“Shut up an’ listen to him, now!”
“Mr. Kent, an’ Miss Crooks an’ Mister Crooks,” began Haggarty, and paused. More growls of encouragement. “I’m no speaker, but the boys wants me to tell ye something, an’ it’s this: There’s them that’s had it in for ye these months past, an’ has done their da—I mean their dirtiest—to spoil yer cut an’ hang yer drive. They haven’t done it, an’ for why? Bekase ye’re good stuff, an’ kept a stiff upper lip an’ stayed wid the game when others would have give it up, beaten. There ain’t a man that ain’t proud to work for ye, an’ we’ll stick by ye, Mr. Kent, till there’s snowballin’ in—in summer. That’s what I was to say. An’ besides that, an’ not wantin’ to be fresh at all, we wish you an’ the young lady all sorts of luck an’ happiness.”
Haggarty sat down and was pounded on the back. Joe rose, almost as confused as Haggarty. “Boys,” said he, “you knew I was in a tight place and you stayed with me. I’ve got you to thank that my logs are here to-night, instead of somewhere upriver. Each man of you has done the work of a dozen, and I want you to know that I’m grateful. I can’t pay you in money, but I want to say that I’m the friend of each man here, and any time one of you wants anything from me all he has to do is to ask for it. I hope to have you all with me next year, and I’ll saw every log we cut in my own mills. Just one thing more, and that’s an important one.” He took Jack’s hand and she rose blushing and laughing while the men cheered madly. “Miss Crooks will be Mrs. Kent in a few weeks, boys, and we ask you all to the wedding.”
The shout that went up startled the little town. They cheered and pounded the table with hammer-like fists. Then in the tumult began a cry which soon grew insistent:
“Cooley, Cooley! Big Bill Cooley!”
“Speech, Bill!”
“Get up on yer hind-legs, ye bully-boy!”
“Tell the boss about it, Bill!”
From the seclusion of the foot of the farthest table came muffled, shamefaced protest and muttered profanity. Suddenly half a dozen pairs of arms heaved the big riverman upon the long table.
“Heavens, Joe! what has he been doing?” gasped Jack.