He had dropped the bluff tone of intimidation, and his voice was subtle, conciliating. They were out of ear-shot of the camp now.
“I haven’t much to say,” returned Tom. “I saw my father—Matthew Jackson, of Toronto—and told him all about the raft. You can guess the rest. He took over Dan Wilson’s business, you know. You haven’t any rights here at all. We might pay you something for the work you’ve done already on it, but that’ll be all we’ll do. You’ll have to get ready to quit.”
Harrison steered Tom a little way farther into the woods, saying nothing. Then he stopped, and spoke in a low tone of intense passion.
“Do you think I’d quit now? It’s a year that I’ve been working for this. Part of the timber’s sold already. I’m going to float out a raft to-morrow or the next day. Do you want to have one fight now and another in the courts? Look here, I’ll make a reasonable deal. I’ve got maybe a third of this stuff ready to move. Let me get away with that and I’ll leave the rest of it for you.”
“Can’t do it,” returned Tom promptly. “I couldn’t make such a deal myself, and I know father wouldn’t. He’ll be here to-morrow, and—”
“Your father won’t be here to-morrow. He’s going to be turned back before he gets to the lake,” said Harrison.
“Turned back? What do you mean?” Tom exclaimed, with a sudden, horrified vision of his father being ambushed, perhaps shot on the trail. “Are you going to try another trick? You can’t work it, Harrison!”
They were standing close together and face to face, and at that moment Tom felt something hard against his body. Glancing down, he saw a revolver that glittered dimly, its muzzle digging into his stomach.
“I gave you a chance!” Harrison muttered between clenched teeth. “What do you take—life or death? You young fool, I’m a desperate man. I’m going to have that timber now, and I don’t care what stands in my way—not even murder.”
Tom shrank back involuntarily from the revolver barrel, which sent a cold thrill to his very backbone. He had lost his rifle; he was entirely unarmed. But reason told him that Harrison would not really shoot. He would not go the length of murder, with a dozen men within fifty yards. It was a bluff! Charlie was surely lurking somewhere in the shadows offshore. Tom filled his lungs, and suddenly opened his mouth to yell.