This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1919 edition. Excerpt: ... CHAPTER VI THE I. W. W. SHOWS ITS HAND "/HANGED yer job?" inquired Saginaw Ed, sleepily a few mornings later when Connie slipped quietly from his bunk and lighted the oil lamp. "Not yet," smiled the boy. "Why?' "No one but teamsters gits up at this time of night--you got an hour to sleep yet." "This ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1919 edition. Excerpt: ... CHAPTER VI THE I. W. W. SHOWS ITS HAND "/HANGED yer job?" inquired Saginaw Ed, sleepily a few mornings later when Connie slipped quietly from his bunk and lighted the oil lamp. "Not yet," smiled the boy. "Why?' "No one but teamsters gits up at this time of night--you got an hour to sleep yet." "This is the first day of the season, and I'm going out and get a deer." Saginaw laughed: "Oh, yer goin' out an' git a deer--jest like rollin' off a log! You might's well crawl back in bed an' wait fer a snow. Deer huntin' without snow is like fishin' without bait--you might snag onto one, but the chances is all again' it." "Bet I'll kill a deer before I get back," laughed the boy. "Better pack up yer turkey an' fix to stay a long time then," twitted Saginaw. "But, I won't bet--it would be like stealin'--an' besides, I lost one bet on you a'ready." The teamsters, their lanterns swinging, were straggling toward the stable as the boy crossed the clearing. "Hey, w'at you gon keel, de bear-cat?" called Frenchy. "Deer," answered Connie with a grin. "Ho! She ain' no good for hont de deer! She too mooch no snow. De groun' she too mooch dry. De deer, she hear you comin' wan mile too queek, den she ron way ver' fas', an' you no kin track heem." "Never mind about that," parried the boy, "I'll be in tonight, and in the morning you can go out and help me pack in the meat." "A'm help you breeng in de meat, a'ri. Ba Goss! A'm lak A'm git to bite me on chonk dat venaison." Connie proceeded as rapidly as the darkness would permit to the shore of a marshy lake some three or four miles from camp, and secreted himself behind a windfall, thirty yards from the trail made by the deer in going down to drink. Just at daybreak a slight sound attracted his attention, and...
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