Joan of Arc of the North Woods by Holman Day (list of e readers .txt) 📖

I'm here on my own account. I came north at my own expense without notifying Chief Mern that I was done with the agency; and strictly personal reasons, also, influenced me on that point." She was trying hard to keep her poise, not loosing her emotions, preserving her dignity with a man of affairs and phrasing her replies with rather stilted diction. "I have my good reasons for doing all I can in my poor power to help the Flagg drive go through."
The fact that her name was Kennard meant nothing to Rufus Craig, a New Yorker who had never bothered himself with the ancient tales of the Noda country. He did not understand what interest she could have in opposing the Comas company; he could see only the ordinary and sordid side of the affair. He looked her up and down and curled his lip.
"You have been a traitor!"
"Not to the right, sir, when I found out what the right was."
"I think you'll have a chance to say something about that in court, in your defense! You have put the devil into those men and I'm giving you warning."
"I shall tell the truth in court, Mr. Craig. You may or you may not find that promise a warning of my own to you and your corporation methods."
He blinked and looked away from her. "I'm busy! What are you doing here on this dam? What do you want of me? Is it more detective work?" he sneered. "Are you getting ready to double-cross the new gang you're hitched up with. For what reason you went over to 'em God only knows!"
"He does know!" she returned, earnestly. She stepped closer to him. "I came down here to plead that you'll let the Flagg logs go through this dam."
"I will not." His anger had driven him to the extreme of obstinacy.
"Mr. Craig, that stand means a wicked fight between men who are not paid to fight."
"You've had a lot of influence in making men blow our dams. Use that influence in keeping 'em away from this one, and there'll be no fight." He turned away, but she hastened forward and put herself in front of him.
"I cannot do it, sir! That will be asking our men to give up all they have been struggling for. I don't know what the law is--or what the law will say. Please listen to me! Keep the men from fighting--this season! Then allow the law to put matters right up here. The Flagg logs have gone down the river every year before this one. The good Lord has furnished the water for all. Mr. Craig, out of the depths of my heart I entreat you." She had tried hard to keep womanly weakness away. She wanted to conduct the affair on the plane of business good sense; but anxiety was overwhelming her; she broke down and sobbed frankly.
What appeared to be recourse to woman's usual weapons served to make him more furious. "The matter is before the courts. There's a principle involved. This dam stays as it is. That's final!"
"I'm pleading for a helpless old man who cannot come here to talk for his own rights."
"Look here, my girl, you're merely a smart trickster from the city--a turncoat who can't give one good excuse for being a traitor to your employers."
"I can give an excuse!"
"I've had enough of this," he retorted, brutally, pricked by the reflection that his corporation would disown him and his methods if he failed to make good. "Can't you see that you're driving me insane with your girl's folly? You're lucky because I haven't brought officers up here and ordered your arrest for conspiracy. You belong in jail along with that fool of a Latisan." His rage broke down all reserve. "Do you see what he did to me in New York?" He pointed to his bandaged face. "I'll admit that he did have some sort of an excuse. You have none."
"I have this," she said. "Mr. Craig! I am Echford Flagg's granddaughter."
The shell of his skepticism was too thick!
"Do you think I am a complete fool? Flagg has no kin whatever!"
"How long have you been acquainted in these parts?"
"Three years," he admitted; but he scowled his sentiment of utter disbelief in her claim.
"I am what I say I am," she insisted. "Does that make any difference in your stand here to-day?"
"Not a bit!"
They surveyed each other for some time, the mists swirling slowly about their heads.
"If I shed any more tears and do any more pleading, sir, you'll have good reasons for believing that I have no blood of the Flaggs in me! Do you still think I'm not what I say I am?"
He sliced the fog contemptuously with the edge of his palm. "You can't talk that stuff to me!" She understood the futility of appeal; he turned from her and she looked for a moment on the bulging scruff of his obstinate neck.
"Very well, Mr. Craig! If talk can't convince you, I'll try another way!"
She ran along the string piece and the curtain of the fog closed in behind her.
During her absence from the deadwater there had been a rallying of forces.
All the men were called in from the headworks and the booms. In that following conference over the methods of the impending battle the riverjacks were able to express themselves with more sanguinary vehemence than would have been allowed in the presence of the girl.
They felt that the fog was a particularly fortunate circumstance, and with grim haste they set about taking advantage of the mask that would hide their advance. In single file they began their march down the river shore. There were men who bore cant dogs; others were armed with pike poles. But there was no intent to cut and thrust. It was to be a man's fight with the flat of those weapons, with the tools of the job, honest thwacks given and taken. If one of them had ventured to pack an edged weapon or a gun he would have been shamed among his fellows.
Halfway to the dam they met the girl, hurrying back. She understood. She did not ask questions. But when they halted she explained her own movements.
"I took it on myself to go to Director Craig," she said. "I was hoping I might be able to make him look at the thing in the right way. I did not apologize for you or for what has been done. If I could prevent this trouble I would make any sacrifice of myself."
"We know that," stated Vittum, and he was indorsed by whole-souled murmurs.
"But he would not listen to me. And all I can say to you men is this: God bless you and help you!"
They thanked her and then they stood aside from the path, offering her a way for retreat to the rear.
But she turned and walked on toward the dam. She shook her head when they protested. "No, I claim it as my right to go with you." She was even brave enough to relieve the tenseness of the situation by a flash of humor. "I don't believe one of those Comas cowards will get near enough to hurt any one of you. Haven't we found them out already? But if anybody in this crew does get hurt, you'll find me in full charge of the field hospital!"
There was no more talk after that; they trod softly on the duff under the trees; they dodged the ledges where their spike-soled boots might have rasped.
"Did you note where the main bunch is, miss?" whispered the old man at her side.
"I saw only one man except Craig. The director was out on the dam, near the gates."
"Where the cap'n is, there the gang must be. We'll use that tip."
The men deployed as soon as they were in the open space near the end of the dam.
Even though they had had the protection of the fog up to that point, they knew their attack could not be made wholly a surprise; they were depending on their resoluteness and on being able to beat their way to a control of the gates.
Two men appeared to them in the fog.
"Now just a moment before you start something for which you'll be sorry," said one of the men. "I'm from the shire town and I'm attorney for the Comas corporation." He pointed to a man at his side, who pulled aside his coat lapel and exhibited a badge. "This is a deputy sheriff. The courts are protecting this property by an injunction."
"We've got only your word for that," stated the old man.
"You have been warned in law. That's all I'm here for. Now unless you keep off this property you must take the consequences."
The lawyer and the officer marched away and were effaced by the fog.
"It's too bad it ain't a clear day," remarked the spokesman to the crew. "We'd prob'ly be able to see the injunction that's guarding this dam. But I ain't going to let a lawyer tell me about anything I can't see."
"But there's a thing I can see," called one of the men who had gone skirmishing in the direction which the attorney and sheriff had taken. "Here's a Comas crowd strung along the wings o' the dam. I can see what they're lugging! Come on, men! It's a cant-dog, pick-pole fight."
The attackers went into the fray with a yell.
The defenders of the dam were on higher ground; some of them thrust with the ugly weapons, others swung the strong staves and fenced. There was the smash of wood against wood, the clatter of iron. Men fell and rolled and came up! They who were bleeding did not seem to mind.
"They're backing up," yelled one of the Flagg crew. "Damn 'em, they're getting ready to run, as usual!"
There did seem to be some sort of concerted action of retreat on the part of the defenders.
"Look out for tricks," counseled Vittum, getting over the guard of an antagonist and felling him.
A few moments later the line of the defense melted; the Comas men dodged somewhere into the fog. The assailants had won to the higher level of the dam's wing.
And then that level melted, too!
It was a well-contrived trap--boards covered with earth--a surface supported by props which had been pulled away by ropes. More than half the Flagg men tumbled into deep and muddy water and threshed helplessly in a struggling mass until the others laid down their weapons and pulled the drowning men out.
The attacking army retired for repairs and grouped on the solid shore. Except for the roar of the sluiceway and the gasping of the men who were getting breath there was something like calm after the uproar of the battle.
Out of the fog sounded the voice of Director Craig.
"We have given you your chance to show how you respect the law. What you have done after a legal warning is chalked up against you. Now that you have proclaimed yourselves as outlaws I have something of my own to proclaim to you. I am up here----"
A stentorian voice slashed in sharply, and Craig's speech was cut off.
The voice came from one who was veiled in the fog, but they all knew it for Ward Latisan's. "Yes, Craig, you're here--here about five hours ahead of me because you had the cash to hire a special train. However, I know the short cuts for a man on horseback. I'm here, too!"
His men got a dim view of him in the mists; he loomed like a statue of heroic size on the horse. Then he flung himself