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Updated: June 22, 2025
He'll probably chase that assistant woods-boss I hired after the consolidation, out of Shirley's woods and help himself to the fellow's job. I don't care if he does. What interests me is the fact that the old Cardigan woods-boss is back on the job in Cardigan's woods, and I'm mighty glad of it. The old horsethief has had his lesson and will remain sober hereafter. I think he's cured."
"There's a big buck woods-boss up in Pennington's camp," he remarked irrelevantly. "He's a French Canadian imported from northern Michigan by Colonel Pennington. I dare say he's the only man in this country who measures up to you physically. He can fight with his fists and wrestle right cleverly, I'm told. His name is Jules Rondeau, and he's top dog among the lumberjacks.
He only knew that all depended upon the success of his coup to-night. Finally, at a quarter of six, Curtis, his woods-boss rang in. "They're staying here all night, sir," he reported. "House them as far from the log-landing as possible, and organize a poker-game to keep them busy in case they don't go to bed before eight o'clock," Bryce ordered.
From an alder thicket a pompous cock grouse boomed intermittently; the valley quail, in pairs, were busy about their household affairs; from a clump of manzanita a buck watched John Cardigan curiously. "Come with me, McTavish," he said to his woods-boss.
"And now if you will phone up to your logging-camp and instruct the woods-boss to lay off about fifty men to rest for the day, pending a hard night's work, and arrange to send them down on the last log-train to-day, I'll drop around after dinner and we'll fly to that jump-crossing. Here's a list of the tools we'll need."
"Nobody wants to be Cardigan's woods- boss and have to fight my father to hold his job. I realize what a nuisance he has become." Bryce chuckled. "I asked Father why he didn't stand pat and let Mac work for nothing; having discharged him, my father was under no obligation to give him his salary just because he insisted on being woods-boss.
"Jules Rondeau can do ze job," the woods-boss replied easily. "Ze law, she have not restrain' me. I guess mebbeso you don' take dose theengs away, eh, M'sieur Cardigan. Myself, I lak see." The deputy marshal handed Rondeau a paper, at the same time showing his badge. "You're out, too, my friend," he laughed. "Don't be foolish and try to buck the law.
And without further ado, Bryce strode to meet his man. "Are you Jules Rondeau?" he demanded as he came up to the woods-boss. The latter nodded. "I'm Bryce Cardigan," his interrogator announced, "and I'm here to thrash you for chopping that big redwood tree over in that little valley where my mother is buried." "Oh!" Rondeau smiled. "Wiz pleasure, M'sieur."
Presently the woods-boss, accompanied by thirty of his best men, came down to the log-landing. At Bryce's order they clambered aboard the engine and tender, hanging on the steps, on the roof of the cab, on the cowcatcher anywhere they could find a toe-hold.
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