The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1905-01-08

!
| rne cook, a thin faced, sly man,
with penchant for a sporting per.
! secretly admired HIM.
! Like out for tn Rough Red: he'll
| 10 YET he would whisper hoarsely
| when he ,,assed the silent scaler.
| But in the three days the Rough
| Red put his men to work on a little
| cabin. Fitz Patrick at once took his
scaling rule from the corner and set
| Jut MO. the forest
His business was. by measuring the
diameter OF eacil log. TO ascertain and
| .abulate the number Of board feet put
| n by the contractor. On the basis OF
his single report James Bourke would
DE paid for the seasons work Inev-
itably he at once became James
Bourkes natural enemy and so Of
every man III the crew with the pos
ible exception of the cook.
Fitz Patrick scaled honestly, for he
was a Just man, but exactitude and OPP
imism of estimate never have approx
ina ted. and they did not in this case
fhe Rough Red grumbled, accused,
swore. threatened. Fitz Patrick smoH-
ed Peerless" and said nothing. Still,
1t was not pleasant fC.i him, alone
there in the dark wilderness fifty miles
from the nearest settlement, without
j human being with whom to eX-
.hange friendly word.
over the methods of cutting. The
Rough Red and his crew cut any
where. everywhere, anyhowS-The east
EST Way was theirs. Small timber they
skipped, large timber they sawed high
ops they left rather than trim them
into logs. Fitz Patrick would not
nave the pine slaughtered.
yell bend your backs a little, jim
my Bourke,'' said he. land cut IN
stumps lower to tn ground. There's
bunch of shingles at least in every
stump we've left. And you must saw
;traighter And tn contract calls for
eight inches and over, mind We that.
Don't go to skippin' tn little ones be
cause they won't scale We high. lis
in the contract so. And l won't have
III tops left. There's many good
log in them, an We trim them fair
and clean.
Go to hell, you --" shouted the
Rough Red. Where the blazes ala
We learn so much of loggin'? | log tn
way me father logged. an I'm nor TO
be taught by high-banker from I'll
Muskegon!
Never would he acknowledge the
wrong nor promise the improvement,
but both were there, and both ne ana
Fitz Patrick knew it. The Rough
Red chafed frightfully, but in way
his hands were tied. He could 90
too far out to send for another scaier
even if Daily would have given nm
one.
FINALLY. in looking over a skidway,
he noticed that one log had not Deen
blue-penciled across the end. Ihat
meant that it had not been scared
and that in turn meant that he, the
Rough Red, would not be paid for ms
labor i'm cutting and banking 1t. a,
nnca he began to below through the
woods.
Hey! Fitz Patrick! Come here, you
thanked -blanked- blank OF Drank
Come here.
The soaler swung leisurly down me
travov traiil and fronted the other with
level eyes.
Weir" said he.
..Why ain't that log marked
Il culled it.
Amt it sound and good? Is there
mark on it? y streak of punk or
rot? Amt it good timber? What IN
blanks tn matter with it? You trieo
to do me out of that, you plank
skunk!
A log is culled, or thrown out. when
for any reason it will not make good
timber.
"Fll tell you. Jimmy Bourke, re-
piled Fitz Patrick calmly. TN SUCK
is sound and good, or was before your
murderin crew got hold of it. but II
veil take a squint at the butt of IT,
ven see that your gang has sawed
her on a six-inch slant. They've
wasted q good fot of tn log. | spoke
of that afore: an now / give we war
MIN that ! Gull every log. big or little, |
punk or sound, that amt sawed |
square and true across tn butt.
9Th log is sound an good, an vel
scale it, or FL know tn reason why!
"; Dot i.ly
The following day he cuiled log |
in another and distant skidway whose |
butt showed a slant of good six inches.
The day following he culled another
of the same sort on still another skid |
way. He examined it closely, then
sought the Rough Red.
1T is useless Jimmy Bourke, SAID
he. ito be hauling of that same poor
log from skidway to skidway. You
can shift her to every travoy trail in
TIL Crothers tract. but it will do We
little good. I'll Gull it wherever
find it, and never will We get tn scale |
of that log.
The Rough Red raised his hand. |
len dropped is again, whirled away |
it'll a curse, whirled back With an
her, and spat out:
"By --, FitZ Patrick. We go too
r. we've bounded me and harrled |
through III WODuS ali III SCt'i |
- It's agood stick an We shall |
ale it, /
..Yo' an yore Old Fellows is rob- |
ers alike" cried out one of the men. |
Fltz Patrick turned on his heel
nd resumed his work. The men
eased theirs and began to talk.
The night was Christmas Eve. After |
upper the Rough Red went directly |
ON the cook camp to the mems
amp. Fitz Patrick, sitting lonely in
ne little office, heard the sounds oil
ebauch rising steadily like mysterious
torn winds in distant pines. lie
hrugged his shoulders, and Tailed his
avs scaling. and turned into his bunk |
yearily. for of holidays there is none
the woods save Sunday. About
Midnight some one came in. FftZ
'atrick, reused from his sleep by
Unless blunderings, struck light, |
nd saw the cook looking uncertain
toward him through blood-clotted
ashes. The man was partly drunk.
,artly hurt, but more frightened.
"They's too big fer me, too big fel
ne" he repeated thickly.
Fitz Patrick kicked aside the blank
It's and set foot on the floor.
LIE me stay pleaded the cook,
Il won't bother you; / won't even