After breakfast Joe and Tad skidded more seasoned oak and hickory logs in from the wood lot. He took the box from his wagon and drove the stripped-down wagon up beside the logs. Loading them was really a two-man job, but one man could do it.
Joe slanted and braced two short logs against the wagon and used his peavey to roll one of the heavier logs toward them. He rolled one end a short way up one of the leaning logs and braced it with a chunk of wood. Going to the other end, he rolled that up and blocked it. By alternating ends, and rolling each a short way at a time, he finally loaded the log onto the wagon. Tad stood impatiently near.
"I'll help you, Pa."
Joe shook his head. "Not with this."
"Aw, I can handle a peavey."
"Nope. If one of those logs rolled on you, there wouldn't be enough left to scrape up."
"Let me help!"
Joe said patiently, "You watch and see how it's done. Maybe the next time you can help."
Tad squatted on his heels and watched, sulking. Joe loaded the wagon, chained the load, and climbed on top of it to drive through Tenney's Crossing to John Geragty's saw mill. There was plenty of timber to be had for the taking, but never a surplus of seasoned oak and hickory. John would have no trouble selling it for a good price, and therefore he would take his pay for sawing in lumber instead of money. Joe drove up to the saw mill, and John Geragty came to meet him.
"Hear you're goin' to Oregon," he greeted.