Read Online Slocum 428 by Jake Logan - Free Book Online

He knew he had to see this thing through. He was no quitter.
    Never had been, and wasn’t about to start now. Just because a bunch of burly loggers were too busy grousing about what was happening to them to solve the problem for themselves didn’t mean he had to toss in the towel and let them get to him.
    No sir, thought Slocum as he stood and carried his bowl, spoon, and cup to the huge copper cauldron beside the stove into which Frenchy was tossing the dirty dishes.
    â€œFrenchy,” said Slocum in a voice loud enough for everyone in the place to hear. “I guess it’s just about as perfect a day as any to get some work done, don’t you think?”
    â€œSure, sure Slocum,” said the cook, looking a bit confused at Slocum’s sudden loud utterance.
    That was more for me than anyone else, thought Slocum. Got to make sure they don’t get to me.
    But all these hours later, after they’d gotten to the woodlot they were working, a couple of miles northwest of the main camp, the boss, Jigger’s right-hand man, guessed Slocum, who it turned out was Ned, his erstwhile chum from the night before, had brought him quite a distance from the main group.
    â€œI need these six trees limbed out by lunch.” He looked at Slocum. “Or no lunch. You got me?”
    â€œYep,” said Slocum. He was happy to play the silly games for as long as he needed to. As long as there was a chit for pay at the end of this deal, he’d do whatever tasks they set him to.
    Slocum didn’t wait for him to try to explain away whatever it was he wasn’t telling Slocum, but instead set right to work. Limbing was a good, if mindless, task for him. He’d done plenty of it in the past and knew enough to get the job done in a decent time frame. Certainly by midday.
    â€œAnything else?”
    â€œThat’s enough,” said Ned, already heading back down the trail that led to the rest of the crew. He offered a halfhearted one-handed wave over his shoulder, a stream of pipe smoke following him back down the trail.
    Slocum set to his task. The day was coming off mild, and the sun was a high, bright spot in a clear sky. It was the first fully blue day he’d seen in a week, and the day’s warmth filtered down, reaching him in the newly made clearing. Soon he had worked up a full head of steam, chips flying from the gleaming blade of the double-bit axe assigned to him. He’d also been loaned a pair of stout spiked boots to help keep him atop the massive felled trees’ rough hides while he swung his axe first left, then right, lopping off endless branches to make the tree into an enormous log.
    He wasn’t sure how many hours had passed by the time he stopped for a long, much-needed drink from his canteen. The woods in full sun were still somewhat dark among the massive trunks, but the ghostly mounds and rolling scape of snow reflected the increasing sunlight and gave the quiet forest an odd, yet comforting glow.
    For a while at least, he thought. Until dark comes, then this place will probably echo with the shrieks of whatever it is that lurks out here.
    And that was when he heard the far-off, but drawing closer, sound of . . . someone singing? And not from the direction of the crew. Who could it be? Another logger working at limbing even farther up the valley than him? He held his hand over his eyes and squinted upslope, using spotting skills he’d employed many times in locating bighorn sheep and mountain goats, deer and wolves far away on hillsides and in terrain similarly riddled with rocks, trees, and blow-downs.
    There was a shape, definitely human, moving slowly in his direction. Whoever it was looked to be making a beeline for him, and would reach him in minutes. He had cooled sufficiently that he pulled on his wool button-down shirt back over his tight longhandles. Wouldn’t do to catch a lung disorder out in the wilds like this. One cough could lead to