours. A tree fell on our campfire and
scattered the embers, and, before we realized it, the forest was on
fire. We worked all night and all the forenoon trying to head the fire
off, which we finally succeeded in doing. Had we not done our part, this
whole section would long since have been entirely burned off. Why are
you taking it upon yourself to come here and interfere with us?"
"Why? Ye bloomin' idiot! I'm talkin' because ye've burned off a few
hundred thousand feet of timber from our section. That's why, and yer
goin' to pay for every stick of it. Do ye git me?"
"Oh, perfectly, perfectly," interjected Hippy.
"Your section, did you say?" demanded Tom.
"That's what I said," leered Peg.
"You are mistaken. This is not your section. It is possible that you may
have intended to crowd your boundaries and steal a few thousand feet of
state timber, but so far as its belonging to you or to the people you
represent, I know better."
"Ye--ye say I'm a thief?" demanded Peg, the words seeming to stick in
his throat.
"No. You may intend to be one, but I have not said that you are. You may
be for all that I know. If you have nothing more sensible to say than to
accuse us of burning your property, move on! Before you go, however, I
wish to say that I believe that, if the truth were to come out, you know
more about what caused that fire, and how it was caused, than anyone
else. You know what I mean, Peg Tatem."
Only Hippy understood to what Tom Gray referred. That Peg Tatem did,
Lieutenant Wingate had not the least doubt, for the foreman's face
flushed a violent red under his tan, and his eyes narrowed, as he
gripped his club-like cane.
"Get out of here, you and your jacks!" commanded Tom savagely.
"Yes, skip, vamoose, articulate your joints. In other words, shoo!"
jeered Hippy. "If I ever see you around our camp again I'll slap your
wrist. What!"
Peg Tatem, throwing his weight on the clumsy piece of wood that did duty
as a leg, made an almost unbelievable leap towards Tom Gray and brought
his club-cane down with all the powerful strength that the man
possessed.
"I'll kill ye fer that!" raged the foreman of Forty-three as his club
descended.