THE SEVEN LUMBER-JACKS
What on earth was the game that he was playing?
"Hurry up, boys, and send for the police, or there may be trouble. Who's going?"
"I don't mind if I go," offered Chris. "I'll start right now. The sooner we get Mr.— Close safe in gaol, the better."
We all saw Chris off, and then the men took us back into the bunkhouse, where they talked and argued for an hour. November had relapsed into his usual taciturnity. But when at length he spoke again his words acted like a bombshell.
"Say, boys," he said, and the cadence of his accent was very marked, "it's about time we let the boss out."
Every head jerked round in his direction. "Let him out?" shouted a dozen voices. "Before the police come?"
"Best so," replied November in his gentle manner. "You see, it was n't him held you up, boys."
"Who was it, then?"
November stood up.
"Come, and I'll show you."
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