Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1910-08-27
CHAPTER XXI.

CHAPTER XXI.
A Hand In the Dark.
While they were talking tug-boat
towing pile-driver came into view.
Boyd asked the meaning of it's pres
ence in this part of the river.
81 don't know" answered Big
George, staring intently. "Yonder
looks like another one behind it, with
a raft of piles"
81 thought all the Company traps
We're upstream
$50 they are. can't tell what
they're up to-"
A half-hour later when the new flo
tilla had come to anchor short dis
lance below, Emerson's companion
began to swear.
81 might have known it,
"What?"
Marsh aims to cork u.s."
What is that?"
Hes going to build trap on each
side of this one and cut off our fish,"
Good Lord! Can he do that?"
Sure. Why not? The law gives us
six hundred yards both ways AS long
as he stays outside Of that limit he
can do anything he wants to-
Then of what use is our trap? The
salmon follow definite courses close
to the shore and If he fntercepts them
before they reach us-why, then we'll
get only what he let's through"
That's his plan,' said Big George,
sourly. ITS an old game, but it don't
always work. I've studied this point Of
land for five years, and know more
about 1t than anybody else except God
'lmighty. II the fish hug the shore,
then we're up against it, but think
they strike in about here; that's why
chose this site. We can't tell, though,
till the run starts, All we can do now Is
see that them people keep their dis
tance." sl3
The lead" Of a salmon trap consists
OF row Of webbing piling that runs
out from the shore for many hundred
feet, forming high, stout fence that
turns the schools of fish and leads
them into cunningly contrived en-
closures, or pounds" at the outer ex-
tremity, from which they are
"brailed" as needed. These corrals are
50 built that once the fish are inside
they cannot escape. The entire struc-
ture is devised upon the principle
turn, but will swim as nearly as pos
sible in straight line. 1t looked to
Boyd as II Marsh, by blocking the line
Of progress above and below, had vir-
tually destroyed the efficiency Of the
new trap, rendering the cost of its
construction a total loss.
Sometimes you can cork trap and
sometimes you can't Bait went on.
1T all depends on the currents, the
lay Of the bars, and lot Of things we
don't know nothing about. I've spent
years in trying to locate the point
where them fish strike in, and l think
it's just below here. 1t all depends on
how good I guessed"
Exactly! And if you guessed
wrong"
Then we'll fish with nets, like We
used to before there was any traps
That evening, when he had seen the
night-shift started, Emerson decided t.
walk up to Cherry's house, for he was
worried over the days developments
and felt that an hour of the girls so.
ciety might serve to clear his thoughts.
His nerves were high-strung from the
tension of the past weeks, and he
knew himself in the condition of an
athlete trained to the minute. In his
earlier days he had frequently felt
the same nervousness, the same in
tense mental activity just prior to an
important race or game, and he was
familiar with those disquieting, pan
icky moments when, for no apparent
reason, his heart thumped and physi-
cal sickness mastered him. He knew
81 H. 1T
the salmon began to run, just as T. had
always vanished at the crack Of the
starters pistol or the shril note Uf the
referees whistle. He was eager for
action, eager to find himself possessed
of that gloating, gruelling fury that
drives men through the finish line.
Meanwhile, he was anxious to divert
his mind into other channels.
Cherry's house was situated u short
distance above the cannery which
served as Willis Marsh's headquarters
and Boyd's path necessarily took him
past his. enemy's stronghold. Finding
the tide too high to permit Of passing
beneath the dock, he turned up among
the buildings, where, to his surprise,
he encountered his own day-foreman
talking earnestly with a stranger.
The fisherman started guiltily as he
saw him, and Boyd questioned him,
sharply:
''What are you doing here, Lar
SEM"
81 just walked up after supper to
have a talk with an old mate"
"Who is he?" Boyd glanced suspic-
iously at Larsens companion.
"He's Mr.. Marsh's foreman"
Emerson spoke out bluntly: 'See
here. don't like this. These people
have caused me lot of trouble al
ready, and 1 don't want my men hang
ing around here"
ooh, that's all right" said Larsen,
carelessly. Him and me used to fish
together" And as if this were a suifi-