of the French-Canadian. "I tol' M'sieur Sexton she cannot fight
M'sieur Cardigan and win," he said simply, "Now mebbe he believe that
Jules Rondeau know somet'ing."

"Shut up," Sexton roared petulantly. Rondeau shrugged contemptuously,
turned, and with a sweep of his great arm indicated to his men that
they were to go; then, without a backward glance to see that they
followed, the woods-boss strode away in the direction of the Laguna
Grande mill. Arrived at the mill-office, he entered, took down the
telephone, and called up Shirley Sumner.

"Mademoiselle," he said, "Jules Rondeau speaks to you. I have for you
zee good news. Bryce Cardigan, she puts in the crossing to-day. One
man of the law she comes from San Francisco with papers, and M'sieur
Sexton say to me: 'Rondeau, we are whip'. Deesmess your men.' So I
have deesmess doze men, and now I deesmess myself. Mebbeso bimeby I
go to work for M'sieur Cardigan. For Mademoiselle I have no weesh to
make trouble to fire me. I queet. I will not fight dose dirty fight
some more. Au revoir, mademoiselle. I go."

And without further ado he hung up.

"What's this, what's this?" Sexton demanded. "You re going to quit?
Nonsense, Rondeau, nonsense!"

"I will have my time, M'sieur," said Jules Rondeau. "I go to work for
a man. Mebbeso I am not woods-boss for heem, but--I work."

"You'll have to wait until the Colonel returns, Rondeau."