Jasper County Democrat, Volume 6, Number 51, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 March 1904 — The Blazed Trail [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Blazed Trail

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. Chapter I—Morrison A Daly, lumbermen on the Saganaw water, of Miohigan, drive a hard bargain with Radway, a contractor. II and lll—Harry Thorpe, having left his dependent sister Helen, at service, tries for work at Morrlaon A Daly’s, fails and takes a job at chorinsr until he can go to Radway's camp. IV—Thorpe at Radway’s making lumber road. The men attempt baaing. Thorpe puts on the gloves and knocks out the champion. V and Vl—Radway running behind owing to slack management. Thorpe a “swamper.’ Death of his chum, Paul. The men “chip in for the widow.” Radway goes home for Christmas, leaving Dyer, the scaler, in charge, VII and Vlll—Long delay waiting for roads to freeze. Thorpe hurt and sent to Sisters’ hospital. Radway fails. Thorpe out of work. IX—Thorpe demands pay of M. & D. for work done by Radway. The contract was illegal, and the firm have profited by the work done. M. AD. settle the account. X—Thorpe provides for Helen’s education and goes into the north woods to locate valuable tract. Makes a friend of Injun Charley and a Chicago boy tourist, Wallace Carpenter. XI and Xll—Wallace has capital and helps Thorpe buy land. Dyer, the old scaler for Radway, Is out looking for land for M. & D. Thorpe goes to Detroit to head off his rivals’ land purchase. XIII ai d XIV— Wallace sends telegraph order to Thorpe at the land office just in time to head off M. A D. in a $30,000 purchase. M. & D. offer to buy. Thorpe won’t sell. War declared.

CHAPTER XlV—Continued. Wallace was sputtering and trembling with nervous excitement. His was one of those temperaments which required action to relieve the stress of & stormy interview. He wanted to do something at once. “Hadn’t we better see a lawyer?” he asked. “Oughtn’t we to look out that they don’t take some of our pine? Oughtn’t we”— “You just leave all that to me,” replied Thorpe. “The first thing we want to do is to rustle some money.” “And you can leave that to me,” echoed Wallace. “I know a little of such things, and I have business connections who know more. You Just get the camp running.” “I’ll start for Bay City tonight,” submitted Thorpe. “There ought to be a good lot of lumber jacks lying around Idle at this time of year, and it’s a good place to outfit from, because we can probably get freight rates direct by boat We’ll be a little late in starting, but we’ll get in some logs this winter anyway.”

CHAPTER XV. CTwIOW, in August, however, the first Tl\l turmoil had died. The “jam” (I had boiled into town, “taken it «* apart” and left the inhabitants to piece it together again as they could. The “rear” had not yet arrived. As a consequence Thorpe found the city comparatively quiet Although his ideas were not as yet formulated, he hoped to be able to pick up a crew of first class men from those who had come down with the advance, or “Jam,” of the spring’s drive. They should have finished their orgies by now and, empty of pocket, should be found hanging about the boarding houses and the quieter saloons. Thorpe iiftended to offer good wages for good men. He would not need more than twenty at first, for daring the approaching winter be intended to log on a very small scale indeed. The time for expansion would come later. With this object in view he set out from his hotel about half past 7 on the day of his arrival to cruise about in the lumber jack district The hotel clerk had obligingly given him the names of a number of the quieter saloons where the boys “hung out” between bursts of prosperity. In the first of these Thorpe was helped materially In his vague and uncertain quest by encountering an old acquaintance, Jackson Hines.

The old man peered at Thorpe. “Don’t you know me?” inquired Thorpe. “Know you? You bet I do. How are you, Harry? Where have you been keepin’ yourself? You look about as fat as a stall fed knittin’ needle.”

“I’ve been land looking in the upper peninsula,” explained Thorpe, “on the Ossawinaxnakee, up in the Marquette country.” “Sho!” commented Jackson in wontier. “Way up there where the moon changes!” “It’s a fine country,” went on Thorpe so every one could hear, “with a great cutting of white pine. It runs as high as twelve hundred thousand to the forty sometimes.” “Trees clean an’ free of limbs?” asked Jackson. ; „

“They’re as good as the stuff over on ‘seventeen.’ You remember that” “Clean as a baby’s leg,” agreed Jackson.

"Have a glass of beer?" asked Thorpe. "Dry as a tobacco box,” confessed Jackson. So they all drank. On a sudden inspiration Thorpe resolved to ask the old man’s advice as to crew and horses. It might not be good for mneb, but it would do no harm. Jackson listened attentively to the other's brief recital. "Why don’t you see Tim Shearer? Ha ain’t doin’ nothin’ since the jam came down,” was his comment “Isn’t be with the M. * D. people?" asked Thorpe. “Nope. Quit" , "How’s that?” “ ’Count of Morrison. He’s been filin’ his teeth for M. A D. right along. “Where’ll I find him?” ,asked Thorpe. Jackson gave the name of s_small

By STEWART EDWARD WHITE

boarding house. Shortly after Thorpe left him to amuse the others with his unique conversation and hunted up Shearer’s stopping place. The boarding house proved to be of the typical lumber Jack class—a narrow stoop, a hallway and stair in the center and an office and bar on either side. Shearer and a half dozen other men about his own age sat, their chairs on two legs and their “cork” boots on the rounds of the chairs, smoking placidly in the tepid evening air. He approached and attempted an identifying scrutiny. The men, with the taciturnity of their class In the presence of a stranger, said nothing. “Well, bub,” finally drawled a voice from the corner, “blowed that stake you made out of Radway yet?” “That you. Shearer?” Inquired Thorpe, advancing. “You’re the man I’m looking for.” “You’ve found me,” replied the old man dryly.

Thorpe was requested elaborately to “shake hands” with the owners of six names. Then he had a chance to Intimate quietly to Shearer that he wanted a word with him alone. The river man rose silently and led the way up the straight, uncarpeted stairs, along a narrow, uncarpeted hall, to a square, uncarpeted bedroom. The walls and ceilings of this apartment were of unpainted planed pine. It contained a cheap bureau, one chair and a bed and washstand to match the bureau. Shearer lit the lamp and sat on the bed. "What Is It?” he asked.

“I have a little pine up in the northern peninsula within walking distance of Marquette,” said Thorpe, “and I want to get a crew of about twenty men. It occurred to me that you might be willing to help me." The river man frowned steadily at his interlocutor from under his bushy brows. “How much pine you got?” he asked finally. “About 300.000,000,” replied Thorpe quietly. The old man's blue eyes fixed themselves with unwavering steadiness on Thorpe’s face. “You’re Jobbing some of it, eh?” he submitted finally as the only probable conclusion. “Do you think you know enough about it? Who does it belong tor

“It belongs to a man named Carpenter and myself.” The river man pondered this slowly for an appreciable interval, and then shot out another question: "How’d you get it?” Thorpe told him simply, omitting nothing except the name of the firm up river. When he had finished Shearer evinced no astonishment nor approval. “You done well,” he commented finally. Then, after another interval:

"Have you found out who was the men stealln’ the pine?” “Yes,” replied Thorpe quietly, “it was Morrison & Daly.” The old man flickered not an eyelid. He slowly filled his pipe and lit It. “I’ll get you a crew of men,” said he, “if you’ll take me as foreman.” “But it’s a little job at first,” protested Thorpe. “I only want a camp of twenty. It wouldn’t be worth your while.”

“That’s my lookout. I’ll take the Job,” replied the logger grimly. “You got 300,000,000 there, ain’t you? And you’re goln’ to cut It? It ain’t such a small job.” Thorpe could hardly believe his good fortune in having gained so important a recruit With a practical man as foreman, his mind would be relieved of a great deal of worry over unfamiliar details. He saw at once that he would himself be able to perform all the duties of scaler, keep in touch with the needs of the camp and supervise the campaign. Nevertheless he answered the older man’s glance with one as keen and said: “Look here, Shearer, If you take this job we may as well understand each other at the start. This is going to be my camp, and I’m going to be boss. I don’t know much about logging, and I shall want you to take charge of all that, but I shall want to know just why you do each thing, and if my Judgment advises otherwise, my Judgment goes. If I want to discharge a man, be walks without any question. I know about what I shall expect of each man, and I intend to get it out of Ijim. And in questions of policy mine ijs the say so every trip. Now, I know yoa re a good man—one of the best there Is—and I presume I shall find your judgment the best, but I don’t want any mistakes to start with. If you want to be my foreman on those terms just say so, and I’ll be tickled to death to

have you.” For the first time the lumbering man’s face feet, during a single instant, its mask of Immobility. His steel blue eyes flashed; bis mouth twitched with some strong emotion. For the first time, too, be spoke without contemplative pause of preparation. "That’s the way to talk!” be cried. “Go with you? Well, I should rise to remark! You're the boss, and I always said it I’ll get yon a gang of bnlly boys that will roll logs till there’s skating in Tophet”

Thorpe left, after making an appointment at his own hotel for the following day, more than pleased with his luck. None the less, he anticipated his next step with shaky confidence. He would now be called upon to buy four or five teams of horses and enough feed to last them the entire winter, and he would have to arrange for provisions in abundance and variety for his men; he would have to figure on blankets, harness, cook camp utensils, stoves, blacksmith’s tools, iron, axes, chains, cant hooks, van goods, palls, lamps, oil, matches, all sorts of hardware—ln short, all the thousand and one things, from needles to court plaster, of which a self sufficing community might come In need. And he would have to figure out bis requirements for the entire winter. After navigation closed he could Import nothing more. Deep in these thoughts he wandered on at random. He suddenly came to himself in the toughest quarter of Bay City. Through the summer night thrilled the sound of cachlnnatlons pointed to the colors of mirth. A cheap piano rattled and thumped through an open window. Men’s and women’s voices mingled In rising and falling graduations of harshness. Lights streamed irregularly across the dark. Thorpe became aware of a figure crouched in the doorway almost at his feet The flickering rays of a distant street lamp threw into relief the high lights of a violin and a head. The face upturned to him was thin and white and wolfish under a broad white brow. Dark eyes gleamed at him with the expression of a fierce animal. Across the forehead ran a long but shallow cut from which blood dripped. The creature clasped both arms around a violin. He crouched there and stared up at Thorpe, who stared down at him.

“What’s the matter?” asked the latter finally. The creature made no reply, but drew his arms closer about his instrument Thorpe made a sign to the unknown to rise.

“Come with me,” said he, “and I’ll have your forehead attended to.” The eyes gleamed into hla with a sudden savage concentration. Then their owner obediently arose.

Thorpe now saw that-the body before him was of a cripple, short legged, hunchbacked, long armed, pigeon breasted. The large head sat strangely top heavy between even the broad

shoulders. It confirmed the hopeless but sullen despair that brooded on the white countenance. At the hotel Thorpe, examining the cut, found it more serious in appearance than in reality. With a few pieces of sticking plaster he drew its edges together. Then he attempted to interrogate his find. “"What is your name?” he asked. “Phil.” “Phil what?” Silence. “How did you get hurt?”

No reply. ~ “Were you playing your fiddle In oon Of those houses?” The cripple noddedjriowly. “Are you hungry?” asked Thorpe* with a sudden thoughtfulness. “Yes,” replied the cripple, with M lightning gleam in bis wolf eyes.

Thorpe rang the bell. To the bofj who answered It he said: “Bring me half a dozen beef sandwlches and a glass of milk, and be quick about It.” “Do you play the fiddle much?” continued Thorpe. The cripple nodded again. “Let’s hear what you can do* “They cut my strings!” cried Phil, with a passionate wail. The cry came from the heart, and Thorpe was touched by it The price of strings was evidently a big sum. “I’ll get you more In the morning,” said he. “Would you like to leave Bay City?”

“Yes!” cried the boy, with passion. “You would have to work. You Aould have to be chore boy in a lumber camp and play fiddle for the men when they wanted you to.” “I’ll do it” said the cripple. “All right; then I’ll take you,” replied Thorpe. The cripple said nothing nor moved a muscle of his face, but the gleam of e the wolf faded to give place to the soft, affectionate glow seen in the eyes of a setter dog. Thorpe was startled at the change. A knock announced the sandwiches and milk. The cripple fell upon them with both hands in a sudden ecstasy of hunger. When he had finished, he looked again at Thorpe, and this time there were tears in his eyes. A little later Thorpe Interviewed the proprietor of the hotel. “I wish you’d give this boy a good cheap room and charge his keep to me,” said he. “He’s going north with me.”

Thorpe lay awake for some time after retiring. Phil claimed a share of his thought In an hour or so he dozed. He dreamed that the cripple had grown to enormous proportions and was overshadowing his life. A slight noise outside his bedroom door brought him to his feet

He opened the door and fonnd that In the stillness of the night the poor deformed creature had taken the blankets from his bed and had spread them across the doors 111 of the man who had befriended him. (TO BE CONTINUED.)

"What's the matter?