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Updated: May 25, 2025
For a fleeting second Moncrossen glared into his eyes, and without a word, turned and led the way, closely followed by Bill and Jeanne, while the crowd of wondering lumber-jacks brought up the rear. At the storehouse Moncrossen paused. "I'll fetch the key from the office," he leered; but Bill turned to a man who stood leaning upon his axe.
The children grinned at him cheerfully; the old women cackled good-natured little teasing jests to him as he passed; the pretty, dusky half-breed girls dropped their eyelashes fascinatingly across their cheeks, tempering their coyness with a smile; the men painfully demanded information as to artistic achievement which was evidently as well meant as it was foreign to any real thirst for knowledge they might possess; even the lumber-jacks addressed him as "Bub."
But for the presence of Father Adam, who seemed to exercise a miraculous restraining influence, these lumber-jacks would have crowded in and forcibly borne their champion to the suttler's store for those copious libations, which, in their estimate, was the only fitting conclusion to the scene they had witnessed. As it was they made way.
That highbred animal fruitlessly attempted to combine dignity with a discretionary lurking between our legs. We made demonstrations with sticks, and sought out the hotel, for it was about time to eat. We had supper at a table with three Forest Rangers, two lumber-jacks, and a cat-like handsome "breed" whose business did not appear. Then we lit up and strolled about to see what we could see.
"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." A lumbering town after the drive is a fearful thing.
They could pound the top of his head and welcome. The only thing he really feared was a kick in the side, and for that there was hardly room. The conductor stood over the heap, at a manifest advantage. "You lumber-jacks had enough, or do you want to catch it plenty?" The men, drunk though they were, realized their helplessness. They signified they had had enough.
She remarked on how warm it seemed, and began to untie from over her ears the narrow band of veil that held close her hat. "Yes," replied Orde. "The lumber-jacks say that the woods are the poor man's overcoat." She paused to savour this, her head on one side, her arms upraised to the knot. "Oh, I like that!" said she, continuing her task. In a moment or so the veil hung free.
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