HUNCH worked hard during the rest of the winter, so hard that he was startled one day, after two weeks up country in the logging camp, to find that March was only a week away. He had been sent to take charge of the logging gang while the regular foreman was getting back on his legs after an ax cut. When he returned to the mill, and reported at the office, Mr. Jackson waved him to a chair.

“Sit down a minute, Badeau. I want to talk to you. How do you like your work, anyhow?”

“It’s all right, sir.”

“How do you get along with the men? Have any trouble?”

“Not lately.”

“Would you like to go back on the lake?”

“Wouldn’t mind.”

“You’ve had a good deal of experience, haven’t you?”

“Guess so.”

“What have you done besides running that little schooner you had?”

“Well, I was mate two years on one of Peters’s coal schooners, and before that I knocked around a good while getting on to the ropes.”

“Now, I’ll tell you, Badeau, we’re going to put on a big schooner this year. She’s the Robert James.”

“I know,” said Hunch, “a three sticker. Belongs to the Wilsons. Stud Marble’s been sailing her.”

“That’s the boat. Well, we’ve bought her, and she’s going out March eleventh with that Menominee bill. If you think you’d like to take her out, say so, and you can have her. We’ve named her the Lucy Jackson.”

Hunch looked down at his cap and then up at the yellow-and-red lithograph, that hung over Mr. Jackson’s desk, of Maud S., rounding into the home stretch. He did not know what to say.

“Speak up, Badeau. Do you want it?”

“Yes, sir, I’ll try it.”

“We don’t want you to try it; we want you to do it. There mustn’t be any doubt about it.”

“There ain’t any. I can do it.”

“All right. Come in again some day this week, and we’ll fix up the details. You might be picking up a crew. And you’d better go down and look her over. She’s at Wilson’s dock.”

Hunch spent the day in going over the schooner, setting things to right and taking an inventory of repairs. For the next two weeks he worked day and night, eating and sleeping when he could. Then exactly on time, the Lucy Jackson was ready, and she sailed for Menominee with Hunch at the wheel and a hundred and ten thousand feet of lumber on the deck.

The spring and summer months slipped by. Hunch was kept so busy delivering cargoes at nearly every port on the lake down to Chicago and Michigan City, and once going around through the straits to Alpena, that he kept little track of the time. He was usually at Liddington at least once a month, but he stayed only a day or so at a time, and then kept aboard the schooner as much as possible.

It was in October, nine months after his talk with Joe Cartier, that he met Mamie’s father in the street in Liddington. Hunch had gone to the post-office, expecting orders from Mr. Jackson, and was hurrying back to the schooner to see about unloading her cargo. Banks was coming down the steps from the bank.

“Hello, Badeau,” he said, holding out his hand. “Where’ve you been all this time?”

“Busy,” said Hunch, taking the hand, and wishing that he could get away.

“Where are you now? Up to Manistee?”

“I s’pose I hail from there ‘s much as anywheres.”

“On the lake again, ain’t you. One of the boys told me you was getting up in the world.”

“Oh, I ain’t very much yet.”

“You’re cap’n of a big schooner, I hear.”

“Yes. How’s all your folks?”

“Pretty well. Mamie was sick for a while, but I guess she’s all right now. Let’s see, it’s most a year since I saw you. Don’t you ever get down here?”

“Not very often.”

“How long ‘re you here for?”

“Guess I can get away to-morrow some time.”

“You’ll be around to-night, won’t you? Mamie and the old lady ‘ll never forgive you if you go away without seeing us.”

“Why——”

“Look here, now, Badeau, I’m going to send Frank down with the rig, and fetch you up to supper.”

“No—I can’t get away. Honest, I can’t. I’ve got a big load here——”

“None of that now. You’ve got to come.”

“I can’t do it, Mr. Banks. I would if I could.”

“Well, I s’pose you know. But Frank will be along for you right after supper, anyhow.”

Hunch walked quickly away. He was excited, and before returning to the schooner he strode a few blocks away from the river. He did not want his men to see him until he could get control of himself.

After supper he got out his good clothes and brushed them carefully. When young Banks drove down on the wharf and called to one of the men forward, Hunch was standing before his square tilted mirror, giving a last twist to his hair.



0188

Mr. and Mrs. Banks were cordial. Mamie came in a little later, and Hunch was surprised to see how pretty she was. She had more flesh and color and her eyes were brighter. She acted as if nothing had happened, and before long Hunch was made to feel at home. When he rose to go, Mr. Banks took his hat and followed him out, and Mamie looked a little conscious when she said “Goodnight.”

“You won’t mind my telling you something, will you, Badeau?” said Banks, when they were on the side-walk. “I couldn’t help seeing to-day that you didn’t want to come around, and I———”

“Oh, it ain’t that———”

“Hold on, now. I know just what it is. I ain’t lived longer ‘n you have for nothing. I see how you feel, and I just want you to know that we feel different. Of course, there’s some things does make a difference, some kind of things—there’s no getting around that—but all the same, we ain’t holding anything against you. I’ll tell you, Badeau—and I ain’t ashamed to say it—when I found out how you’d been keeping my girl alive when I weren’t man enough to do it myself............