Part 12 (1/2)

”Aha, my bantam!” he growled.

Parker braced himself to meet a blow. He felt that the giant would now take satisfactory vengeance for the discomfiture he had suffered before his men at Sunkhaze. Connick raised his hand, that in its big mitten seemed like a cloud against the moon, and brought it down. The young man gathered himself apprehensively, but the expected a.s.sault was merely a slap on his shoulder--a slap with such an unmistakable air of friendliness about it that Parker gazed up into the man's face with astonishment. Now he was to experience his first taste of the rude chivalry of the woods, a chivalry often based on sudden whim, but none the less sincere and manly--a chivalry of which he was to have further queer experience.

”My bantam,” said the big man, admiringly, ”faith, but that was a tidy bito' footwork ye done down at Sunkhaze.” Good-humored grins and rueful scowls chased one another over his face, according as he patted Parker's back or rubbed the b.u.mp on his own head. ”Sure, there's a big k.n.o.b there, my boy. There's only one thing that's harder than your fist, an'

that's Spinnaker ice.”

Parker attempted some embarra.s.sed reply in way of apology, for this magnanimity of his foe touched him. The giant put up a protesting hand.

”Ye sartin done it good, my little man, an' I'm glad to know ye better.

But Colonel Gid Ward, sure he lied about ye, or I'd never called ye names at Sunkhaze.”

”You didn't expect that man to tell the truth about me, did you?” Parker demanded.

”Why, he said ye was a little white-livered sneak that wouldn't dare to put up your hands to a Sunkhaze mosquito of the June breed, an' that ye were tryin' to come in here an' do business amongst real men. I couldn't stand that, I couldn't!”

”But my business--my reasons for being here--my responsibilities!” cried Parker. ”I see he must have lied about that part of it.”

”Ah, I don't know anything about your business, nor care!” Connick growled. ”I only know there's something about a Poquette railro'd in it. But all that's between you and Gid Ward. You can talk that over with him.”

”Do you mean to tell me that you and your men have destroyed that railroad property without having any special grudge against the project?”

”Why, railro'ds ain't any of our business,” the giant replied, with his eyes wide open and frank.

”What are you--slaves?” Parker cried, angrily. In addition to his lesson in woods' thivalry he was getting education regarding the irresponsibility of these unconventional children of the wild lands.

The taunt did not seem to anger the men.

”This railro'd is Gid Ward's business,” said Connick. ”We work for Gid Ward, He owns the Poquette land, don't he? He said he didn't want any railro'd there. He told us to come down an' dump the thing. We come down, of course it's been dumped. You can fix that with him. But you're a good little fighter, my man. He didn't tell the truth about you.”

The young man groaned. The ethics of the woods were growing more opaque to his understanding.

”I'll introduce myself more formal,” said the woodsman, apparently with affable intent to be better acquainted with this young man who had shown that he possessed the qualities admired in the forest. ”My name is Dan Connick, and these here are my hearties from Number 7 cuttin'.” He waved his hand, and the nearest men growled good-humored greetings.

”Well, Mr. Connick,” said Parker, dryly, ”I thank you for the evening's entertainment, and now that you have done your duty to Colonel Ward I suppose I may return to Sunkhaze.” His heart sank as he thought of the poor Swogon weltering in the depths of the lake.

”Oh, ye've got to come along with us!” beamed Connick. ”Colonel Ward has sent for ye!”

CHAPTER NINE--UP THE WINDING WAY TO THE ”OGRE OF THE BIG WOODS.”

”I have no further business with Colonel Ward at this time,” protested Parker, amazed at Connick's refusal to release him. ”Wal, he says you have, an' them's our orders. The men that work for Gid Ward have to obey orders.”

”Your Colonel Ward has already injured me enough,” exclaimed Parker, bitterly, ”without dragging me away into the woods fifty or a hundred miles from my duty! I'll not see any more of him.”

”Oh, but ye will, tho!” Connick was grinning, but under his amiability his tones were decisive. ”I don't know what he wants to talk with you about, but I reckon it's railroad. We here can't do that with ye. So ye'll have to come along. But we all think you're a smart little man.

Ain't that so, hearties?”

The men growled gruff a.s.sent.

”Ye see, ye're pop'lar with us,” Connick went on. ”Ye can be as friendly with us as tho we was your brothers, but ye don't want to try any shenanigan trick like dodgin' away. We've been told to take you to Number 7 camp, and to that camp ye're goin'. So understandin' that we'll move. There's a snack waitin' here for us at the carry camp, and then for the uptrail.” The men moved along, taking Parker with them in the center of the group.