“I don’t like your tone of voice, sir! Put the men out on the jam and have them fend the logs off as fast as they come down, running them round the end.”
“All right,” muttered Sullivan, and then he did as ordered.
For two hours the men worked like beavers, and, with the exception of a few logs, there was no great addition to the jam. At last, only an occasional stray log came down, and then Forest told Sullivan to prepare to break the jam.
“How be ye goin’ to do it?” asked the ugly foreman.
“With dynamite, of course.”
“We ain’t got no dynamite.”
“No dynamite? How is that?”
“Well, I didn’t expect another jam after gettin’ down this way, and so I ain’t prepared.”
Forest was thoroughly angry, and he gave Sullivan the “dressing down” that the man deserved, ending by ordering him to go out and break the jam with an ax.
Without a word, Sullivan went. He picked out a log and cut it in two. When it cracked, he dropped the ax and hustled ashore. But the jam did not give way.