"I can fight if it comes to it," answered the young lumberman grimly.
"Bah! I not bodder wid you," snapped Ducrot, and turned again to his work. Owen did the same. But he kept his eye on the French-Canadian, and Ducrot took care not to send any more chips flying in his direction.
In the camp there were, all told, five French-Canadians: four loggers and a cook. The cook, it may be mentioned, in passing, had charge of one-half of the cooking, while Jeff had charge of the other. The French-Canadian would have nothing to do with the colored man, and thought he could not cook at all, while the negro looked with equal disdain upon the culinary efforts of the other.
Baptiste Ducrot was on fairly good terms with one of the loggers, a wild fellow named Passamont, but he tried in vain to get into the good graces of Jean Colette.
"I not like dat feller," said Colette to Dale. "He drink, he swear, he make von beast of himself."
"You are right about that," answered the young lumberman. And then he went on: "Do you ever hear him talking about his doings before he came here?"
"Some time, oui. He make de big boast. Say he make much money an' spend him. Bah! Why not he safe somet'ing fo' de day when he rains, like you say him?"
"I know I can trust you, Colette. Will you do me a favor?"
"Favair? Sure. What shall I do?"
"If you ever hear him talking about a horse he had and sold, let me know. But don't say anything to him about it."