Jasper County Democrat, Volume 17, Number 103, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 April 1915 — November Joe [ARTICLE]

November Joe

The Detective of the Woods

By HESKETH PRICHARD

G iAPTER XVII. The city or the Woods? J ALTHOU 111 Dandy Tomlinson’s bullet had passed through Joe’s shouli er, it had left a very ugly woun 1, but the young woodsman’s clean nd healthy life stood him in good steat , and the process of heal ing went on rapidly. We had set-bed a doctor from Priamville, who le t a string of instructions, which Linda carried out as closely as she could. Indeed, she would have devoted most of her time to Joe, but he managed to make her spend a good part of each day out of doors. Sometimes he would beg for a fish for his supper and she must catch it herself to prove how well she had profited by his teaching. There were half a hundred things be suggested, not one of which was obvious or trifling, until I marveled at fits ingenuity. “You are finding the time long, Joe?” I said on o! e occasion. “No, Mr. Quaritch, the hours slip past quick enough. I’ve never had a lle-by and awhile for thinking since I been a man There’s a good few puzzles to life that wants facing one time or another. I s’pose.” “Which puzzle is it that you are facing now?” “Mr. Petersham wants to be the making of me.” “Then you're about the luckiest young man in this hemisphere.” “Just so, and I feel his kindness is tnore’n I deserve. He’d make me head warden here for a bit first and then send some kind of a professor to teach me how to talk and fix me up generally.” He paused. “Well, that sounds very reaso:* hie,” I commented. “And after they’d scraped some of the moss off me he'd put me into his office.” 9 I hid the astonishment I felt at this announcement. “After that it’d be up to me to make good. He’d help all he knew.”

“It sounds a very brilliant future for you, November.” Joe was silent for a moment. “It does, Mr. Quaritch,” he said at length in a different tone. “And it gives me something to think about. So they caught Muppy all right? Him and Puttick ’ll find prison a poor place after the woods.” “I can feel for them,” said I, “for I am leaving the woods tomorrow myself. I must get back to Quebec.” “Huh, yes! There’s no call for you to stay longer.” “As-to that, you’ll be here for quite awhile yourself.” He made no reply, and when I turned from the window to look at him he was lying with his eyes closed, and, thinking he was tired, I left him. At the end of the south veranda was situated a small detached room which we had turned into a workshop, and early the same afternoon I went around there to repair a favorite fishing rod. The veranda was empty as I passed through it, but presently Petersham joined me. “That fellow November Joe is an infernal fool!” he said presently. “He is a dolt without an ounce of ambition!” “In his own sphere”— 1 began. “He is all very well in his own sphere, hut he should try to rise above it.” 1 ‘ “He has done uncommonly well for himself so far,” I said. “He has made good use of his brains and his experience. In his own way he is very, very capable.” “That is true enough, but he has got about as far as he can go without help. As. you say. he has done all this for hithself. Now, I am reftdy to do a g6od deal ihore for him. I'll back him in any line of business he chooses to follow. I owe him that and more. Heaven knows what might have happened to Linda but for him.” “You owe a good deal to November.” “I am well aware of it,” replied Petersham. “I am convinced I owe him Linda’s life.” Something in his tone showed me his further meaning. I dropped my fishing rod and stared at him. I knew Linda had enormous influence over her father, but this nwas beyond imagination. “You’d never allow it!” I exclaimed. “Why not?” he retorted angrily. “Isn’t Joe better the Ilipper dude? Or Phil than that Italian count with his pedigree from Noah in his pocket? Tell me. where is she going to find q man like Joe? Why, he’s got it in him to do thingshig things—and I hope I’m good enough republican not to see the injustice of nailing a fellow down to the spot where be was bom,” “But November would never dars look so high! He’s modest” “He’ll get over that!”. “I doubt it,” I said, “Besides, you are reckoning without Linda. How

dcTyou know That shd"— “Naturally I dipn't know for sure about Linda,” he answered shortly; then, glancing at his watch, he got np. “Just about time to get my mail ready.” We had been speaking in low tones, for the subject of our conversation naturally did not lend itself to loud talk, and besides, during the last quarter of an hour or so a murmur of voices from the verandah had warned us to be careful. We had uot shut the door leading to the veranda, as it was the only one, and we needed it open for light and air. Fetersham walked toward it, but, instead of stepping out, he turned and laid a hand like a vise on ruy arm, “Quiet! Quiet for your life!” he whispered. “She must never know we were here!” “But, Joe, you’re mistaken, Joe. I wish it!” It was Linda's voice, shy and trembling as I had never heard it. “Ah, that's all your great goodness. Miss Linda, and I haven’t earned none of it.” i.* ( I pointed frantically to the door. We must shut that door aud shut out those voices, but Petersham swore at me under his breath. “Darn, you know those hinges screech like a wildcat! It can’t be helped, for it would kill her to know we heard a word of this.” We crept away into the farthest corner of the workshop, but even there phrases floated to us, though mercifully we could not hear all. “But father, would help you, for you know you are a genius, Joe.” “All I could ever do lies in the woods, Miss Linda; woodsways is the whole of it. A yard outside the wood and the meanest chap bred on the streets could beat me easy. I can’t thank you nor Mr. Petersham the way I’d like to, for my tongue is slow.” Here ilia voice fell. “But if you hate the dity life so much you must not go to the city.” It was Linda again. “Live your life in the woods. I love the woods too.” “The woods is bleak and black enough to them that’s not born among the trees. Them that’s lived outside alius wants more, Miss Linda.” A long interval followed before the voices became audible again. “Oh, no, no, Joe!” Petersham clutched my arm once more at the sound.

“You’re so young, Miss Linda, yon don’t know. I’d give my right hand to believe different, but'T can’t. It wouldn't be best—not for you.” November’s tone moved me more than Linda’s passion. He was a man fighting it out against his own heart. I knew well the power of attraction Linda possessed, but somehow I had not guessed how it had worked on Joe. I had, indeed, been right in so far that he had not dreamed of aspiring to her; nevertheless the episode would mean pain and loss to him, I feared, for many a day. .. Once more I heard him. “Don’t you think I'll be proud e T ery hour I have to live that you was so good to me, Miss Lluda? I shan't never forget it.” “Joe, 1 thinlv't-knte you!" she cried. And then the quick tgpof her footsteps told us she had run inu> the house. There was absolute silence for a minute or two. At length Joe sighed heavily and with the slow laborious movement of weakness went to his room. When all seemed safe Petersham and I stole out of hiding like thieves, and, though we exchanged no word, Petersham Was swearing violently under his breath until he shut his office door. Rather to my surprise November Joe came out for awhile after supper, because he said it was my last evening at Kalmacks. Neither he nor Linda gave any sign that anything unusual had passed between them. Indeed, we were gay enough, and we had Charley Paul in to sing us some French-Cana-dian songs. ’ After saying goodby as well as good night to Linda and her father I followed Joe to his room. “I won’t wake you up in the morning, November,” I said. “There’s nothing like rest and sleep to put you on your legs again.” - "I’Ve been trying that cure, Mr. Quaritch, and I won’t be long behind you.” “Oh, where are you going to?” “To my shack on Charley's brook. I’m kind o’ homesick like, and that’s the truth.” ; “But how about Mr. Petersham's wish to give you a start in his business in New York or Montreal?” “I’m not the kind of a guy for a city, Mr. Quaritch. All the chaps ’d get turning round to stare at the poor wild fella, and I’d sure be scairt to sleep in one of them up in the blue sky houses anyw’ay!” He laughed. “But you would soon be used to city ways and perhaps become rich.” “That was what the mink said to the otter: ‘Go you to the city and see the sights,’ says he, but the otter knew the only way he'd ever see the city would be around some lovely gal’s neck.” November Joe had no idea how far I could read into his fable. “And what did the otter say?" “Huh, nothing! He just went down his slide into the lake and got chasin’ fish, and I guess he soon forgot he missed stein’ the city gll right” “And how about you, Joe?” “I guess I’ll get chasin’ fish, too, Mr. Quaritch.” When I arrived at the depot at Priamsville in the morning, to my surprise I found November Joe there before me. “Why, Joe!” I exclaimed, “you’re not fit to travel.” “I thought I’d go on the cars with you, Mr. Quaritch, If you’ll have me. There’s a good many times to change before we gets to Silent Water, and I’m not so wonderful quick on my feet yet" _