Harrisburg telegraph. [volume] (Harrisburg, Pa.) 1879-1948, 1917-09-03
BIG
TIMBER
By
BERTRAND w.
SINCLAIR
Copyright. 1916, by Little. Brown
E Co,

S1NoISIS
Estella Benton, left a penniless
orphan, goes to join her brother
Charlie, who is logging lumber in
British Columbia.
(Continued)
She went back to the hotel. But
St. Allwoods in it's duel capacity OF
health and pleasure resort was a
gilded shell, making a brave out
ward show, but capitalizing chiefly
lake, mountain and hot mineral
springs. Her room was a bare,
cheerless place. She did not want
to sit and ponder. Too much real
grief hovered in the immediate back
ground of her life. 1t was not al
ways sufficient to be young and
alive. To sit still and think-that
way lay tears and dependency. So
she went out and walked down tho
road and out upon the warf which
jutted 200 yards into the lake.
After a time she retracted her
steps. Nearing the halfway slip, she
saw that a wagon from which goods
were being unloaded blocked the
away. A dozen men were springing in
from the road, bearing bundles and
bags and rolls of blankets. They
were big, burly men, carrying them
selves with a reckless swing, with
trousers cut off midway between
knee and ankle so that they reached
Just below the upper of their high
topped, heavy laced boots. Two or
three were sinking. All appeared
unduly happy, talking loudly, with
deep laughter. One threw down
his burden and executed a brief
clog. Splinters flew where the sharp
calks bit into the wharf planking,
and his companions applauded.
It dawned upon Stella Benton that
these might be Jack Fyfe's drunken
Ioggers, and she withdrew until the
way should be clear, vitality in
terested because her brother was a
logging man, and wondering if these
were the human tools he used in
his business, If these were the sort
of men with whom he associated
They were a rough lot, and some
were very drunk. With the mani
festations of liquor she had but the
most shadowy acquaintance, but she
would have been little less than g
fool not to comprehend this.
Then they began filing down the
gangway to the boats deck. One
slipped and came near falling into
the water, whereat his fellows
howled gleefully. Precariously they
negotiated the slanting passage, all
but one. He sat him down at the
slip head on his bundle and began
a quavering chant.
The wagon backed out, and the
way was clear save for the logger
sitting on his blankets, wailing his
ha1 hi
fellows urged him to come along. A
bell changed in the pilot house. The
exhaust of a gas engine began tC
sputter through the boats side. From
her after deck a man hailed the
logger sharply, and when his cal
was unheeded he ran lightly up the
slip. A short, squarely built mar
he was, as light on his feet as 6
dancing master.
Hurry aboard, Mike; we're wait.
ing!" he said impatiently.
The logger rose, waved his hand
airily and turned as if to retreat
down the wharf. The other caught
him by the arm and spun him face
to the slip.
Come on, Slater" he said evenly
81 have no time to fool around"
The logger drew back his fist. He
was a fairly big man. But If he
had in mind to deal blow it failed
for the other ducked and caught
him with both arms around the
middle. He lifted the logger clear
of the wharf, hoisted him to the
level of his breast and heaved hin
down the slip as one would throw
a sack of bran.
The mans body bounced on the
incline, rolled, slid, tumbled till al
length he brough up against the
boats guard, and all that saved him
a ducking was the prompt extension
of several stout arms, which clutchec
and hauled him to the flush after
deck. He sat on his launches
blinking. Then he laughed. So die