Hunch, on receiving the message, went up to Herve's saloon, and while standing at the bar, let his eyes rove about the room until they settled on a lank, middle-aged man in the corner. “Hello, Herm Peabody.” “Hello, Hunch.” “What you doing in these parts?” “Come up to see my niece--Joe Cartier's wife.” “Busy nowadays?” “No, ain't picked up anything for the winter yet.” “What would you think of taking a trip with me?” “The Dean?” “Yes.” “A little late for schooners, ain't it?” “Not in this weather, no. It's only a little trip-up to Manistee.” “Well, this ain't been a very flush season, Hunch, and I s'pose I ought to take it.” “Can you come right along? I'd like to overhaul her a little and run up there this afternoon. If they're reasonable quick about loading, we can get right back.” A few hours later Hunch ran her out between the piers, with Peabody up forward, and pointed north-east-by-north to clear Big Point Sable. The breeze was light, and it was not until six o'clock that evening that the _Dean_ ran into the harbor at Manistee. Hunch promptly looked up the lumberman. “How are you, Badeau. You came right up.” “Yes, I did.” “We'll put that timber aboard the first thing in the morning.” “You can't do it to-night, then?” “Oh, hardly.” Mr. Jackson glanced out at the starlit sky. “You don't think there's any doubt about the weather, do you?” “Maybe not. But if I could get it aboard now, I'd start right back. We know we're all right to-night.” The lumberman's supper awaited him; his men had scattered to their homes. He glanced again at the sky, then said, “The morning 'll do, I guess.” “Well, it's just this way, Mr. Jackson. I made you the offer to take this load down, but I don't feel like running any more risk than I have to.” “If you see anything to worry you in that sky, Badeau, you can just let us run the risk.” The thermometer dropped twenty-five degrees during the night. A film of ice formed in the harbor. The wind swung around to the northeast, and brought a bank of innocent looking clouds that spread slowly over the sky. Out on the lake front the shore ice grew higher and whiter as the waves beat tirelessly over it, and formed blocks and cones and miniature mountain ranges. When Jackson met Hunch on the wharf, he seemed to have forgotten what he had said the evening before. “Well, Badeau, what do you make of it?” “Of what?” “The weather. Think you can make it?” “Yes, I think so.” “You ought to have gone out last night.” To this Hunch made no reply; he kept one eye on the work of the timber shovers. “Still,” added Jackson, “you can run down in two or three hours with this wind.” A little later Hunch joined Peabody by the wheel. “Do you know of a good man here, Herm?” “For the schooner, you mean?” “Yes.” “Why--I'll see if I can pick up Duke Buckingham.” “Go ahead. Tell him we're short-handed.”