e's a bether man thin th' boss,
an' he'll not be layin' that lickin' up ag'in yez. 'Twas a foight av
his own pickin', an' he knows ye've got him faded.

"Aven av he w'ud of befoor, he'll see to ut that no har-rm comes to ye
now t'rough fault av his own, fer well he knows the men 'ud think 'twas
done to pay ye back, an' he'll have no wish to play th' title role at a
hangin'.

"From now on, 'tis only Moncrossen ye'll have to watch, fer ye're in
good wid th' men. We undershtand ye now. Ye see, in th' woods we don't
loike myshtery an', whiles we most av us know that Moncrossen's givin'
Appleton th' double cross, 'tis none av our business, an' phwin we
thoucht ye'd come into th' woods undher false pretinces to catch um at
ut, they was more or less talk.

"Mesilf was beginnin' to think ye'd come into th' woods fer th' rist
cure, ye read about in th' papers, seein' ye'd loafed about fer maybe
it's foive hours an' done nothin' besides carve up th' werwolf an' her
pack, eye down th' boss in his own grub-shack, an' thin top off th'
avenin' be knockin' th' big Swede cold, which some claims he c'ud put
th' boss himself to th' brush, wunst he got shtar-rted. But now we know
phy ye're here. We're pr-roud ye're wan av us."

"What do you mean--you know why I am here? I am here because I needed a
job, and Appleton hired me."

"Sure, lad. But, ye moind th' picture in yer pocket. 'Twas a woman."

"But----"

"'Tis none av our business, an' 'tis nayther here nor there. Av there's
a woman at th' bottom av ut, 'tis rayson enough--phwativer happens."

Bill laughed.

"You were going to tell me about the bird's-eye," he reminded.

"Ut's loike this: Here an' yon in th' timber there's a bird's-eye
tree--bird's-eye maple, ye know. 'Tis scarce enough, wid only a tree
now an' again, an' ut takes an expert to spot ut.

"Well, th' bird's-eye brings around a hundred dollars a thousan', an'
divil a bit av ut gits to Appleton's mills.

"Moncrossen's got a gang--Shtromberg's in ut, an' a Frinch cruiser
named Lebolt, an' a boot-leggin' tree-spotter named Creed, that lives
in Hilarity, an' a couple av worthless divils av sawyers that's too
lazy fer honest wor-rk, but camps t'rough th' winter, trappin' an
sawin' bird's-eye an calico ash on other men's land.

"Shtromberg'll skid till along toward sphring phwin he'll go to
teamin'. Be that toime th' bird's-eye logs'll be down, here an' there
in th' woods beyant th' choppin's, an' Shtromberg'll h