ITH the breaking of the big jam the luck of the drive seemed to change. The river was rising, the water was good, the logs travelled freely day and night without halt. Indeed, the delays seemed about to prove blessings in disguise, for other firms' drives, more fortunate, would be out of the way. Also when they reached the lower almost currentless stretches of the river, down which the logs would have to be towed in booms by steamers, there would be no delay. But these calculations were upset one day when they got news of a drive just ahead of them.
Straightway Tobin and Joe went down to see about it. Sure enough there was a drive, and as he looked at the end of a stranded log the foremen swore indignantly, for on it was stamped the “CB” of Clancy Brothers.
“It's their drive from Basket Lake,” said Tobin. “They should have had it down three weeks gone.” As they passed downstream he called Joe's attention to the rear crew. “Look at that. See 'em sojerin' on the job. They're loafin', every mother's son of them, and they've a stronger crew than they need, too.”
They found Clancys' river-boss, Tom Archer by name, smoking a pipe and watching the indolent efforts of half a dozen men who were not even pretending to hustle.
“I thought you would have been down long ago,” said Tobin. “Our drive is right behind, and we'll be bumping your rear to-morrow if you don't get some ginger into your crew.”
“They're a lazy bunch,” said Archer without the flicker of an eyelid. “I just have to do the best I can with them. I've cursed them till my throat went back on me.”
Tobin regarded him narrowly. “Let me handle them for twenty-four hours and I'll show you a difference.”
“Thanks, but I can run my job myself,” said Archer dryly.
“The point is,” Joe explained, “that my drive is coming down a-humping, and we need all our time because we have a delivery contract to fill. Can you keep ahead of us, do you think?”
“Couldn't say,” returned Archer.
“I don't want to run down on top of you,” said Joe. “How would it be if I turned a dozen men into your rear to lend a hand?”
Archer regarded him in silence for a ten-second interval. “When I need your help, bub, I'll ask for it.”
“I didn't mean it that way,” Joe explained. “I don't suppose you want to delay me. It's about four days to Moore's Rapids. Will you oblige me by booming there till I get through? Of course I'll pay for the time of your crew.”
“No,” Archer replied. “I have my rights on the river and I don't have to get out of your way. You can tail along behind me.”
“The hell we can!” flared Tobin, whose temper was always set on a hair-trigger. “Do you think we ain't onto you, Archer. What's Clancys payin' you for doin' their dirty work?”
Archer put his pipe in his pocket with deliberation. “Any more talk like that, Tobin, and you and me will settle it right here,” he announced.
Tobin, nowise loath, would have accepted the challenge instantly, but Joe restrained him and pointed to a man who appeared on the bank.
“It's quite plain what this gentleman is up to, Tobin. There's Rough Shan McCane. I guess any more talk is waste time.”
McCane sprang down like a cat and advanced truculently. “Tom,” said he to Archer, “I'm going to give this young feller a father of a lickin' an' put the boots to him afterward. You look after the other one.”
Joe did not assume any attitude popularly supposed to be one of defence, but the bunched shoulder muscles crept and crawled beneath his shirt, and Archer, eying him carefully, interposed a decided negative.
“No, you won't. I don't want any trouble with Mr. Kent or his crew. If they crowd us it'll be different.”
“It'll be a lot different,” said Tobin. “You're McCane, are you? I've heard of your doin's this winter. You've got it comin' to you, me buck, tie into that.”
Then and there hostilities would have started but for Joe and Archer, who kept cool. Tobin and McCane growled at each other like leashed fighting-dogs.
“Come along, Tobin,” Joe ordered. “We're wasting time. You won't reconsider my offer, Archer?”
“No,” replied Archer flatly, “I won't. I have the right-of-way, and I'll keep it.”
The way he intended to keep it immediately became apparent. His drive travelled with maddening slowness. His rear crew made great pretence of working, but the feint was transparent and the tempers of Kent's men wore under the strain. One or two fights took place, more or less indecisive. Clearly a climax was at hand.