_ Above the purple knobs on his cheekbones Colonel Gideon Ward's little gray eyes snapped malevolently. He roared as he lashed at his trembling horse. The animal dodged and backed and stubbornly refused to advance on the strange thing that was pouring white clouds into the air and uttering fearful cries.
At last the horse reared, stood upright and fell upon its side, splintering the thills. Several of the men ran forward, but before the animal could scramble to its feet Ward leaped out, tied its forelegs together with the reins, and left it floundering in the snow. Then he came forward with his great whip in his hand. The crowd drew aside apprehensively, and he tramped straight up to the locomotive.
"What do ye mean," he roared, "by having engines out here to scare hosses into conniptions? Take that thing off this lake and put it back on the railroad tracks up there where it belongs!" He shook his fists over his shoulder in the direction of the distant embankment.
"You will observe," said Parker, blandly, "that there is some twenty inches difference between the gage of the wheels and the gage--"
"I don't care that"--and Colonel Ward snapped the great whip--"for your gages and your gouges! Take that engine off this ro'd."
"I don't care to discuss the matter," returned Parker, quietly. "I am busy about my own affairs--too busy to quarrel."
"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. Then he rang the bell.
"All aboard!" he shouted. "First train for Poquette."
A nervous little laugh went round at his quiet jest, and twoscore men boarded the sleds. For the first time in his roaring, reckless and quarrelsome life Colonel Gideon Ward found himself in the presence of a man who defied him scornfully and facing an obstacle that promised ridiculous defeat.
The titter of the crowd spurred his rage into fury. He took his whip between his teeth, and grasping the hand-rods, was about to lift himself into the cab. Parker put his gloved hand against the old man's breast.
"Not without an invitation, Colonel Ward," he said. "Our party is made up."
"Don't want to ride in your infernal engine!" bellowed Ward, "I'm goin' to hoss-whip you, you--"
"Colonel Ward, you know the legal status of the Poquette Carry Railroad, don't you?"
"I don't care--"
"If you don't know it, then consult your counsel. You are on the property of the Poquette Railroad Company. I order you off. There's nothing for you to do but to go."
Eyes as fiery as Ward's own met the colonel. The pressure on his breast straightened to a push. He fell back upon the snow.
The next moment Parker pulled the throttle. The spike-spurred driving-wheels whirred and slashed the ice and snow until the "bite" started the train, and then it moved away up the long road, leaving Ward screaming maledictions after it.
"Well," panted the fireman, "that'll be the first time Colonel Gid Ward was ever stood round in his whole life!"
"I'm sorry to have words with an old man," said Parker, "but he must accept the new conditions here."
"This is new, all right!" gasped the fireman, with an expressive sweep of his hand about the little cab.
Parker was watching his new contrivance with interest. His steering-gear was rude, being a single runner under the tender with tiller attachment, but it served the purpose. The road was so nearly a straight line that little steering was necessary.
The snow on the lake road was solid, and the spikes, with the weight of the engine settling them, drove the sleds along at a moderate rate of speed. The problem of the lake transportation was settled. When Parker quickened the pace to something like twelve miles an hour, the men cheered him hoarsely.
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. With the eye of the practised engineer, Parker saw that neither survey nor construction involved any special problems. Therefore he selected his landing on the Spinnaker shore, and resolved to make all haste in hauling his material across the lake.
When the expedition arrived at Sunkhaze at dusk, the postmaster brought the information that Colonel Ward had stormed away on the down-train with certain hints about getting some law on his own account. He had sworn over and over in most ferocious fashion that the Poquette Carry road should not be built so long as law and dynamite could be bought.
For two days Parker peacefully transported material, twenty tons a trip and two trips a day. On the evening of the third day Colonel Ward arrived from the city, accompanied by a sharp-looking lawyer. The two immediately hastened away across the lake toward Poquette.
Parker had twenty men garrisoned in a log camp at the carry, and had little fear that his supplies would be molested. It was hardly credible, either, that a man with as extensive property interests as Colonel Ward possessed would dare to destroy wantonly the goods of a railroad company in the strong position of the Poquette road. However, Parker resolved to make a survey at once, in order to put the swampers at work chopping trees and clearing the right of way.
When he left the cab of his engine the next forenoon at Poquette, he saw the furred figure of Colonel Ward in front of his carry camp a sort of half-way station for the timber operator's itinerant crews. The lawyer was at his elbow.
Parker ignored their presence.
A half-hour later the young engineer had established his Spinnaker terminal point, and was running his lines. Still no word from the colonel, who was tramping up and down in front of the camp. Parker's whimsical fancy pictured those furs and coon tails as bristling and fluffing like the hair of an angry cat.
The young man wondered what card his antagonists were preparing to play. He found out promptly when he ordered his swampers to advance with their axes and begin chopping down the trees on the right of way. At the first "chock" ringing out on the crisp silence of the woods Ward came running down the snowy stretch of tote-road, presenting much the same appearance as would an up reared and enraged polar bear. The lawyer hurried after him, and several woodsmen followed more leisurely.
"Not another chip from those trees! Not another chip!" bawled the colonel. The men stopped chopping and looked at each other doubtfully.
"We've been told to go ahead here," said the "boss."
"I don't care what yeh've been told. You all know me, don't you?" Ward slapped his breast. "You know me? Well, I say stop that chopping on my--understand?--on
my land."
Parker, who was in advance of the choppers with his instruments, heard, and came plowing through the snow. He found Colonel Ward roaring oaths and abuse, brandishing his fists, and backing the crew of a dozen men fairly off the right of way. Ward's own band of "Gideonites" stood at a little distance, grinning admiringly.
Parker set himself squarely in front of the old man, elbowing aside a woodsman to whom the colonel was addressing himself. The young engineer's gaze was level and determined.
"Colonel Ward," he said, "you are interfering with my men."
The answer was a wordless snarl of ire and contempt.
"There's no mistaking your disposition," continued Parker. "You have set yourself to balk this enterprise. But I haven't any time to spend in a quarrel with you."
"Then get off my land."
"Now, see here, Colonel Ward, you know as well as I that my principals have complied with all the provisions of law in taking this location. This road is going through. I am going to put it through."
"Talk back to me, will you? Talk to me! ni--I'll--" Ward's rage choked his utterance.
"Certainly I'll talk to you, sir, and I am perfectly qualified to boss my men. Go ahead there, boys!" he called.
"A moment, Mr. Parker," broke in the suave voice of the lawyer. "I see you don't understand the entire situation. Briefly, then, Mr. Ward has a telephone-line across this carry. You may see the wires from where you stand. I find that your right of way trespasses on Colonel Ward's telephone location. In this confusion of locations, you will see the advisability of suspending operations until the matter can be referred to the courts."
"There is room for Colonel Ward's telephone and for our railroad, too," he retorted. "If we are compelled to remove any poles, we'll replace them."
Of course Parker did not know that the telephone-line was, in fact, only Colonel Ward's private line, and after the taking by the railroad was on the location wholly without right. But that was a matter for his superiors, and not for him.
"Another point that I fear you have not noted. Colonel Ward's telephone wires are affixed to trees, and your men are preparing to cut down these same trees in clearing your right of way. You see it can't be done, Mr. Parker."
There was an unmistakable sneer in the lawyer's tones. Parker's anger mounted to his cheeks.
"I'm no lawyer," he cried, "but I have been assured by our counsel that I have the right to build a railroad here, and I reckon he knows! I've been told to build this railroad and, Mr. Attorney, I'm going to build it. I've been told to have it completed by a certain time, and I haven't days and weeks to spend splitting hairs in court."
"No, I see you're not much of a lawyer!" jeered the other. "Mr. Parker, you may as well take your plaything," pointing to the engine, "and trundle it along home."
"We'll see about that!" Parker snatched an ax from the nearest man. "Mr. Lawyer, you may
go back to the city and fight your legal points with the man my principals hire for that purpose, and enjoy yourself as much as you can. In the meantime I'll be building a railroad. Men, those trees are to come down at once." He began to hack at a tree with great vigor.
The choppers, encouraged by his firm attitude, promptly moved forward and began to use their axes.
"The club you must use, Colonel, is an injunction," advised the crestfallen lawyer after he had watched operations a few moments. Ward was swearing violently. "I'll have one here in twenty-four hours."
The irate lumberman whirled on his counsel.
"Get out of here!" he snarled. "Your injunction would prob'ly be like the law you've handed out here to-day. You said you'd stop him, but you haven't."
"There's no law for a fool!" snapped the attorney.
"Get along with your law!" roared Ward. "I was an idiot ever to fuss with it or depend on it. 'Tain't any good up here. 'Tain't the way for real men to fight. I've got somethin' better'n law."
He shook his fists at Parker. "Better'n law!" he repeated, in a shrill howl. "Better'n law!" he cried again. "And you'll get it, too."
At first the engineer believed that Ward was about to rally his little band at the carry camp, but the old man turned and stumped away. His lawyer tried to interpose and address him, but the colonel angrily shoved him to one side with such force that the attorney tumbled backward into the snow.
"Get out my horse!" the colonel screamed, as he advanced toward the camp.
A helper precipitately backed the turnout from the hovel. Ward leaped into the sleigh, pulled his peaked fur cap down over his ears, and took up the reins and big whip. He brandished his great fist at the little group he had just left.
"Better'n law!" he shouted again. "That for your law!" and he struck his rangy horse with a crack as loud as a pistol-shot.
The animal leaped like a deer, fairly lifting the narrow sleigh, and with tails fluttering from his fur robes, his cap's coon tail streaming behind, away up the tote-road went Gideon Ward on his return to the deep woods, the mighty din of his myriad bells clashing down the forest aisles. At the distant turn of the road he hooted with the vigor of a screech owl, "Better'n law!" and disappeared.
"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. "You are free to ride back with us when we go."
"No hard feelings, then?" asked the lawyer.
"I'm not small-minded, I trust," returned Parker. The lawyer looked at the self-possessed young man with pleased interest. This generous attitude appealed to him.
"Do you realize, young man," he inquired, "that old Gideon Ward never had a man really back him down before?"
"I don't know much about Colonel Ward personally, except that he has a very disagreeable disposition."
"You've made him just as near a maniac as a man can be and still go about his business. There'll be a lot of trouble come from this. Hadn't you better advise your folks to call it off? They haven't the least idea, I imagine, what a proposition you are up against."
"I shall keep on attending to my business," Parker replied. "If any one interferes with that business, he'll do so at his own risk."
"I am afraid you are depending too much on your legal rights and on the protection of the law. Now Gideon Ward has always made might right in this section. He is rough and ignorant, but the old scamp has a heap of money and a rich gang to back him. I tell you, there are a lot of things he can do to you, and then escape by using his money and his pull."
"From what I have seen of the old man's temper, I am prepared to put a pretty high estimate on his capacity for mischief; but on the other hand, Mr. Attorney, suppose I should go back to my people and say I allowed an old native up here in the woods to back me off our property? I fear my chances for promotion on the P. K, and R. system would get a blacker eye than I shall give him if he ever shakes his fist under my nose again. Have all the people up here allowed that old wretch to browbeat and tyrannize over them without a word of protest?"
"Oh, he has been whaled once or twice, but it never did him any good. For instance, a favorite trick of his is to make every one flounder out of a tote-road into the deep snow. He won't turn out an inch. Most of the men he meets are working for him or selling him goods, and they don't dare to complain. However, one teamster he crowded off in that way broke two ox-goads on the old man. But that whipping only set him against other travellers more than ever.
"Another time Ward got what he deserved down at Sunkhaze. A man opened a store there and put in a plate-glass window, being anxious to show a bit of progress. There's nothing old Ward hates so much as he does what he calls 'slingin' on airs,' When he drove down from the woods and saw that new window he growled, 'Wal, it seems to me we're gettin' blamed high-toned all of a sudden!' He got out, rooted up a big rock and hove it right through the middle of that new pane of glass the only pane of plate glass Sunkhaze ever saw. Well, the storeman tore out and licked Ward till he cried. Storeman didn't know who the old man was till after it was all over. Neither did old Gid know how big that storeman was till he saw him coming out through that broken glass. Otherwise both might have thought twice.
"Ward boycotted and persecuted him till he had to sell out and leave town. He has persecuted everybody. His wife has been in the insane asylum going on ten years; his only girl ran away and got married to a cheap fellow, and his son is in state prison. The boy ran away from home, got into bad company, and shot a policeman who was trying to arrest him. If you are not crazy or dead before he gets done with you, then you'll come out luckier than I think you will."
With this consoling remark the lawyer plodded up to the camp, to wait until it should be time to start down the lake.
As Parker toiled through the woods that day he reflected seriously on his situation. He fully appreciated the fact that Ward's malice intended some ugly retaliation. The danger viewed here in the woods and away from the usual protections of society seemed imminent and to be dreaded.
But the young man realized how skeptically Whittaker and Jerrard would view any such apprehensions as he might convey to them, reading his letter in the comfortable and matter-of-fact serenity of the city. He knew how impatient it made President Whittaker to be troubled with any subordinate's worry over details. His rule was to select the right man, say, "Let it be done," and then, after the manner of the modern financial wizard inspect the finished result and bestow blame or praise.
Parker regretfully concluded that he must keep his own counsel until some act more overt and ominous forced him to share his responsibility.
That evening, as he sat in his room at the tavern, busy with his first figures of the survey, some one knocked and entered at his call, "Come in!" _