“Come along, Tobin,” Joe ordered. “We’re wasting time. You won’t reconsider my offer, Archer?”
“No,” replied Archer flatly, “I won’t. I have the right-of-way, and I’ll keep it.”
The way he intended to keep it immediately became apparent. His drive travelled with maddening slowness. His rear crew made great pretence of working, but the feint was transparent and the tempers of Kent’s men wore under the strain. One or two fights took place, more or less indecisive. Clearly a climax was at hand.
Joe took counsel with his foremen, and they threshed the matter out one night sitting around the fire. It was plain that as long as Clancys’ drive kept ahead they could make no speed. Much time had already been lost. They could not pass it on the river, and Archer would not yield his right-of-way at Moore’s Rapids. It looked like an impasse. It was quiet Deever who suggested the only way out. Deever usually had little to say. The reverse of Tobin, he was slow to anger, but knew no limit when aroused, as unruly lumber jacks found to their cost. He was rather small of frame, but built of wires and steel springs.
“If we run our drive right on top of them and mix the logs we’ll make better time than we’re making now,” said he. “Then we sack out our own, and they can bring theirs along or not, as they like. There’s sortin’ booms at Moore’s, and we’ve a strong crew, just spoilin’ for a scrap. If we take charge an’ cull out all Clancys’ logs, why, then we get ahead. It just means a little fight.”
The foremen looked at each other and nodded. Then they looked at Joe. “It sounds good,” said he. “Of course, we haven’t any right to do it.”
“Not a right,” said MacNutt cheerfully, “but we’ve got a blame good crew.”
Joe laughed. “Go to it, then,” said he. “Slam the whole drive down on top of them as soon as you can.”
The speed of a drive depends upon the work of the crew, for although logs can travel no faster than the current the more that are kept in the current the faster the whole will travel. Kent’s men sailed into the work like demons. No log had a chance to rest. Soon the two drives tangled and became one, although naturally Clancys’ leading logs were far in advance of Kent’s. The latter’s crew left the other logs religiously alone, but Clancys’ men soon began to shove Kent’s logs toward the shallows.
“Leave them logs alone!” roared Big Cooley savagely, detecting a man in the act. The man swore back at him defiantly and shoved another log shoreward. Cooley jumped from the log on which he stood, alighting on the one ridden by the offender, and knocked him into the water.