Jasper County Democrat, Volume 17, Number 77, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 January 1915 — NOVEMBER JOE [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

NOVEMBER JOE

TfreDetective foftheWoods

by Hesketh Prichard

SYNOPSIS. James Quarltch engages November Joe as his guide. Joe and he go to Big Tree portage to investigate the murder of a trapper named Lyon. i Joe- decides that the murderer followed Lyon to his camp and shot him from a canoe. By studying woodland evidence and making clever deductions Joe discovers the murderer, 'Highamson. Lumberman Close reports that Blackmask, a highwayman, is robbing his men.

CHAPTER IV7 The Seven Lumberjacks. THE more I saw of Joe in the days which followed, the more I appreciated the man and the more I became convinced of his remarkable gifts. It was not long after our return from St Amlel before Joe succeeded tn getting me a fair shot at the large red deer buck of Widdeney pond, and it so happened that the killing of this buck brought us news of old Highamson, for we took the head down to him to set up. Joe and I walked over and found him living with his daughter, Janey Lyon, for the police had never been successful in discovering tho identity of the avenger of Big Tree portage. .The two seemed very happy together, but I must acknowledge that I feared from What I saw that the beautiful Janey would not continue to bear the name of Lyon much longer. I said as much to November Joe as we were walking back. “That’s nature,” said he. “Old Man Highamson told me that neither Baxter Gurd nor Miller don’t give her no peace. Well, I guess a woman's better married anyway.” It Was drawing on toward evening and had begun to rain when we turned from the woods into the mile long trail that led to November’s shack. His quick glance fell at once upon the ground and, following his eye, I saw the impression of fresh tracks. “What do they tell you?” I asked, for it was always a matter of interest to me to put November’s skill to the little daily tests that came in my way. “Try yourself,” said he. “A man in moccasins—probably an Indian—has passed along. Isn’t that right?” I asked. November Joe smiled grimly. “Not just quite. The man isn’t an Indian; he’s a white man, and he carries big news and has not come very far.” “You’re sure?” I said, stooping to examine the trail more closely, but without result “Certain! The Indian moccasin has no raised heel. These have. He’s not come far. He’s traveling fast—see, he springs from the ball of the foot, and when a man finishes a journey on the run you may be sure he thinks he’s got a good reason for getting to the end of it This trail leads nowhere but to my shack, and we’ll sure find our man there.”

Ten minutes later, when we came in sight of November’s home, we were aware of a big man sitting on a log smoking his pipe beside the door. He was middle aged, with a hard face, and there was more gray in his russet beard than his age warranted. As soon as we appeared he leaped up and came across the open to meet us. “Blackmask is at it again!” he cried. I saw a gleam of anticipation, if not of pleasure, cross November’s face. He turned to me. “This Is Mr. Close, manager of the River Star Pulp company’s Camp C,” he said. “I’d like to make you known to Mr. Quaritch, Mr Close.” This courtesy concluded, he added in his deliberate tones, “What’s Blackmask done now?” “He’s at his old tricks! But this year we’ll lay him by the heels, or my name’s not Joshua Close.’’ The speaker looked up, and, seeing my puzzled expression, addressed himself to me. “Last year there were five separate robberies committed on. the road between Camp C and the settlement,” he explained. “Each time it was Just a single lumberjack who got held up, and each time a man'in a black mask was the robber, November here was away.” “Up in Wyoming with a Philadelphia lawyer after elk,” supplemented the tall young woodsman. “The police failed to make any arrest, though once they were on the ground within four hours of the holdup,” went on-Close. “But all that Is. ancient history. It is what happened to Dan Michaels last night that brought me here at seven miles an

hour. Dan has been working for pretty nigh a three months’ stretch, and the day before yesterday he came into the office and told me his mother was dead and he must have leave for the funeral. He had a good big roll of bills due, and I could see he meant to blow them, so I paid him and told him I’d try to keep a job warm for him till he came back from the funeral. I gave him ten days to get through with his spree. Something I’d said annoyed him, and after telling the cook his opinion of me and saying he wouldn’t sleep another night in a camp where I was boss he legged out for the settlement” _ “By himself?” - “Yes, alone Next morning, bright and early, be was back again, and this was the yarn he slung me. He’d made about eight miles when it came on darkish, and he decided to camp just beyond where we did the most of our timber cut last year. He slept at once and remembers nothing more until he was started awake by a voice shouting at him. He sat up blinking, but the talk he heard soon fetched his eyes open.

“ ‘Hands up and no fooling!’ “Of course he put up his bands. He’d no choice, for he couldn’t see any one. Then another man who was in the bushes behind bls back ordered him to haul out his bundle of notes and chuck them to the far side of the fire or take the consequences. Dan saw a revolver barrel gleam in the bush. He cursed a bit, but the thieves had the drop on him, so he just had to out with his wad of notes and heave them over as he was told. A birch log in the fire flared up at the minute, and as the notes touched the ground he saw a chap in a black mask step out and pick them up and then jump back into the dark. Then the voice that fepoke first gave'hHn the" hihF not*to move for- two hours or he’d be shot like a dog. He sat out the twb hours by his watch without hearing a sound and then came back to C. “When the boys got all the facts the whole camp was nigh as mad as he was.. They put up SSO reward for any one giving Information that will lead to catching the robbers, and I added another hundred for the company. So now, Joe, if you can clap your hand on the brutes you’ll be doing yourself a good turn and others too.” Close ended his narration, and looked at November, who had listened throughout in his habitual silence. “Do the boys up at O know you’ve qome to me?” he said. ‘■No, I thought it wiser they shouldn’t” November remained silent for a moment

“You’d best get away back, Mr. Close,” he said at length. . “I’ll go down to Perkins* clearing, and have a look at the spot where the robbery took place, and then I’ll find some excuse to take me to Camp C, when I can make my report to you.” To this Close agreed, and the two of us set out through the woods to the site of Dan Michaels’ bivouac. The ashes of a fire and a few boughs made its scanty furnishings, and in neither did November take much Interest Forth and back he moved, apparently following lines of tracks which the drenching rain of the previous day had almost obliterated, until, indeed, after ten minutes, he gave it up. “Well, well,” said he, in his soft cadenced voice, “he always did have the luck.” “Who?” “The robber. Look at last year! Got clear every time.” “The robbers,” I corrected. “There’s but one,” said he. “Michaels mentioned two voices, and the man in the mask stepped into sight at the same moment as the fire glinted on the revolver of the other man in the bushes.” Without a word November led me to the farther side of the fire and parted the boughs of a spruce, which I had previously seen him examine. At a height of less than five feet from the ground one or two twigs Were broken, and the bark had been rubbed near the trunk. “He was a mighty interesting man, him with the revolver.” . November threw back his handsome head and laughed; —“There was only one chap, and he fixed the revolver here in that fork. It;, was a good bluff he played on Dan, making him think there was two agin blm! The rain’s washed out most of the tracks, so we’ll go up to Camp C and fry our luck there. But first I’d better shoot a deer, and the

6oys ’ll think 1 only come to carry them some meat, as I often do when I kill anywhere nigh the camp.” As we made our way toward C, November found the tracks of a young buck which had crossed the tote road since the rain, and'while I waited he slipped away like a shadow; into the wild raspberry growth, returning twenty minutes later with the buck upon his shoulders. On reaching Camp C November sold his deer to the cook, and then we went to the office. The men were all away at work, but we found the manager, to

whom November told his news. 1 noticed, however, he said nothing of bis idea that there had been but one robber. • “That just spells total failure,” remarked Close when he had finished. - November assented. “Guess we’ll have to wait till another chap is held up,” said he. “You think they’ll try their hand at it again?” “Sure. Who'd stop after such success?" “I’d be inclined to agree with you if it wasn’t for the fact that the men won’t leave singly now. They’re scared to. A party of six started this afternoon. They were hoping they’d have the luck to meet the scoundrels and bucking how they’d let daylight Into them if they did. Put of course they won’t turn up—they'd be shy of such a big party.” “Maybe,” - sald‘ r November. “With your permission, Mr. Close, me and Quaritch’ll sleep here tonight” “All right But I can’t attend to you. I’m behind with my accounts, and I must even them up if it takes all night.” “And there’s one question I’d like to have an answer to. It’s just this: How did the robber know that Dan Michaels was worth holding up? Or that he was going off on the spree? He must have been told by some one. Blackmask has got a friend in Camp O all right That is, unless”— “Aye, unless?” repeated the manager But November would say no more. An idea bad come into his mind, but Close could not draw it from him; yet I could see he had entire trust in the taciturn young woodsman. Next morning November seemed in no hurry to go, and shortly before the midday meal a party of half a dozen men rushed into the camp. They were all shouting at once, and it was impossible for a time to discover what the turmoil was about Leaning against the wall of the bunkhouse, the silent November surveyed the clamoring knot of men with grim humor. “I tell you again, we’ve been held up, robbed, cleaned out the whole six of us!” yelled a short man with a sandy beard. “Thot Is true!” cried a fair haired Swede. On this they all began shouting again, waving their arms and explaining. November advanced. “Look, boys, that’s an easy, 'comfortable log over there!” The Swede answered him with a snarl, but meeting November’s eyes, thought better of it Joe was the last person upon whom any one would would Choose to fix a quarrel. “I was suggesting, boys,” continued November, “that there’s the log handy, and if you’d each choose a soft spot and leave one to speak and the others listen till he’s through with it we’d get at the facts. Every minute wasted gives them as robbed you the chance to get off clear.” ; J < . “November’s tight” said a huge lumberman called Thompson. “Here’s what happened. We six got our time yesterday morning, and after dinner we started off together. It were coming along dark when we camped in the old log hut of Tideson’s bridge. Seeln’ what had happened to Dan, we agreed to keep a watch till dawn. First watch was Harry’s. IU an hour and a half he were to wake me. He never did. The sun Were up before I woke, and there was all the others sleeping round me. I was wonderful surprised, but I took the kettle and was going down to fill her at the brook. It was then that I noticed my roll of bills was gone from my belt I came runulnk back. Harry woke, and when I

told him ho clutches at his belt and finds his money gone too. Then Chris, Kill Maver, Wedding Charlie and last of all Long Lars they wakes up, and, danged if the lot of them hadn’t been robbed same as fls.” A unanimous groan verified the statemeat. "We was tearing mad,’’ went on the spokesman. “Then out we goes to search for the tracks of the thieves.” A look of despair crossed November’s face. I knew he was thinking of the invaluable information the feet of the six victims must have blotted out forever. “You found them?” inquired November. “We did. They was plain enough,” replied the big lumberman. "One man done it. He come up from the brook, did his business and went back to the water. He was & big, heavy chap with large feet, and he wore tanned cowhide boots patched on the right foot There were seventeen nails In the heel of the right boot and fifteen In the other. How’s that for tracking?” (TO BE CONTINUED )

“Hands up and no fooling!”