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Updated: June 28, 2025
Only at the very last, when it would seem that some of them must surely he caught, did the river-jacks, using their peavy-shafts as balancing poles, zigzag calmly to shore across the plunging logs. Newmark seemed impressed. "That was a close shave," said he to the last man ashore. "What?" inquired the riverman. "Didn't see it. Somebody fall down?"
Thorpe was requested elaborately to "shake hands" with the owners of six names. Then he had a chance to intimate quietly to Shearer that he wanted a word with him alone. The riverman rose silently and led the way up the straight, uncarpeted stairs, along a narrow, uncarpeted hall, to a square, uncarpeted bedroom. The walls and ceiling of this apartment were of unpainted planed pine.
Hell!" and the old riverman relapsed into a disgusted silence. Considerably perturbed, Bob hunted up Larsen. "Look here, Larsen," said he, "they tell me a delay here is likely to hang up this drive. Is that right?" The old man looked at his interlocutor, his brow wrinkled. "I wish Darrell was in charge," said he. "What would Darrell do that you can't do?" demanded Bob bluntly.
In it he lamented the good old times when he was young, and gave it as his opinion that the world was going to the dogs." Tally grinned slowly; and the others burst into a shout of laughter. "All right, bub," said the riverman good-humouredly. "But that doesn't get me a new foreman." He turned to Fox. "Smith broke his leg; and I can't find a man to take charge. I can't go.
The riverman frowned steadily at his interlocutor from under his bushy brows. "How much pine you got?" he asked finally. "About three hundred millions," replied Thorpe quietly. The old man's blue eyes fixed themselves with unwavering steadiness on Thorpe's face. "You're jobbing some of it, eh?" he submitted finally as the only probable conclusion. "Do you think you know enough about it?
Wallace Carpenter attempted to push through the ring for the purpose of stopping him. A gigantic riverman kindly but firmly held him back. "I guess it's just as well we hears this," said the latter.
The frontiersmen stood in groups, watching the savages with an interest which showed little or no concern. "I want to see Captain Williamson," said Jim to a frontiersman on guard at the cabin door. "Wal, he's inside," drawled the man. Jim thought the voice familiar, and he turned sharply to see the sun-burnt features of Jeff Lynn, the old riverman who had taken Mr. Wells' party to Fort Henry.
He had even bought, not from Carnac, but from a dealer, two of Carnac's pictures and a statue of a riverman. Somehow the years had had their way with him. He had at long last realized that material things were not the great things of life, and that imagination, however productive, should be guided by uprightness of soul. One thing was sure, the boy had never been told who his father was.
Here and there swaggered a strapping riverman, his small felt hat cocked aggressively over one eye, its brim curled up behind; a cigar stump protruding at an angle from beneath his sweeping moustache; his hands thrust into the pockets of his trousers, "stagged" off at the knee; the spikes of his river boots cutting little triangular pieces from the wooden sidewalk.
The sixth sealer was much older and of the riverman type. He had evidently come up from the ranks. There was no general conversation. Talk confined itself strictly to shop. Bob, his imagination already stirred by the incidents of his stroll, listened eagerly. Fox was getting in touch with the whole situation.
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