Along the Kennebec River the camps of the river drivers are located at intervals of from ten to twelve miles. Each of these camps supports a crew numbering from twenty to forty men according to the condition of the river. It is the duty of each crew to see that all logs get safely by their allotted territory.

The first of the Golden logs had been started down the river before the camps were filled, as Mr. Golden was anxious to get the first lot down as soon as possible to avoid all danger of forfeiting his contract with the paper company. He had figured that the drivers would be on the job before they got very far on their way, and he had ordered Jean Lamont and his small crew to go straight through with the logs to Waterville. It was time now for the different crews to be in the cabins, and he fully expected that, from now on, he would have all the help needed.

About two and a half miles down the river from The Forks, is an island lying nearly in the middle of the stream. It is a bad place for a jam to form, as the island, occupying a good part of the river, forms a natural barrier. Still there is little danger of a jam forming, provided the safety boom is in good shape and does not give way. This boom is made in the shape of a V, the apex pointing up the river and fastened securely to a log driven into the river bed. The sides of the V inclose the island and are firmly secured to rocks or logs sunk into the river bottom. So long as this boom is in proper shape, the logs, as they reach the point of the V are shunted to the channels, on either side of the island. But once let the boom give way and a jam is inevitable.

As soon as Mr. Golden saw that the jam was really broken and that there was little danger of another being formed, he called to Jean.

“You’d better get down to the island as soon as you can with your men. The boom there was all right when I came by yesterday, but, as you know, there’s a certain man who will do almost anything to hold back those logs. He said he’d be up here along about noon with a crew and get them started out of the jam and goodness knows what he may have done to that boom at the island.”

“Oui, we go ver’ queek, an’ eef heem break that boom heem bet’ look out,” and the Frenchman’s face, for the moment lost its cheerful smile.

“I don’t want you to have any trouble with any of his men if it can be prevented,” Mr. Golden cautioned him.

“Trust Jean for that,” Bob laughed, “But,” he added, “if trouble is thrust upon him, look out for fireworks.”

“I guess we might as well go along with him,” Jack proposed.

“Now, boys, I want you to be careful and avoid trouble,” Mr. Golden said soberly. “I’ve got to go back home at once and have just time to drive to Solon and get the afternoon train. I wish I could stay and see those logs through, but there’s an important meeting of the bank directors tomorrow morning and I have to be there, so I’ll have to leave it to you.” Then, turning to Rex, he asked, “How long can you stay with the boys?”

“Why, I suppose I ought to go home right away, but you see, sir, this is all new to me and it’s so interesting that I’m going to stay a day or two longer, that is, if they want me to,” Rex replied with a sly glance at the two boys.

“If you stay as long as we want you to you’ll stay till we go back to college,” Bob laughed as he shook hands with his father.

“Well, stay as long as you can, Rex,” Mr. Golden said as he bade them goodbye.

“How are we going to get down to that island?” Rex asked after Mr. Golden had left.

“Go down on the logs, of course,” Jack replied. “You see,” he explained, “that’s the quickest way to get there. Of course if we had a boat in the river ahead of the logs we could make better time, but as we haven’t we’ll have to make the best of it. But Rex ought to have a pair of calked boots if he’s going to ride the logs down,” he added turning to Bob.

“That’s so,” Bob agreed. “I guess we can pick up a pair at Sim’s, but we’ve got to make it snappy.”

They started for the store on the run and, having found a pair of boots to fit Rex they were back in almost no time, as Jack put it.

“Come on, now, let’s go,” Bob cried as they reached the river, now filled with the floating logs. “Now Rex, you want to be careful,” he added. “You can’t slip with those boots on, but, if you step on a small log its apt to turn on you. Better stick to the big ones.”

They had been running rapidly from log to log while Bob was speaking. Rex had some trouble at first in keeping his balance, but he was quick to catch on to the knack and by the time they had reached the head of the drive, he insisted that he was as good as any of them.

“I’ll be an old stager in another day,” he laughed as he began to dance on a giant spruce.

Jean and his men with the exception of the cook, who had been sent back to follow the drive down in the big scow, were on the foremost of the logs.

“How do they tell which of these logs belong to who?” Rex laughed.

“That’s easy,” Bob replied. “If you’ll look you’ll see that each log is marked or rather cut with a certain brand See that X on the end of that log you’re standing on? Well, that means that the log belongs to Mr. Ben Donahue, better known as Big Ben.”

“Same’s they brand horses out West,” Rex said. “What’s your mark?”

“All our logs are marked with a T,” Bob explained. “You see it has to be a mark that can be easily made with an axe.”

“About how fast are we going?” Rex asked, eager to learn all he could.

“Between two and three miles an hour, I should judge,” Bob replied.

“Don’t the water run faster than that?”

“Some,” Bob replied. “But you see there’s a lot of friction with the logs rubbing against each other and butting into the banks all the time and that slows them down so they never quite keep up with the water. I suppose a single log or two out in the middle would go as fast as the current, but a big lot together like these never do.”

“Look,” Jack cried at that moment. “Jean and Pierre are going to go ahead and get down beforehand.”

Rex looked as Jack pointed and saw the two men, one on each end, of what seemed to him a pretty small log to carry two heavy men, in the act of pushing the log ahead with their peaveys.

“Why, don’t they take a big one?” Rex asked.

“Because they can make a little one go faster,” Jack laughed.

Rex soon saw that what Bob had told him was true, for as soon as the single log was well away from the rest it began to forge ahead. True, its pace was increased by the fact that the two Frenchmen were using their peaveys for paddles, but he could see that their log had drawn away from the main drive even before they had began to paddle.

“I’ll say they’re clever,” he declared as he noted the ease with which the two kept their balance.

“They don’t make ’em any better, not on this river anyway,” Jack declared with pride.

“That’s nothing,” Bob broke in. “I only hope we can get Jean to have a log rolling contest with someone before you go back. Then you’d see something that really is clever.”

“I say, Bob,” Jack said as Jean and his fellow voyager disappeared around a bend in the river, “If that crew of Ben’s is going to get up to The Forks by noon it’s funny we haven’t seen anything of them, don’t you think?”

“Just what I was thinking,” Bob declared. “But,” he added, “you know that if Ben said they’d be there today some time next week would more likely be the time they’ll arrive.”

“You’re about right there,” Jack agreed.

“I say, but we’re leaving a lot of logs behind along the shore,” Rex declared as he glanced about him.

“Sure we are,” Jack agreed. “But that can’t be helped. You see,” he explained, “we started out with a lot more than enough to make up the first delivery. The crew’ll get those logs which stick later on and if enough get by to fill the bill the rest can poke along later.”

“The crew which belongs on this beat ought to be here in a day or two at the latest,” Bob broke in, “and they won’t be long in getting them going again. Speed for the main bunch is what we’re after now.”

By this time they had reached the curve in the river and as they swept around it they had a clear view of the stream for a distance of nearly a mile.

“See! There’s the island,” Jack shouted.

The island was in plain view about a mile ahead and, about half way between them and it they could see the two Frenchmen riding their log.

“They’re making some time,” Jack said as he caught sight of them.

“Sure are,” Bob agreed.

“I never would have believed that they could make a log go that fast,” Rex declared.

“I’ll bet there’s something wrong with the boom and they’ve spotted it,” Jack said. “You know Jean can see about twice as far as most men with those eagle eyes of his.”

“I’m afraid you’re right because they are certainly making the dust fly,” Bob declared soberly.

“I’m afraid you’re getting your figures of speech mixed a bit,” Rex said as he glanced at Jack. “I don’t see anything particularly dusty about this river.”

“I stand corrected,” Bob laughed. “But I guess you know what I mean.”

“Oh, we get the idea all right,” Jack assured him.

“Well, dust or no dust, they’re certainly getting that log through the water at a faster rate of speed than I would have believed possible,” Rex insisted.

For some time after this no one spoke but all kept their eyes fixed on the two men ahead. The distance was too great for them to see much except that they seemed to be making strenuous efforts to get the utmost speed possible out of their primitive craft, and the distance was, of course steadily increasing.

“There must be something the matter with that boom,” Jack insisted as he shaded his eyes with his hand, “They wouldn’t break their necks to get there so quick if it was all right.”

“Well, I hope they will be able to get it fixed, whatever it is, before we arrive,” Bob declared. “They’ll have just about twenty minutes I should judge,” he added a moment later.

It was about ten minutes later when Jack declared that the two Frenchmen had arrived at their destination.

“They’ve found something wrong,” he announced a little later as he shifted his position to another log.

By this time both Bob and Rex could see that Jack was right. It was plainly evident that the two men were busily engaged in repairing the boom.

“I told you it would be broken,” Jack said. “And what’s more I’ll bet my last year’s straw hat that I can name the party who is responsible for it. Any takers?”

“Nothing like betting on a sure thing,” Bob laughed. “I haven’t a mite of doubt, but that you are right, but we’ll hope that Jean and Pierre get it fixed in time. They certainly are doing their best all right.”

Now they could see that both men were in the water up to their waists, pulling the logs of the broken boom into place and fastening them with bits of rope which they had had the presence of mind to take with them.

“They’re not going to get it done in time,” Jack groaned.

“I’m afraid you’re right,” Bob agreed. “They’ve only got about five minutes more at the most.”

Unfortunately the river narrowed slightly just opposite the head of the island, so that, should the logs catch in the island, a jam would be inevitable. Jean and Pierre were working as rapidly as possible, but much still remained to be done and the head of the drive was now close upon them.

“Eet is no go,” Jean declared as he finished tying two logs together.

He was correct for, before he could fasten the peak of the boom to the tying post, the front of the drive struck.

“Never mind, fellows,” Bob shouted as he sprang to the shore. “You did the best you could.”

“Oui, we try ver’ hard, but some man cut most all the tie pieces and we no have time to geet all feexed.”

Fortunately the current at this point is not swift and there was no piling up of the logs. They came to a stop, being wedged into the two channels on either side of the island, as gently as a feather, as Jack described it.

“It’ll simply be a case of picking them out one by one until we get a space big enough to string that boom,” Bob explained to Rex, as they stood looking up the river.

“Some job,” the latter declared.

“Oh, it won’t take so long as you’d think when we get thirty or forty men at it,” Jack said as he joined them.

“Ben’s crew ought to be along any time now, though you never can tell about what he’s up to,” Bob remarked as he glanced toward the shore.

“Here comes Sam with the grub,” Jack shouted a little later as he spied the cook coming down the river on the logs carrying a big basket in his hand.

“There’s a camp over to the right of the island and I move we go there and get dinner the first thing. It must be about noon,” Bob proposed.

“Just twelve o’clock and I second the motion,” Jack responded as he started to lead the way.

Sam soon had a roaring fire going in the cook stove, with which the cabin was equipped, and Jean and Pierre crowded as close to it as they could get in order to dry their wet clothes.

“Aren’t you afraid you’ll catch cold?” Rex asked as he joined them.

“Non, we no geet cold. We tough,” Jean grinned, and Pierre nodded assent.

They had just finished their lunch when the sound of voices were heard outside.

“Guess that’s Ben’s crew,” Bob said as he started for the door.

He was right and in almost no time, the crew, numbering some thirty men, had taken possession of the camp. They were a happy-go-lucky crowd of half-breeds and Irish, in charge of a big Irishmen by the name of Pat Murphy.

The boys knew Pat slightly and he greeted them with a great show of cordiality.

“So yez got the jam away from The Forks, did yez?” he asked as he shook hands with them.

“But we didn’t get very far,” Bob said dryly.

If Pat Murphy noticed the tone of his remark he showed no indication of it.

“Oh, well, and it’s us as’ll have ’em agoin’ agin before yez know it,” he promised, as he glanced out of the window toward the river. “There’s no head ter thot jam and they’ll be after starting aisy I’m thinkin’.”

It was well after two o’clock before the crew had finished dinner.

“Sure and it’s no use tryin’ ter make them fellers do iny work till they git filled up,” Pat assured them as he came out of the camp and joined the boys who were sitting on a log in front of the building.

“I suppose not,” Bob agreed.

“No use at all at all,” Pat repeated. “But we’ll be after gitting at ’em pretty soon now.”

But, as Bob predicted, one excuse followed another and it was nearly four o’clock before they actually got to work, and even then, it was plainly evident to the boys that they were instructed to accomplish as little as possible.

“The lazy loafers,” Rex said after he had watched them for a few minutes.

“It isn’t that,” Bob explained. “They’re under orders from Big Ben to hold those logs here as long as they can without coming to a showdown. If we could prove that they were holding them intentionally we could make him pay for it as it’s against the law, but there’s little chance of doing that. They’ll just doddle along and put up a big front of working and at the same time do just as little as possible. Oh, he’s a sharp one all right.”

“But we’ve got the best of him more than once and we may this time,” Jack declared.

Both Jean and Pierre were working with the crew and the boys could see that they were doing their utmost to make them work faster but with little success.

At five o’clock they knocked off for the day and Jack declared bitterly, “They haven’t loosened up enough logs to make a good bunch of shingles.”

“Them logs are packed in tighter nor I thought,” Pat declared as he came up the bank.

“I hope none of your men over-exerted themselves,” Bob said looking him full in the eyes.

Pat turned his head away.

“Well, yez see, they’ve had a long tramp the day and I guess they’re kinder tired, but we’ll be after showin’ yez some action ter-morrer.”

Supper was a hilarious meal. The men were in excellent spirits and jokes and stories ran around the table, interspersed with frequent snatches of song.

“They know they’ve got a soft thing of it for a few days at least,” Bob whispered to Rex.

As soon as supper was over the men went outside and gathered in groups and talked, sang songs and smoked in the twilight.

It was about an hour later when Bob announced that he was going for a drink of water from a small spring a few rods back in the woods. He had known of that spring for a long time and often declared that there was no water quite so good as that.

“Anybody coming along?” he asked.

But both Rex and Jack decided that they were not thirsty, so he started off alone.

A few feet back of the camp was a small shed used as a store house for tools. On his way to the spring Bob had to pass close to it and, as he approached, the sound of voices reached him. He stopped for a moment and listened. Two men, it was evident, were in the shed talking earnestly. Under ordinary circumstances Bob would have scorned the thought of being an eavesdropper, but he had recognized the voice of one of the men as that of Pat Murphy. He was quite sure that if Pat Murphy had brought one of his men out to the shed for a private conversation the matter under discussion concerned him and his father. So his conscience gave him no pricks as he crept closer until he was directly beneath a small window at the back of the shed. He could now hear distinctly all that was being said although the men were talking in low tones.

“Yez see,” Pat was saying, “we can’t hold them logs here much longer. ’Tis a cinch ter git ’em started and Jean Larue well knows thot same.”

“But there’s only six of ’em,” the other man declared, “and what kin they do wid us? Dem city kids don’t count.”

“I know,” Pat explained, “but Baptiste Lamont and his crew of forty or more Canucks will be up here sometime tomorrow and Baptiste don’t stand for no funny work. He thinks as how the sun rises and sets fer Golden.”

“Wall, an’ whot is it ye want me ter do?” the other asked.

“Ye will pick out three men ye kin trust and go down the river till ye git ter the rips. It’s only about two miles down. Ye know the water’s mighty fast thar where the river narrows and if we kin git a jam thar they’ll pile up till it’ll take all of a week ter get ’em started agin.”

“But how we goin’ ter start a jam thar?”

“Sure and it’ll be aisy enough. Ye’ll find a scow jest forninst a big pine thot’s so big ye can’t miss it. The water’s only two or three fate deep out in the middle thar, and there’s some mighty big rocks out thar. Now all ye have ter do is ter git out thar wid yer peaveys and build up a pier like of rocks. Build it up till thar’s only about three or four inches of water running over it an’ it’ll do the trick all right.”

“Huh, talk’s cheap, an’ aisy,” the other sneered. “I spose as how ye think it’ll be a reg’lar picnic wirkin’ in the ice water out thar.”

“Don’t I know it’ll be cold,” Murphy snapped. “Ye dont think as how I’m expectin’ ye ter do it fer nuttin,’ does yez? It’ll be twenty dollars fer yez and ten fer each of the men, if ye git a jam thar. Take it or lave it.”

“Now ye’re sayin’ sumpin’,” the man replied more enthusiastically. “I’ll take the job an’ we’ll make ’em jam up all right.”

“All right,” Pat said, and Bob could hear him moving as though about to leave the shed.

“Guess it’s about time I was making a get-away,” he thought as he moved carefully off toward a thick clump of pines a short distance from the shed.

As soon as he was certain that he was out of sight from the camp the hoot of an owl sounded through the woods. The sound was repeated three times and as the third hoot ended Jack, who was sitting on a log, a few feet from the door of the camp, whispered to Rex, who was beside him.

“Listen. I think that’s Bob.”

A moment later the cry came again, whoo, whoo, whoo—whoo, whoo, whoo—whoo, whoo, whoo.

“That’s Bob and he wants us,” Jack asserted, all doubt gone. “Now follow me and be mighty careful. Just walk about slowly as though we were not going anywhere in particular,” he whispered as he got to his feet.

Taking hold of Rex’s arm he led him slowly about among the groups of men talking carelessly. Little by little the two worked away until they were some distance from the camp. It was nearly dark by this time and Jack felt sure that he had aroused no suspicions in the minds of any of the men.

“We’ll stand here and talk a few minutes till it gets a bit darker,” he said.

In another five minutes he felt safe in making a break and with a word to Rex, he quickly led the way off from the river.

“Just wait a minute, and I’ll find out where he is,” he said after they had gone a few yards into the thick woods.

“Whoo, whoo, whoo.”

“Whoo, whoo, whoo.”

“He’s right over there,” Jack declared as he turned to the left.

“Got away all right, did you?” Bob’s voice greeted them close at hand.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“There’s a lot up, or there soon will be if we don’t prevent it,” Bob declared in a low tone, and he told them what he had heard.

“What do you know about that?” Jack sputtered as soon as he had finished.

“It’s no more than you would expect, is it?” Bob asked.

“Guess not, but it’s pretty dirty work at that.”

“I should say so,” Rex broke in. “I didn’t suppose they did such things as that now-a-days.”

“You don’t know Big Ben Donahue,” Bob told him.

“Well, what about it? I suppose it’s up to us,” and Jack waited for Bob’s answer with an anxious mind.

“I’ve been thinking about it while waiting for you and Rex to get here, and it seems to me that there’s but one thing to do. Of course we could get Jean and the rest of our men together and go down and try to stop them but you know that will mean a fight and I think it can be avoided.”

“Fight’s our middle name,” Jack laughed. “But if you say no fight, why no fight has it.”

“I never believe in fighting when there’s a better way out,” Bob declared. “Now here’s my plan. We’ll let them build up the pier and then all we have to do is to take that scow, after they have returned to the camp, and go out and tear it down. It ought not to be very hard work to do it and I believe we can do it from the boat without getting into the water at all. What do you think about it?”

“I’ll say it’s a good idea,” Jack quickly agreed. “You certainly have the thinking apparatus of this firm working in good shape.”

“S-hh,” Bob whispered as his ears caught the sound of steps. “Someone’s coming.”

In another minute low voices were heard coming nearer and soon four men, talking in low tones, passed within six feet of them. The boys kept perfectly still until the men were out of hearing.

“I guess those are the fellows who are to do the dirty work,” Jack whispered.

“No doubt about it,” Bob agreed. “We’ll wait about an hour and by that time they ought to be at work. Then we’ll get some peaveys and follow them down. We can hide in the woods till they get through.”

The weather had turned warm during the day and they were not uncomfortable as they waited. They could hear the laughter and songs of the men as they sat around a small fire which they had started a few yards from the door of the camp. But in the woods men go early to bed and as the fire died down, by twos and threes they sought their bunks and, by the time the hour had passed, all about the camp was silence.

There was no moon and the night was very dark.

“Got your flash with you?” Jack asked.

“Yep, I just happened to have it in my pocket,” Bob replied.

“That’s luck. Mine’s in the camp.”

“Well, let’s get the peaveys and then we’ll be on our way,” and Bob led the way back to the shed.

But securing the peaveys proved a more difficult task than they had anticipated.