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But a flagstaff was erected near, no stouter one stands on Beachy Head or elsewhere, and on it was engraved: PHIL BOLDRICK, Buried with Municipal Honours on the Thirtieth day of June 1883. This to his Memory, and for the honour of Viking and Sunburst. "Padre," said a river-driver to Galt Roscoe after the rites were finished, "that was a man you could trust."

It was especially true of the old-fashioned river-driver, for a misstep, a miscalculation, a moment's forgetfulness of the sullen forces shifting and changing about him could mean for him maiming or destruction. So, finally, to one of an imaginative bent, these eyes, like the "cork boots," grew to seem part of the uniform, one of the marks of their caste, the outward symbol of their calling.

The wave of his hand was expansive, his stride was swaying and decisive, his over-ruling, fraternal faculty was always in full swing. Viking was his adopted child; so much so that a gentleman river-driver called it Philippi; and by that name it sometimes went, and continues still so among those who knew it in the old days.

It'd look sociable, wouldn't it?" "There'll be a volley and the whistle, Phil if you have to go," said Mr. Devlin. There was a silence, then the reply came musingly: "I guess I hev to go. ... I'd hev liked to see the corporation runnin' longer, but maybe I can trust the boys." A river-driver at the door said in a deep voice: "By the holy! yes, you can trust us."

What was in his mind was also passing through that of the river-driver and a few of his friends, and they carefully watched the route he was taking. Jean Jacques prepared to depart. He had ever loved to be the centre of a picture, but here was a time when to be in the centre was torture.

Between ourselves, Rockwell, I'd have plenty of lint and bandages ready for emergencies if I were you." "I'll see to it. That collision the other day was serious enough, and it's gradually becoming a vendetta. Last night one of the Lebanon champions lost his nose." "His nose how?" "A French river-driver bit a third of it off." Ingolby made a gesture of disgust. "And this is the twentieth century!"

Yet there were people who called the tavern a "shebang" slander as it was against Suzon Charlemagne, which every river-driver and woodsman and habitant who frequented the place would have resented with violence. It was because they thought Charley Steele slandered the girl and the place in his mind, that the river-drivers had sworn they would make it hot for him if he came again.

"He's a friend of the Monseigneur," ventured a factory-hand, who had a wife and children to support, and however partisan, was little ready for that which would stop his supplies. "Sacre bapteme! That's part of his game," roared the big river-driver in reply. "I'll take the word of Felix Marchand about that. Look at him! That Felix Marchand doesn't try to take the bread out of people's mouths.

The big river-driver represented their natural instincts, their native fanaticism, their prejudices. But the old man spoke once more. "Ingolby wants Lebanon and Manitou to come together, not to fall apart," he declared. "He wants peace. If he gets rich here he won't get rich alone. He's working for both towns. If he brings money from outside, that's good for both towns. If he "

With the skilled eye of an old river-driver he soon discovered the "key." Right beneath him lay the log that could unlock the huge, groaning gateway, and let the impeded tide sweep safely down the valley. Duncan leaned forward and pried at it with his pole, putting into the work a strange strength he had not felt for many a year. The mass creaked ominously.