The savings of the two young lumbermen, including the gift from Mr. Jefferson Wilbur, amounted to over three hundred dollars, a sum which both surveyed with delight, and Owen with positive astonishment.
"Three hundred and twenty-four dollars," cried Owen. "And half of it belongs to me. Why, I never dreamed I could save so much."
"It only shows what you can save if you put your mind to it," answered Dale. "We've saved this and we haven't deprived ourselves of very much either, have we?"
"Not a great deal, Dale. Once in a while I wanted some extras, but I'm just as well off, I reckon, as if I'd had 'em. What do you think we'd best do with this cash? It isn't safe in the trunk. The house might burn down."
"Let's each open a bank account of one hundred dollars," answered Dale, and this was done. They were very proud of their bank books, and looked at them a long while before stowing them away.
"The interest on a hundred dollars each year won't be much, but it will be enough to buy a fellow a good pair of boots," said Owen.
While they were in Bangor looking around for another situation, they heard news from up the river. On the day he was to be tried in court Baptiste Ducrot had escaped from jail. Where he had gone nobody knew, but the report was that he had jumped aboard a fast freight on the Canadian Pacific Railroad, and taken his flight to the Far West. Link Axton had been tried and sentenced to two years in the State penitentiary.
"Ducrot won't dare show himself here for a good many years," said Owen. "And it may be that he'll never come back."
"Well, I guess Maine can get along without him," answered Dale. "I never want to see or hear of him again."
Bangor was alive with lumbermen, and the two soon found out that the mills had all the help they wanted, and even the yards could take on no additional hands. Then they tried Oldtown, and half a dozen other places, with like result.