"Aw, I can handle a peavey."
"Nope. If one of those logs rolled on you, there wouldn't be enough left
to scrape up."
"Let me help!"
Joe said patiently, "You watch and see how it's done. Maybe the next
time you can help."
Tad squatted on his heels and watched, sulking. Joe loaded the wagon,
chained the load, and climbed on top of it to drive through Tenney's
Crossing to John Geragty's saw mill. There was plenty of timber to be
had for the taking, but never a surplus of seasoned oak and hickory.
John would have no trouble selling it for a good price, and therefore he
would take his pay for sawing in lumber instead of money. Joe drove up
to the saw mill, and John Geragty came to meet him.
"Hear you're goin' to Oregon," he greeted.
"You hear right, John. Who told you?"
"Everybody knows it by this time. The Crossin' hasn't had this kind of
news to chew on since Casey McManus was lynched."
"Hope the chewing's good," Joe grinned. "Got some seasoned oak and
hickory. Want to work it up for me?"
"What do you need?"
"Boards for a wagon box and a new reach and axles. Wouldn't do any harm
to have an extra tongue, too."
"Cash deal?"
"Share."
"I don't know," the other said doubtfully. "You want to buy the metal
for your axles?"
"Sure."
"Then it's a deal. We'll split the timber half and half. If you don't
need all yours, I'll sell it for you. Bill Logan's buildin' a new barn
and he wants good lumber."
"Good enough."
Joe drove home with his empty wagon, and the mules pricked their long
ears forward when they came in sight of the pasture. Two saddle horses
were tied to the fence, and Joe recognized one of them as Percy Pearl's
fine thoroughbred. The other was a blocky paint owned by Watson
Charters, a quarrelsome man who was greatly impressed with his own
importance. Largely because nobody else would take the job, which meant
that they might have to embarrass their neighbors, Watson Charters was
the local constable and he did a great deal of work for Elias Dorrance.
Charters came forward to meet Joe, closely followed by Percy Pearl. Joe
jumped down from the wagon.
Charters produced a penciled document, obviously one he had written
himself, from his pocket and began to read it:
"I hereby restrict and enjoin you, under clause A, article 13, of the
laws of the State of Missouri, from removing from this property, or
causing anyone else to remove from this property, any grasses, crops, or
other article that takes root from the ground. I--"
"Wait a minute," Percy Pearl interrupted blandly. "I didn't understand.
Read it again, Watson."
The constable looked annoyed, but started reading, "I hereby restrict
and enjoin you, under clause A--"
"Now isn't that something?" Percy said admiringly. "He wrote it all by
himself, too. Reminds me of some of the literary masterpieces I myself
created when I was a student in the sixth form at Carrodale. Only
Watson's is sheer genius. 'Grasses, crops, or other article that takes
root from the ground.' Banishes immediately any lingering doubts one
might have that they're rooted in the air. Who besides Watson would have
thought of such a thing?"