“Of course not,” Scott agreed. “Come on in.”
He took Dick by the arm and led him into the bunk house. “There’s your bunk. Crawl in.”
Dick obeyed without a word but as he rolled over they heard him mumble, “I’ll show him he can’t give me an ungentlemanly job.”
“Going to call up the sheriff?” Mac asked when they were outside.
“No,” Scott replied emphatically. “Arrest him, and when he gets out he’ll join Foster again. Put him to work in the morning and he’ll be all right.”
“Reckon you’re right,” Mac admitted. “Good night.”
CHAPTER XXI
SCOTT FINDS THE STILL
Dick went cheerfully to work with the other men in the morning and seemed to have forgotten all his troubles. Mac put on a guard to watch the buildings at night and he kept a sharp lookout for Foster in the daytime, but that gentleman seemed to have realized his danger and kept out of sight.
Scott had begun to think that Foster must have left the country when he spied him one day sneaking through the woods a short distance from the camp. But Foster evidently saw him and immediately disappeared in the brush.
Everything at the camp was in good working order now. The four felling crews were hard at it, each one working up a narrow strip from the valley to the ridge. Their progress was marked by the steady booming of the falling trees. The skid teams followed each other in an almost continuous procession with their train of logs, and the big steam jammer loaded them on to the cars on the siding as fast as they came down.