Vancouver Ch.# XXXI "entering the lion's den" part II

Tuesday morning woke them with the pine scent, the acrid tickle of sawdust in their noses and the musical sonata of the whooperwills in their ears. They dressed and headed over to the mess tent. Bacon, beans and potatoes with coffee got them started.

            At the site, Jim mixed up a fresh batch of mortar.

            “The cement floor has set up nice and smooth Ian,” said Jim. “No storm is ever going to rock that foundation.”

 

            They then set out laying bricks around the building in a third row of bricks that was just above the earthen base. A fourth row and a fifth row soon followed.

             “Let’s get a sandwich and coffee for lunch Ian,” said Jim.

              After lunch, they laid a sixth, seventh and eighth concourse of bricks. The job was almost done.

             “Let’s walk around this wall and smooth over any excess mortar or imperfections,” said Jim. “It looks pretty good to me.”

              “It does,” said Ian. “With all of the work we put into this wall, it should look pretty good.”

               “We have a few hours of daylight left,” said Jim. “I would like to dig a shallow trench along each of the side walls. Hank’s men can then buy an adobe pipe, cut it in half and lay it in the trenches for drainage.”

               “Good idea Jim,” said Ian. “Let’s get it done.”

               The sun was just starting to set over the bay when the brothers finished.  “I think we are done brother,” said Jim. “Let’s wash up and head over for dinner.”

              In the tent, steak, potatoes and beans awaited them with strong coffee. They dug in like starving dogs at a meat wagon. Jim looked up when they were done. This time, he saw Andy Coggins. Coggins made a fist at him.

              “Best we get going Ian,” said Jim. “Before the natives get restless. That fat slob Coggins finally noticed us.”

              Slowly, the brothers got up, washed their tins and headed outside.

               “No sense avoiding this,” said Jim. “Let’s stand over by the site and see what happens.”

                Sure enough, Coggins and three other loggers came walking across the yard. Each held an axe handle.

               “Here they come,” said Ian. “What is our play Jim?” asked Ian.

                 Jim picked up their metal trowels and handed one to Ian.

               “You see that loud mouth Coggins on the right?” asked Jim.  “He is walking with a limp that I gave him. When he gets near us, you hit that knee with everything you’ve got. He will go down like a gut-shot Moose. Then, kick him in the head so he doesn’t get up. I will hit that lad, on the right, in the head with this metal trowel. He won’t wake up until tomorrow. Then, we back up quickly and get ready for the other two.”

 

            Coggins and his pals approached, with evil grins on their faces. 

            “Time to pay the piper, Mac Adams,” he said.

            Just then, a very loud and immediately recognizable voice said loudly, “Stop right there, you sons of bitches. Don’t take another step.”

              Mr. Henry Phelan, company owner stepped up and faced the men. “Did I not tell you sons of bitches to stop this foolishness?” he asked.

              The men looked at their boots and said nothing.

              “Did I not tell you?” said Hank Phelan, in a louder voice.

               The men mumbled their acknowledgement.

               “If you ever again raise your hand or your voice to these two lads, I will not only fire you, I will personally kick your ass and throw you into the Bay. Now, get back to the bunkhouse, you have work in the morning,” said Hank. The men acknowledged with a “yes, sir” and then slunk off to their bunkhouse.

                   Hank Phelan, shook his head, shrugged his shoulders and said, “Sorry about that, Jim, Ian. I told them I wouldn’t stand for any more of that foolishness. Now, I have to fire all of them.”

                   “Don’t do it for our account,“ said Jim. “We were just getting ready to whup their butts.”

                    Hank looked surprised and then smiled and said, “I bet you were. I just bet you were. But, it isn’t just because they were rude to guests of mine that I have to let them go. I am alone here in these woods, with forty to fifty rough and tumble roustabouts. We are  several hours away from any help for me,  except for that of my own long guns. If I don’t have iron discipline here at the camp, some day they might come for me. Now why don’t we all get some sleep. It has been a long day and I am sure we are all tired.”

              “Good night Hank,” said both the brothers. They walked back to their tent.

                “Well, that was a close one,” said Ian.

                 “Close for them, you mean,” said Jim. “I think we would have whipped their butts, just like we did the last two times.”

                 “Maybe,” said Ian with a smile. ”But at least it is over with that Coggins fellow.”

                 “With men like Andy Coggins, it won’t ever be over until he is dead or we are,” said Jim.

                 “We will have to be ready for him the next time he comes at us,” said Ian.

                 “Aye, we will Ian,” said Jim. “We had better find out who his next of kin is. The next time he comes at us, will be his last,” said Jim icily. They slept like old logs in a swamp.

                Wednesday morning wakened them like the preceding two days had, with a whooperwill concert and the mixed smell of pine and sawdust.

                They collected their gear and walked over to the mess tent. Hank Phelan was having coffee with two of his men. He waved them over. “Lads,” he said to his two men, “ These two fine workmen are the Mac Adams brothers. They are the finest workmen in the business.”

 

                “Thanks for that, Hank.” said Jim. “We will get some food and join you if you are free,” asked Jim.

                 “I am,” said Hank. The brothers loaded up their plates got some coffee and sat down.

                  “You feed your men well,” said Ian.

                   “I do,” said Hank. “They work hard for me all day, swinging an axe in the forest. They need that food to keep them fueled up.”

                    “I think we are finished with the job, Hank,” said Jim. “Is there anything else you need from us?”

                     “No, I looked over your work this morning. You have done a fine job. When I can get a couple carpenters in here, we will build a super-structure on that foundation.” said Hank.

                     “We have dug out drainage runnels along the sides of the building, Hank,” said Jim.” I would suggest that your men get a hundred feet of adobe pipe from a supplier. Your skill saw can cut it in half. They can then lay it in the bottom of each runnel, cover it with wire mesh and bury them in dirt. These French drains will collect and carry off any surface water that collects during the rainy seasons. You will never have a problem with the foundations.”

                     “Great suggestions Jim,” said Hank. He then handed them an envelope with their payment. “My Thanks to you both for all of your hard work. I will recommend you to every businessman man I deal with,” said Hank.

                      “Thanks, Hank. It has been a pleasure dealing with you.” said Jim.

                      “You lads better get going,” said Hank. “That ferry leaves early. I had Ken Timmons saddle up horses for you. The ride will be quicker.”

                      “Thanks for that Hank,” said Jim. They shook hands with Hank and bid him good health.

                        Outside, Ken Timmons handed them the reins to their horses. He mounted his and said.” This way Mr. Mac Adams.” They mounted their horses and rode off into the forest at a mild trot. All around them the dark pine trees seemed to close them in. It really was in the middle of nowhere out here. An hour later, they rode into Nanaimo. They dismounted and handed the reins to Ken Timmons. 

                       “Thanks, Ken,” said Jim.

                       “My pleasure Mr. Mac Adams,” he said pleasantly. Then he waved and rode back int the forest.

                        There wasn’t much here in Nanaimo but a pier, a general store and a few modest log cabins. They walked over to the Ferry and boarded her. Jim started to pay their fares but the Ferry Captain stopped him.

                      “You are guests of Mr. Phelan. He has taken care of your fares. Welcome aboard.”

                        “The man is good to his friends, “ said Jim.

                         “He is that,” said Ian. “I have a feeling that the work we did for him will pay off many times in the future.”

                          The brothers sat down in the benches on the aft deck. More freight and only a few passengers joined them.

                          Jim looked in the envelope that Hank had handed to him. Staring up at him were crisp Canadian bills, totaling $300, with a note that said “Thanks for good service.”

                        Jim smiled and said “The man has over paid us, Bless him.”

                       The brothers settled back and their eyes closed. The ferry motored  back along the shores of the Bay of Georgia and across the Juan De Fucha Strait, and into Victoria harbor. 

                       The noise of arriving passengers and freight coming on and off the boat wakened the brothers.

                       “Just a few more hours and we will be home,” said Jim.

                       “Aye, “said Ian. ”Do you think we might have time to stop over at Lowry’s for breakfast in the morning?” asked Ian.

                       “Brother Ian,” said Jim. “We have the rest of our lives to do whatever we wish. Breakfast in the morning and seeing the lovely and future Mrs. Mac Adams would be a good start for any day.”

 

                                                           -30-

                                                 ( 2,690 words)

                                            Joseph Xavier Martin