"And how about the coal," cried Barr to the lumberman before he drew his team to a stop.
"Coal a plenty," replied the lumberman cheerfully.
"Good, good, good!" exclaimed Barr, his distinguished old face lighting up with great delight.
"Yep," let out the lumberman, coming toward the buggy. "I've weighed you, and round to the bin is the coal. St. Jean Baptiste arrived last night—that is, I think he got home last night, although he brought the coal this morning, two loads, four tons."
"Eighty hundred pounds of coal, you don't say! And it was Jean Baptiste who brought it! Now, say, wasn't that great! Not another man on this whole Reservation save he could have made it," he ended admiringly.
"Jean Baptiste is the man who can bring it if anybody," rejoined the other.
At this moment a large, stout man came driving up in a one horse rig.
"Any coal?" he called lazily from his seat.
"Plenty," cried Barr.
"Thank God," exclaimed the other, whose name was Stark, and who held the claim that cornered with the town on the northeast, and therefore joined with the Baptiste claim on the east.