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Updated: June 29, 2025
His hand had flown to his hip. But he was given no time. Bat was on him like an avalanche, an avalanche of furious purpose. The fighting spirit in him yearned, and in a moment his victim was caught up in a crushing embrace. There was a short, fierce struggle. But Idepski was no match for the super lumber-jack.
He would not need more than twenty at first, for during the approaching winter he purposed 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 seven on the day of his arrival, to cruise about in the lumber-jack district already described.
Thorpe went to the men's camp, where he singled out the unfortunate lumber-jack in question. "Come on, Archie," he said. "The ladies want to hear you sing." The man objected, refused, pleaded, and finally obeyed what amounted to a command. Thorpe reentered the office with triumph, his victim in tow. "This is Archie Harris," he announced heartily. "He's our best singer just now.
It generally is, in a well-conducted camp, but the lumber-jack is a great hand to growl, and he usually begins with his food. Thorpe listened to his vague objections in silence. "All right," he remarked simply. Next day he touched the man on the shoulder just as he was starting to work. "Step into the office and get your time," said he. "What's the matter?" asked the man.
Jackson gave the name of a small 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 hall-way and stairs in the center, and an office and bar on either side.
And conciliation means weakness every time. Your lumber-jack likes to be met front to front, one strong man to another. As you value your authority, the love of your men, and the completion of your work, keep a bluff brow and an unbending singleness of purpose. Radway's peculiar temperament rendered him liable to just this mistake.
You see, these 'ere schools ain't a bit like the schools at 'ome, sir. They're so confusing with their subjecks. "So you want an easy job for your son, eh?" enquired Mr. Maitland. "Boy," he said sharply to Samuel, whose eyes had again become fixed upon the gay and daring lumber-jack. Samuel recalled himself with visible effort. "Why did you leave school? The truth, mind."
Lawton emitted a curious sound like a snort. It was mainly, however, an ejaculation of violent impatience. Bat turned with a twinkling grin, surveying the queer figure. His engineer was always a source of the profoundest interest for him. Just now, in his hard, rough clothing, he might have been a lumber-jack, or casual labourer.
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