ing. As it was impossible in so great a mass of timbers, and in the
haste of a pressing labour, to distinguish or discriminate against
any single brand, Heinzman was in a fair way to get his logs sent down
stream with practically no expense.

"Vell, my boy," remarked the German quite frankly to Orde as they met on
the road one day, "looks like I got you dis time, eh?"

Orde laughed, also with entire good-humour.

"If you mean your logs are going down with ours, why I guess you have.
But you paste this in your hat: you're going to keep awful busy, and
it's going to cost you something yet to get 'em down."

To Newmark, on one of his occasional visits to the camps, Orde detailed
the situation.

"It doesn't amount to much," said he, "except that it complicates
matters. We'll make him scratch gravel, if we have to sit up nights and
work overtime to do it. We can't injure him or leave his logs, but we
can annoy him a lot."

The state of affairs was perfectly well known to the men, and the entire
river entered into the spirit of the contest. The drivers kept a sharp
lookout for "H" logs, and whenever possible thrust them aside into
eddies and backwaters. This, of course, merely made work for the sackers
Heinzman had left above the rear. Soon they were in charge of a very
fair little drive of their own. Their lot was not enviable. Indeed, only
the pressure of work prevented some of the more aggressive of Orde's
rear--among whom could be numbered the Rough Red--from going back and
"cleaning out" this impertinent band of hangers-on. One day two of the
latter, conducting the jam of the miniature drive astern, came within
reach of the Rough Red. The latter had lingered in hopes of rescuing his
peavy, which had gone overboard. To lose one's peavy is, among rivermen,
the most mortifying disgrace. Consequently, the Rough Red was in a fit
mood for trouble. He attacked the two single-handed. A desperate battle
ensued, which lasted upward of an hour. The two rivermen punched,
kicked, and battered the Rough Red in a manner to tear his clothes,
deprive him to some extent of red whiskers, bloody his face, cut his
shoulder, and knock loose two teeth. The Rough Red, more than the equal
of either man singly, had reciprocated in kind. Orde, driving in toward
the rear from a detour to avoid a swamp, heard, and descended from his
buckboard. Tying his horses to trees, he made his way through the brush
to the scene of conflict. So winded and