But what is one man's meat is another man's poison, according to the homely adage, and in this case what made Frank so happy made—Damase miserable. The jealous, revengeful fellow saw in it only another proof of the foreman's favouritism, and was also pleased to regard the relegating of Laberge to the dish-washing and so forth as the degradation of a compatriot, which it behoved him to resent, since Laberge seemed lacking in the spirit to do it himself. Had he imagined that he would meet with the support of the majority, he would have sought to organize a rebellion in the camp. But he knew well enough that such a thing was utterly out of the question, so he was forced to content himself with fresh determinations to "get even" with the foreman and his favourite in some way before the winter passed; and, as will be seen, he came perilously near attaining his object.
CHAPTER VII.
A THRILLING EXPERIENCE.
Frank was very happy now that the way had been so opportunely opened for him to take part in the whole round of lumbering operations. He awaited with impatience the coming of noon and the rush of hungry men to their hearty dinner, because it was the signal for his release from chore-boy work and promotion to the more honourable position of assistant-teamster. The long afternoons out in the cold, crisp air, amid the thud of well-aimed axes, the crash of falling trees, the shouts of busy men, and all the other noisy incidents of the war they were waging against the innocent, defenceless forest, were precisely what his heart had craved so long, and he felt clearer than ever in his mind that lumbering was the life for him.
After he had been a week at his new employment, Con Murphy, the big teamster to whom he had been assigned by the foreman, with the injunction to "be easy on the lad, and give him plenty of time to get handy," was heard to say in public,—
"Faith, an' he's a broth of a boy, I can tell you; and I wouldn't give him for half-a-dozen of those parlez-vous Frenchies like the chap whose place he took—indade that I wouldn't."
Which, coming to Damase's ears, added further fuel to the fire of jealousy and hate that was burning within this half-savage creature's breast. So fierce indeed were Damase's feelings that he could not keep them concealed, and more than one of the shantymen took occasion to drop a word of warning into Frank's ear about him.
"You'd better keep a sharp eye on that chap Damase, Frank," they would say. "He's an ugly customer, and he seems to have got it in for you." Frank, on his part, was by no means disposed to laugh at or neglect these kindly warnings. Indeed, he fully intended repeating them to Johnston at the first opportunity. But the days slipped by without a favourable chance presenting itself, and Damase's wild thirst for the revenge which he thought was merited came perilously near a dreadful satisfaction.
February had come, and supplies at the shanty were running low, so that Foreman Johnston deemed it necessary to pay a visit to the depot to see about having a fresh stock sent out. The first that Frank knew of his intention was the night before he started. He had gone into the foreman's little room as usual to read his Bible and pray, and having finished, was about to slip quietly out, Johnston having apparently been quite unobservant of his presence, when he was asked,—
"How would you like to go over to the depot with me to-morrow?"