He could not
seize the thought, but its influence was there. Somehow the irritation
and exasperation had gone from the episode.
"I know that sort of crazy old mossback," muttered Welton as he turned
down the mountain. "Pin a tin star on them and they think they're as
important as hell!"
Bob looked back.
"I don't know," he said vaguely. "I'm kind of for that old coon."
The bend shut him out. After the buckboard had dipped into the horseshoe
and out to the next point, they again looked back. The smoke of marching
rose above the trees to eddy lazily up the mountain. California John, a
tiny figure now, still sat patiently guarding the portals of an empty
duty.
VII
Bob and Welton left the buckboard at Sycamore Flats and rode up to the
mill by a detour. There they plunged into active work. The labour of
getting the new enterprise under way proved to be tremendous. A very
competent woods foreman, named Post, was in charge of the actual
logging, so Welton gave his undivided attention to the mill work. All
day the huge peeled timbers slid and creaked along the greased slides,
dragged mightily by a straining wire cable that snapped and swung
dangerously.
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