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Updated: June 28, 2025
But after whittling vigorously at a bar for a few moments he stopped suddenly, shut his knife and rammed it into his pocket with an exclamation of sudden resolve. He reflected that even if he got out of the camp that night, he was more than fifty miles from Poquette, the only point in that wilderness whose location was known to him.
"Your client doesn't seem to be in an especially amiable and lamb-like mood this morning," said Parker. The lawyer dusted the snow from his garments. "Beautiful disposition, old Gid Ward has!" he snarled. "Left me here to walk sixteen miles to a railroad-station, and never offered to settle with me." "You forget the 'Poquette and Sunkhaze Air-Line," Parker smiled.
After he and his manager had returned to their duties in the city, the surprising word began to go about the district that next year there would be a railroad across Poquette carry. When the rumor was traced to Rowe, he found himself in for a good deal of rough badinage for allowing two city sportsmen to "guy" him.
He pointed to the men of the settlement, who were now joined by their wives and children, and were watching operations from the bank. "Three cheers for the brave men and the sweet ladies o' Sunkhaze!" Loud laughter followed these cheers. The people on the shore remained discreetly silent. "Three groans for the Poquette Railro'd!"
The trip to Poquette was exhilarating and uneventful. Parker left his fireman to look after the "train," and accompanied by an interested retinue of citizens, tramped across the six miles of carry road on a preliminary tour of inspection. He returned well satisfied. The route was fairly level; a few détours would save all cuts, and the plan of trestles would do away with fills.
"Much travel over the Poquette Carry?" asked Whittaker. "Good deal," said Rowe. "It's the thoroughfare between the West Branch and Spinnaker, you know. All the men for the woods leave the train at Sunkhaze, boat it across Spinnaker, and walk the carry at Poquette. All the supplies for the camp come that way, too. They bateau goods up the river from the West Branch end of the carry."
"Gid Ward has always backed everybody off the trail into the bushes round here" said Seth. "But he's up against a different crowd now." "Do ye think, in the first place, that Colonel Gid is going to sell 'em any right o' way across Poquette?" asked the postmaster. "He owns the whole tract there." "Oh, there's ways of getting it," replied Seth. "Let lawyers alone for that when they're paid.
Parker rose with a confident air he was far from feeling. Ward gazed on his prisoner a moment, his gray hair bristling from under his fur cap, his little eyes glittering maliciously. His cheek knobs were more irately purple than ever. He took up his cry where he had left it at Poquette Carry, and began to shout: "Better'n law, hey? Better'n law! Ye remember what I said, don't yeh? Better'n law!"
"There's no use of me and you backin' and fillin'!" shouted the old man. "You know me and I know you. You think you're goin' to tote your material up over this lake and build that railroad across my carry at Poquette?" "Yes, that's what I am going to do." Ward shot out his two great fists. "Naw, ye ain't!" he howled. Parker turned and consulted his steam-gage and water indicator.
That official stroked down his beard, tipped his chair back, surveyed the young man with the solemnity of the midnight raven and observed: "I hear you and Colonel Gid had it hot and tight up to Poquette to-day." "There was an argument," returned Parker, quietly. "I don't want to be considered as meddlin' with your affairs, Mr.
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