“Well, this ain't been a very flush season, Hunch, and I s'pose I ought to take it.”
“Can you come right along? I'd like to overhaul her a little and run up there this afternoon. If they're reasonable quick about loading, we can get right back.”
A few hours later Hunch ran her out between the piers, with Peabody up forward, and pointed north-east-by-north to clear Big Point Sable. The breeze was light, and it was not until six o'clock that evening that the Dean ran into the harbor at Manistee. Hunch promptly looked up the lumberman.
“How are you, Badeau. You came right up.”
“Yes, I did.”
“We'll put that timber aboard the first thing in the morning.”
“You can't do it to-night, then?”
“Oh, hardly.” Mr. Jackson glanced out at the starlit sky. “You don't think there's any doubt about the weather, do you?”
“Maybe not. But if I could get it aboard now, I'd start right back. We know we're all right to-night.”
The lumberman's supper awaited him; his men had scattered to their homes. He glanced again at the sky, then said, “The morning 'll do, I guess.”