its riotous, "Whoop fa la larry, lo day!" came
floating back to Sunkhaze long after the great sail had merged itself
with the silvery radiance of the brilliant surface of the lake.

"Apparently there's other folks as have new schemes of travellin' acrost
Spinnaker Lake," observed the postmaster, breaking a long silence in
the group of spectators. "Wal, I did all I could to post him on what he
might expect when Gid Ward got his temper good an' started. It's too bad
to see that property dumped that way, tho."

"Ain't Gid Ward ever goin' to suffer for any of his actions?" demanded
Parker's foreman, disgustedly.

"What are we goin' to do?" bleated another man.

"I'll write a letter to the high sheriff," said the postmaster, and then
he added, bitterly, "an' he'll prob'ly wait till it's settled goin' in
the spring, same's he did when we sent down that complaint about Ward's
men wreckin' Johnson's store. An' by that time he'll forget all about
comin'. Talk about kings and emperors! If we hain't got one on West
Branch waters, then you can brand me for a liar with one of my own date
stamps."

Parker maintained grim silence as he lay on the sled. No one spoke to
him. The men were too busy with songs and rough jests over the business
of the evening. The engineer would not confess to himself that he was
frightened, but the wantonness and alacrity with which the irresponsible
men had destroyed valuable property impressed him with ominous
apprehension of what they might do to him. He wondered what revenge
Connick was meditating.

It was a strange and tedious ride for the young man. The woodsmen sat
jammed so closely about him that he could see only the frosty stars
glimmering wanly in the moonlight. When the songs and the roaring
conversations were stilled for a moment, he could hear the lisp of the
runners on the smooth surface and the slashing grind of the iron-clad
peavey-sticks.

Although the bodies of his neighbors had kept the cold blast from him,
he staggered on his numb feet when they untied his bonds at Poquette
and ordered him to get off the sled. Connick came along and gazed on the
young man grimly while they were freeing him.

"Aha, my bantam!" he growled.

Parker braced himself to meet a blow. He felt that the giant would now
take satisfactory vengeance for the discomfiture he had suffered before
his men at Sunkhaze. Connick raised his hand, that in its big mitten
seemed like a cloud against the moon, and bro