"You stop, talk wiz me," said the Canadian.
"What do you want?"
"You go to de mill, yes?"
"What if I am going to the mill?"
At this the French-Canadian muttered something in French which the young lumberman could not understand. "You look for job, hey? No job no more down by de Larson mill, hey?"
"That is none of your business. Let go of my horse."
Again the man muttered something in French. "You no go to de mill. Geet hurt sure. All mens dare on de strike. You go back." And now he shook his fist in Dale's face.
"Are you on a strike?"
"Yees."
"What are you striking about?"