The Connecticut labor press., 1920-01-03

two looked up as the buggy ap preached, and the short man scowled
 This is Mir. Leblanc" said Lafe "Mr. Leblanc, this is MT. Askew. thu owner"
 Leblanc put out his hand Imply, bu Hilary, nettled by his manner. did no take 1t.
 MT. Leblanc is clearing a camp fol his next years lease" continued Lafe
 But the lease Is not signed?" asked Hilary.
 Tt will be signed in October" an swered Leblanc. "I have ;. arrange with Monsieur Morris"
 You'll make your arrangement with me in future," said Hilary. "I1 the price is satisfactory, you can have this tract"
 Leblanc stared at him insolently with his good eye, the other fixing 6 tree on Hilary's right. "I work foI MT. Morris. make arrange with him, he answered.
 'See here, Leblanc, you didn't catch who this gentleman is." said Lafe This is MT. Askew, the nephew o1 SAAN AO(C AAAAs 0ShC"s A4C AAoS SOA1S AAIS the property. He's boss. You get me- don't you, Leblanc?"
 Leblanc shrugged his shoulders "Oh, yes, understand" he answered, and. turning without another word walked back toward the lumbermen, accompanied by the short man, who was chuckling maliciously at Hilary's discontinue.
 Hilary flushed, but Lafe laid his hand on his wrist, closing the fingers about it with a viselike grip.
 Steady, MT. Askew. Don't let those fellows get you riled," he said. eff you're coming into this game it means steady work. You've got to hold back and hold back, until you've got things ready"
 They re-entered the buggy and, turn ing the horse, drove back.
 Presently Hilary cooled down. "Who was the little man?" he asked.
 That's Pierre something-or-other. Black Pierre, he's called. He's Brous- seau's chief crook. He's a trouble some man, MT. Hilary. He'll bear watching'
 ''Well fire him first thing" said Hill ary.
 Why, he ain't hired by us," an- swered Lafe.
 '"Then what in thunder is he doing on my concession, talking to my chief jobber?"
 ''Well, there ain't no law against it," said Lafe, with a humorous look It. pretty thick together.
 You see, Mir. Askew, it's this way" he went on. If you're going to clear up this mess, it ain't a bit of good going for the little fellows. They're the tail that Brousseau wags. Once you get Brousseau's hand out of your pie, the others follow him. When Pierre sees there ain't no more pick ings out of the St. BOniface land he'll go back to the smuggling business" "Brandy-smuggling?"
 ''Why, he's the bad man of Ste. Ma rie. He runs cargoes of gin and brandy ashore from the south coast, and there's never been a revenue officer in this district within human memory, nor would one dare to show his face here. Say, I'll take you through Ste. Marie 0n the way back to the mill! '"
 They had reached the main road again; they went on little way and then turned westward over a rough track through a burned-over district iensely covered with fireweed and white starved asters. Soon another fig appeared before them, topping the ill. Lafe pulled in as it approached.
 "Bonjour, Father Lucy" he called o the elderly priest, who sat inside. This gentleman is MT. Askew, the new 'wner of the Rosny concession. He's 'ld NIT. Askew's nephew"
 The cure looked Hilary over, then le leaned forward and extended his | land, which Hilary grasped.
 II am please to meet you, Mir. As | ;ew}" he said. 'I 'ope we shall be- | ome friens, like MT. Lafe here, an not | uarrel so much"
 "Ah, Father Lucy, you make me tired ] said Lafe. What in thun- er's the use of praying for rain when he forests are burning instead of citing busy and putting out the fire?"
 MT. Lafe, there is many thing you O not understand" said the cure, pat ing the Yankee on the shoulder be- evolently. MT. Lafe is fine fellow" e added to Hilary, "but he want to go % quick all the time'
 It was evident to Hilary that the wO were fast friends. Father Lucien tucked to his pony, took off his hat 7ith flourish, and resumed his jour- ey.
 Father Lucy's a good sort" nut cred Lafe, "but he makes me tired ometimes. Slow as the devil, Mir. skew. And yet, now I come to think f it, he does get results in his own inc. He ain't equal to cleaning up te. Marie, though"
 After a pause he added: Some ines I've thought that Father Lucy ad something up his sleeve about Ste. larie after all."
 An hours drive brought them within ght of the village. Ste. Marie was Imost a replica of St. BOniface ex- arnally, with the same shackS, clus- cred about the brick offices of the 
 Not much to see now" said Lafe. But on pay night it's fierce, MT. As ew. I guess this place is real he'll" "Rowdy, Cornell, you mean?"