singing circle and quickly appropriated various bits of food from each surprised logger.
“Gim’me that coffee,” he snapped, sweeping French Louey’s tin dipper from his hand. “And that doughnut,” he added, relieving another. And so on he levied tribute, until he had accumulated a large pile of edibles.
When the others came up French Louey made believe he was afraid of Stanley, whereat the latter laughed joyously and fairly hugged the rough fellow.
“No word for me, eh?” drawled a man on the edge of the circle.
“Why, Mr. White!” cried Stanley, grasping both of the calloused hands. “I’m awfully glad to see you.”
After the greetings were over and the famished youths had eaten their fill, White informed Abner: “It’s all clinched. Louey and three other of our men worked for Nace on the school lot. We’ve got him on the hip. He’ll have to pay the stumpage back to the town.”
“Good,” cried Abner, his eyes twinkling. “I can’t report to any one but Hatton, but I’ll say this, fellers; Mister Nace is up against a lot of trouble.”
“That’s always good news,” declared White.
