he men of the sea have a chantey when they heave at a capstan, so
these men of the river had their chorus; it floated to her over the
quiet flood.

Come, all, and riffle the ledges! Come, all, and bust the jam!
And for aught o' the bluff of the Comas gang we don't give one
good--
Hoot, toot and a hoorah!
We don't give a tinker's dam!

"That's exactly how they feel, miss," said the old man. "They're on
their way. They can't be stopped."

But the declaration depressed rather than cheered her. Those men had
taken up her cause valiantly and with single-hearted purpose, and she
was obliged to assume responsibility for what they had done and what
they would do to force the situation at Skulltree. In the rush of the
drive, with the logs running free, the river was open to all and
Latisan's task was in the course of fulfillment and the Flagg fortunes
were having fair opportunity in the competition. But now competition
must become warfare, so it seemed. She shrank from that responsibility,
but she could not evade it--could not command those devoted men to stop
with the job half finished.

The priest's promise to find Latisan had been living with her, consoling
the hours of her waiting. Her load had become so heavy that her yearning
for Latisan's return had become desperate and anguished.

The slow drag of the logs in the deadwater gave her time for pondering
and she was afraid of her thoughts.

She was not accusing Latisan of being an inexcusable recreant where duty
was concerned; she was understanding in better fashion the men and the
manners of the north country and she realized the full force of the
reasons for his flight and why the situation had overwhelmed him. Her
pity and remorse had been feeding her love.

But the priest had promised. Latisan must know. Why did he not come to
her and lift the dreadful burden in her extremity?

Old Vittum, sitting on a bleached trunk among the dry kye stranded on
the shore, plucked slowly the spills of a pine tassel, staring down
between his knees. "You've seen how they have worked, miss, for every
ounce that's in 'em. But I don't know how they'll fight if they don't
have a real captain--a single head to plan--the right man to lead off.
Latisan's that! Half of 'em came north because they figured on him. I've
been hoping. But I'm sort of giving up."

"I don't like to hear you say that," she cried. "As soon as he knows the
truth he will com