i6 



HARDWOOD RECORD 



Night was shutting down in the moun- 

 tains. 



The cook-shanty of the logging camp on 

 the Big Laurel reverberated with the cheer- 

 ful clatter of tin cups set noisily on the 

 table, and the racket of knives and forks 

 against the heavy stoneware plates. There 

 was much good-natured raillery, which was 

 as rough as the hearty slap on the back 

 with which the brawny woodsmen punctu- 

 ated a sentence or pointed a joke. The 

 long day's work was over and the men were 

 eating the coarse fare with the gusto that 

 hunger brings to appetite. The day's cut 

 had been a big one, and each man secretly 

 rejoiced that his strength had made possi- 

 ble an aggregate accomplishment that 

 would make the "bunch" on the next job 

 over on Hell-Fer-Sartin creek "hump" 

 itself to surpass. 



Bill Anderson, whom the boys called 

 "Shorty," and proudly proclaimed that 

 "no lumber hick could beat him and Long 

 Tom when it came to felUn' a tree," was 

 unusually quiet, and consequently came in 

 for more than his share of the rough horse- 

 play and questionable jokes. 



"Shorty's gettin' mealy-mouthed," said 

 Big Pete. "The gray mare stepped on his 

 foot this mornin', and he never let out a 

 cuss-word. ' ' 



"Have you got religion, Shorty?" asked 

 Jim, the teamster. 



Shorty persisted in a good-humored si- 

 lence, although Long Tom looked at him a 

 little anxiously, as though rather expecting 

 an explosion. Just then the door was pushed 

 open and the tote-boy came in laden with 

 bundles and mail from town. Quite a num- 

 ber of the men were soon engrossed with 

 letters from home, and an occasional excla- 

 mation told of sadness or joy brought by 

 the missives. One by one, however, they 

 finished their letters and again began their 

 noisy eating and rough joking. All at once 

 someone noticed that Shorty was gazing 

 with rapt expression at a piece of cardboard 

 of the size and shape of a photograph. One 

 of the men reached over with a laugh and 

 grabbed it from Shorty's hand. 



"Did she send yer her picture. Shorty? 

 And does her hair look as red in the photo 

 as it does in the dinin'-room down at the 

 Mansion House?" chuckled Larry, the woods 

 boss. 



Instantly Shorty's eyes flashed, and he 

 snatched the picture back. "You go to 

 hell, d — n you!" he shouted with concen- 

 trated rage. Then he looked at Long Tom 

 with absolute terror as he murmured to 

 himself, "There, I've broke my promise— 

 I've gone back on my word!" 



Long Tom leaned over and said, as he 

 took the card from Shorty 's trembling hand, 

 "Boys, you've made a mistake! This is 

 Shorty's kid." And he passed the smiling 

 child-face about the table. It was taken 

 reverently and one or ' two were seen to 

 brush away a tear as they passed it 02, for 

 Shorty 's baby was known to be Shorty 's 

 all. Her mother died in giving her birtli, 

 and last year when she was six Shorty ha 1 

 brought her up to camp. Every lumber 

 jack on the job became her adoring slave 

 at once. 



"How she's growed!" "Ain't she 

 pretty, though?" "Bless her little face!" 

 and other admiring remarks failed to have 

 any effect on Shorty, who sat, the picijire 



SHORTY'S KID. 



of despair, only opening his mouth to hope- 

 lessly ejaculate, "He kept His word like a 

 gentleman, and I broke mine like a black- 

 guard!" 



"Never mind, Shorty," whispered Long 

 Tom, "He'll know you didn't mean it." 



"That don't make no diff'rence," an- 

 swered Shorty doggedly, "I give my word 

 and I've gone back on't." 



"What's the matter; Shorty? What 're 

 you belly-achin' aboiit?''' asked the man 

 who had joked him about the waitress. 



"Shut up, you son of a sea-cock," said 

 Long Tom, with an anxious look at Shorty. 



"No," said Shorty, answering the look, 

 "I won't do it agin, but if that pie-faced 

 galoot across the table don't stop buttin' 

 in, I'll smash his face for him." 



The other man looked more startled than 

 angry and said, "I was only jokin', Shorty; 

 what 's the matter with you lately, any- 

 way? From the cussinest gazaboo aroun' 

 the camp you've got to be the dumbest. 



Why, I ain 't heard you swear in months 

 till j'ou ripped 'em out at me tonight!" 



"That's just it, boys," answered Shorty. 

 "I've broke my word and I'm goin' to tell 

 you about it, and I want you to teU me on 

 the square if you think He will overlook it. 

 He was straight goods all through, and I 

 guess I'm a yaller dog." He ended with 

 a sigh. 



"Tell 'em about it. Shorty," said Long 

 Tom, as he picked up the photograph and 

 looked at it with a tender smile. 



' ' You know, boys, when I brought the 

 kid up to camp last winter" — there were 

 nods of assent all about the table — ' ' well, 

 ever since she could speak, that visit was 

 the one thing she talked about. You see 

 to the kiddie her dad is the biggest man 

 in the world, and to see him cut down a 

 tree was the dream of her life. She had 

 been promised the trip on her sixth birth- 

 day, and I fixed it up with the boss to let 

 me cut the big poplar on the North Fork. 

 Y'ou remember the tree — ^it was eight foot 

 six at the stump, and didn't have a limb 

 for a hundred feet. Boys, I wanted to 

 make a big play for the little gal, and so 

 Long Tom and me, we planned to fell it so 

 it would land in a smooth-bark hickory 

 and make regular fireworks for the kid. I 

 don't think she was any more fussed than 

 1 was that mornin'. I toted her to a safe 

 place and told her to stay there 'till I came 

 for her, and then Tom and me, after we cut 

 the kerf true, put the Eex cross-cut into 

 her. 



' ' For a few minits I forgot the baby, 

 but at the first crackle I glanced over to 

 where I'd left her. She was not there! 

 But lookin' round I saw her standin' plumb 

 under the hickory with a big bunch of pink 

 laurel in her arms." 



Shorty stopped to wipe the cold drops 

 tliat had sprung out on his forehead, and 

 there was a strange stillness as with bated 

 breath the men waited until he went on 

 somewhat haltingly: "You know, boys, 

 1 've swore all my life. Till lately to hear 

 me talk without cussin' would a' been a 

 surprise to you all. I knew in a minit that 

 nothin' I could do could save my baby, 

 and when the next rippin', tearin' sound 

 came, and the big tree begun to lean, it 

 seemed to pull ray heart out. Jes then I 

 heard a little laugh and the kid called, 'Is 

 it goin' to fall now, daddy?' I tell you, 

 boys, thoughts come quick at times like 

 that, and I found myself sayin', 'God, I'm 

 'shamed to say it — I don't know you very 

 well, but you know me all right enough — 

 won't you save the kid fer me? She's all 

 I 've got, and you must have a lot of other 



