“What can you do?”
“Anything.”
“What's the matter? Up against it?”
“You know my schooner's gone.”
“Yes, I know.” And Mr. Jackson also knew that Hunch was a good man. “Tell you what I'll do, Badeau; I'll make a place for you. How are you on logs?”
“I was boss of Dempsey's gang up to Cadillac four years ago.”
“How much money do you want?”
“'Nough to keep me going. You'll find out what I'm worth fast enough.” Badeau went to work the next morning. He took a cheap room near the lumber-yard, and found before the week was out that he could live on two-thirds of his salary. At the beginning of the second week, Mr. Jackson put him in charge of the river gang, driving logs. Hunch took advantage of the mild weather to get all the logs in the river to the mill before the river should freeze up solid for the winter. He got along well with the men, excepting a fellow named McGuire, who was inclined to grumble at hard work. But one noon at the mill, when the men were matching their strength, Hunch lifted a six-hundred pound pile-driver weight and swung it easily clear of the ground. That quieted McGuire.
One day toward the close of his second week, Badeau found Bruce Considine hanging around, at closing time, outside the mill.
“Hello, Bruce,” he said. “What you doing up here?”