“Glad see you, Sim,” Jean responded, as he shook hands with him. “Deese Bob and Jack Golden,” he added, nodding toward the boys.
“Sure, I’ve seen them before,” and the genial storekeeper shook each heartily by the hand.
“When dem logs come down?” Jean asked, as soon as the greetings were over.
“Day afore yesterday,” Sim replied. “Looks as though Ben had the whip hand on ye this time.”
“Sure does,” Bob replied. “But do you happen to know how his logs got jammed there,” he asked.
“Wal, now, that’s a purtty hard question. Ben wasn’t with ’em, as you prob’ly know. Ike Smithers was in charge o’ the gang. Had about a dozen men with him. They seemed ter be goin’ all right till the last of ’em got into the river an’ then, all of a sudden, they stopped. I dunno what made ’em. Don’t often have a jam here.”
“Did they try to start them?” Bob asked.
“Can’t say fer sure, but Jeb Steps, he was in here an’ lowed as how they was a workin’ at it, but he did say that they didn’t seem ter be a workin’ hard ’nough ter hurt ’em any,” and the man grinned as much as to say that Jeb was probably right.
“But there’s no one working on them now,” Jack broke in.
“No, that’s a fact. You see Jeb he lowed as how Ike told him that they couldn’t start ’em without dynamite, and that he was goin’ ter Skowhegan ter git some. Anyhow, they all left bout three o’clock that same day, an’ I hain’t seen nothin’ of ’em since.”