Plentywood herald. [volume] (Plentywood, Mont.) 1908-current, 1933-02-02

The tow-team was liberated for the
haul: each sleigh was able to move an
extra thousand a day costs were cut.
Baiiy the size of the decks at the
new landing increased; log production
was stepping up a fundamental short
coming was being overcome, and as he
stood on the third afternoon following
the initiation of his new plan, John
muttered tightly.
:" see what I'm wound On,
Toni See what I'm wound on, yetw
Yes. the Richards operation had new
life, new yigor as long as John had his
fingers on each phase, but a man can't
be in more than place ut a time:
each day has only its allotted hours.
He had had the train crew with him
from the beginning and did not need
TO worry about getting the best out of
what equipment he had there. Tucker,
the roadmaster, was spry enough,
enough, 1t seemed, but there
/ were times when John felt that he
could not wholly trust the man. Moth
ing he could put his finger on; no
delinquency he could point out. Just
intuitive distrust.
He won Jack TAFT. the barn boss.
as a stalwart friend by sitting up
through one bitter night to help min
lister to a sick horse. The horse died,
but its distress had not been Johns
primary motive In going without sleep.
He needed the staunch support of his
men. as any executive needs the faith
and loyalty of those at his command.
No business viii succeed unless di-
visional heads are behind the manage
ment heart and soul the backbone of
an army is its non-coms.
But the uphill pull commenced to
sheW progress. Forty thousand n day,
John must put to the mill to keep the
band-saw fed. He began to do better
than this: by holiday time the reserve
deeked in the yard had crept up a
trifle; q two-day cut was there, wait
ing for an emergency a three, enough
for four days.
Not time. yet, for a long breath, but
time to let yourself hope a trifle.
show you what I'm wound
on" he growled between set teeth as
he watched a load going on to the
deck instead OF directly into the hot
pond.
Not time. yet, for a long breath,
though. The night Waterman at the
mill reported that In making his
rounds an unidentified skulker had run
out of the locomotive stall. A wrench
was found. dropped in the doorway,
and John put on a special man to
guard Tiny's old relic. their only hope.
Three days later. running for one of
the stiff grades with four loads Of logs
bound for Kampfest, Tiny Temple
looked back to see q car leave the
rails. to see the splintered ends of
ties pop up through the snow, to see
the car take the ditch and go over be-
fore he could stop.
Wrecking tools were In Snoestring,
and 1t was necessary to make the run
In for jacks and replacers. They got
the car back on and the track repaired,
but a day was lost and the margin OF
safety for the mill shrank instead of
growing.
Way-Bill and Tiny came to John.
"A brake-beam on that card been
monkeyed with" the conductor said.
you could see the fresh wrench marks
on the nuts"
what do you make OF that?"
'1They know we're dom too we'll.
Fixed TO spill us to make trouble.
They care a d-n about getting their
logs mnyedi- The Kampfest yards
full. and If we keep on the main line
won't be able to clean out the switches
at the crossing. More dirty work !"
John called Tucker into the confer
ence, but the roadmaster smiled and
shook his head doubtfully.
FAIRY story" he said. aYou
couldn't tell within two weeks when
that beam'd been repaired"
Nay-BiIl spat and big Tiny eyed
Tucker with a look that was not lust
pleasant. John wondered, feeling q
bit uneasy. Thereafter. he kept wreck
ing equipment in the way-car.
And now Gorbel's men commenced
dumping at two landings, which meant
that ii would be necessary to spot two
strings of empties daily, more minutes
taken from the time of Ellen's train
crew. A mar must take Ii and grin.
though. John knew that he had read
the old contract by which Richards
agreed to transport those logs.
TO BE coNTINuED.)
49,. -