A sight of that fist was all that was needed to loosen that man’s tongue.
“Me mak’ der noise,” he said, in a tone trembling with fear but loud enough for all to hear.
“Come on, we feex heem,” one Frenchman shouted, and a number sprang forward but Tom waved them back.
“No, byes, sure an’ he’s had enough, an’ besides he’s only a tool,” and, taking the man by the arm he quickly pushed him out the door and closed it behind him, after Bob and Jack had followed him.
“Now ye listen ter me,” he began, as soon as they reached the edge of the clearing where they had left their snow-shoes. “Go back ter yer camp an’ tell Big Ben thot if he tries iny more of his funny business we’ll be after trying some too an’ don’t yer fergit it.”
The Frenchman said nothing, but after fastening his snow-shoes slunk off through the woods and was almost immediately lost to sight.
“I guess that’s the last of the spook business,” Bob said thoughtfully, as they made their way back to the bunk house.
“Perhaps, but he’ll try something else. Big Ben doesn’t give up so easily,” Jack declared, and subsequent events proved that he was right.
The “ghost” having been laid, as Jack put it, the boys were glad the next morning to note that the men had fully recovered their spirits. Snatches of song interspersed with frequent shouts of laughter rang through the forest, as ax and saw bit into the great trees.
“They’re sure a happy lot when there’s nothing on their minds,” Jack declared, as he buried the blade of his ax in the trunk of a particularly large spruce.