CHAPTER IX DALE AND OWEN SPEAK THEIR MIND Dale and Baptiste Ducrot did not meet until two hours later, when the young lumberman was sent to a tool house to get a new ax. They came face to face, and each stared hardly at the other. Ducrot seemed on the point of passing on, but then changed his mind. "Hah! so you work dis place?" he said, his eyes searching Dale's features keenly. "Yes, I work here," was the cold answer. "What is that to you?" At this Baptiste Ducrot shrugged his lean shoulders. "I not care, no, so long you not take my job." "I don't want your job!" exclaimed Dale angrily. "You keep your distance and leave me alone, and I'll leave you alone." At this the French-Canadian muttered something under his breath in his own tongue. "I not afraid of you," he added, in English. "And I'm not afraid of you. If you try any of your dirty work again you'll be sorry for it," went on Dale, and then passed into the tool house on his errand. At first Baptiste Ducrot was on the point of arguing further. But then he saw Owen approaching, and he slouched away through the snow, his head bent low and a wicked look on his face. "I see you've met him," said Owen, on coming up. "What did he say?" "Not much, Owen. What can he say?" "Did you mention the horse?" "No; I am going to follow Mr. Paxton's advice and lie low." "You be careful that he doesn't play you foul, Dale. When I get the chance I'll warn him to keep his distance." "Oh, Owen; I don't want you to get into trouble on my account," cried Dale impulsively. "Isn't this difficulty mine as well as yours?" came quickly from the older of the pair. "Haven't we sworn to be chums through thick and thin?" "Yes, I know, but----" "If he knows there are two of us watching him he'll be more careful, Dale. I really think he's a coward at heart." Several days went by before Owen got the chance he wanted. Late one afternoon he found Ducrot working in a bunch of spruces and was directed to cut down a tree near by. As he worked the French-Canadian shifted the swing of his ax in such a manner that the chips flew close to Owen, one hitting him in the neck. "You go slow there, Ducrot!" cried Owen, stopping work at once. "I no do not'ing," muttered the man. "I no like you holler at me." "Stop sending your chips this way. If you don't there will be trouble, and you'll get the worst of it." "Hah!" "I mean what I say, and now I want you to listen to me." Owen come closer, ax in hand. "I haven't forgotten the way you treated Dale Bradford." "I not care for dat boy." "I know you don't. What I want to say is, after this keep your hands off of him. If you don't, I'll have you run out of this camp in jig time." "You fight me?" demanded the French-Canadian, clutching his ax nervously. "I can fight if it comes to it," answered the young lumberman grimly.