Joan of Arc of the North Woods | Page 9

love, though young men had related to him
their experiences along such lines.
He went into the woods and put himself at the head of the crews. He
had the ability to inspire zeal and loyalty.
In the snowy avenues of the Walpole tract sounded the rick-tack of
busy axes, the yawk of saws, and the crash of falling timber. The twitch
roads, narrow trails which converged to centers like the strands of a
cobweb, led to the yards where the logs were piled for the sleds; and
from the yards, after the snows were deep and had been iced by
watering tanks on sleds, huge loads were eased down the slopes to the
landings close to the frozen Tomah.
Ward Latisan was not merely a sauntering boss, inspecting operations.
He went out in the gray mornings with an ax in his hand. He
understood the value of personal and active leadership. He was one
with his men. They put forth extra effort because he was with them.
Therefore, when the April rains began to soften the March snow crusts
and the spring flood sounded its first murmur under the blackening ice
of Tomah, the Latisan logs were ready to be rolled into the river.

And then something happened!
That contract with the Walpole second cousins--pronounced an air-tight
contract by the lawyer--was pricked, popped, and became nothing.
An heir appeared and proved his rights. He was the only grandson of
old Isaac. The cousins did not count in the face of the grandson's
claims.
In the past, in the Tomah region, there had been fictitious heirs who
had worked blackmail on operators who took a chance with putative
heirs and tax titles. But the Latisans were faced with proofs that this
heir was real and right.
Why had he waited until the cut was landed?
The Latisans pressed him with desperate questions, trying to find a way
out of their trouble.
He was a sullen and noncommunicative person and intimated that he
had suited his own convenience in coming on from the West.
The Latisans, when the heir appeared, were crippled for ready cash,
after settling with the cousin heirs for stumpage and paying the winter's
costs of operating. Those cousins were needy folks and had spent the
money paid to them; there was no hope of recovering any considerable
portion of the amounts.
The true heir attached the logs as they lay, and a court injunction
prevented the Latisans from moving a stick. The heir showed a
somewhat singular disinclination to have any dealings with the Latisans.
He refused their offer to share profits with him; he persistently returned
an exasperating reply: he did not care to do business with men who had
tried to steal his property. He said he had already traded with
responsible parties. Comas surveyors came and scaled the logs and
nested C's were painted on the ends of the timber.
The Latisans had "gone bump"; the word went up and down the

Tomah.
"Well, go ahead and say it!" suggested Rufus Craig when he had set
himself in the path of Ward Latisan, who was coming away from a last,
and profitless, interview with the obstinate heir.
"I have nothing to say, sir."
Craig calculatingly chose the moment for this meeting, desiring to
carry on with the policy which he had adopted. By his system the
Comas had maneuvered after the python method--it crushed, it smeared,
it swallowed.
The Latisans had been crushed--Craig quieted his conscience with the
arguments of business necessity; he had a big salary to safeguard; he
had promised boldly to deliver the goods in the north country. Though
his conscience was dormant, his fears were awake. He was not relishing
Latisan's manner. The repression worried him. The grandson had plenty
of old John in his nature, and Craig knew it!
Craig tried to smear!
"Latisan, I'll give you a position with the Comas, and a good one."
"And the conditions are?"
"That you'll turn over your operating equipment to us at a fair price and
sign a ten-year contract."
"I knew you'd name those conditions. I refuse."
"You're making a fool of yourself--and what for?"
"For a principle! I've explained it to you."
"And I've explained how our consolidated plan butts against your
old-fashioned principle. Do you think for one minute you can stop the
Comas development?"

"I'm still with the independents. We'll see what can be done."
"You're licked in the Toban."
"There's still good fighting ground over in the Noda Valley--and some
fighters are left there."
Craig squinted irefully at the presumptuous rebel.
Latisan hid much behind a smile. "You see, Mr. Craig, I'm just as frank
as I was when I said I was going to New York. You may find me in the
Noda when you get there with