On a fine-weather basis they planned the work. In the morning they went at it again. Before noon the tow-boats returned, the long booms trailing behind them. Their tows had been emptied down the rapids, and a small crew was seeing them safe into Wismer & Holden’s booms.
Late in the afternoon a launch—a flying thing of spotless paint, burnished brass, and throbbing engines—split the lake. A wall of water fell away on either side of her shearing stem, and the white kick of her wake streamed out behind like a giant ribbon. She slowed and swung daintily up to the dingy Sophie Green. In her sat William Crooks and his daughter.
“Hello, Joe!” roared the veteran lumberman. “Hello, Jimmy!” to Captain Congdon. “Throw down a ladder or something. We want to come aboard.”
They came aboard, and the very spick-and-span young man who owned the launch looked doubtfully at the other young man in the flannel shirt, short trousers, and spiked boots, who was on such enviable terms with pretty little Miss Crooks.
“How’s she comin’?” Crooks demanded, and Joe told him. “I got twenty boys off my drive on the way to give you a boost,” the old lumberman continued. “We’ll show these fellows a thing or two about sweepin’ up logs. Jimmy, my girl and I are going to camp down on this old tub of yours till the last log’s out of the lake. Got room for us?”
“You bet I have, Bill,” replied Congdon, “Miss Jack, you take my quarters.”
“Couldn’t think of it, thank you, Captain Congdon,” said Jack promptly. “I wouldn’t put you out for the world.”
“Mutiny, by the Lord!” shouted Captain Jimmy. “Young woman, I’m a bachelor, and used to having my own way. I get awful mean and cranky when I’m opposed. It’d be just like me to refuse to tow a single blame log if you don’t obey orders.”
“Aye, aye, sir!” said Jack. “Any more orders, sir?”
“Only that you’re to ask for what you want if you don’t see it,” said Captain Jimmy, grinning.