The Golden Boys With the Lumber Jacks

by L. P. Wyman

But his fears in regard to starving were groundless for, as soon as they had satisfied their appetites, the larger man, without a word, untied his hands and motioned toward the table, indicating that he was welcome to what was left. Somewhat to his surprise he found that there was enough and he made a hearty meal, cleaning up every bit that was left.

“They may not be so generous next time,” he thought as he washed the last mouthful down with his third dipper of coffee.

Meanwhile a large kettle had been filled with snow and placed on the top of the stove to melt, and as soon as he had finished the big Frenchman in gruff tones ordered him to get busy and wash the dishes. At first Jack was on the point of refusing, the tone in which the order was given making his blood boil with anger, but quickly realizing how completely he was in their power he decided to make the best of it and do as he was ordered.

The men sat at the table playing cards with a dirty pack which they had taken from the drawer and paid no further attention to him. Washing the dishes was not a long task and as soon as he had finished he sat down in the only chair unoccupied and for a time watched the men. They were playing for small stakes and it was evident to the boy that the smaller man was winning. A heavy frown settled on the larger man’s face and Jack wondered if the game would not end in a fight. But after playing for an hour or more the loser threw down the cards with an exclamation of disgust and declared that he was tired out and was going to bed.

The two bunks were filled with small pine boughs as Jack could tell by the odor which pervaded the room.

“Guess I’ll have to sleep on the floor,” he thought as the two men threw off their heavy coats and pulled off their moccasins.

It was nearly five o’clock in the morning when they threw down their cards and started to make preparations for bed. Jack wondered anxiously what disposition would be made of him, but he was not left long in doubt. He was told to keep his seat in the chair and quickly and expertly the larger of the men bound his hands together behind the back of the chair. His feet were then tied firmly to the legs of the chair.

“Now I guess you stay put,” the man grunted as he straightened up and surveyed the job.

Jack had not uttered a word while he was being tied. He knew that a plea for mercy would be a waste of breath, so he kept quiet. After stuffing the stove full of wood they extinguished the light and the boy could hear them as they tumbled into the bunks, and a few minutes later the sound of heavy breathing told him that they were asleep.

For a time he strained at the rope in an effort to free himself, but it had been tied by a man skilled in the art, and all he accomplished was to chafe his wrists until it seemed as though they were rubbed raw. Realizing that he was causing himself pain and getting no results, he soon gave up the effort.