Cardigan. Pray be seated."
Bryce seated himself. "Well, we lumbermen are a low lot and naturally
fond of dissipation," he agreed. "I fear Miss Sumner's Prohibition
tendencies will be still further strengthened after she has seen the
mad-train."
"What is that?" Shirley queried.
"The mad-train runs over your uncle's logging railroad up into
Township Nine, where his timber and ours is located. It is the only
train operated on Sunday, and it leaves Sequoia at five p.m. to carry
the Pennington and Cardigan crews back to the woods after their
Saturday-night celebration in town. As a usual thing, all hands, with
the exception of the brakeman, engineers, and fireman, are singing,
weeping or fighting drunk."
"But why do you provide transportation for them to come to town
Saturday nights?" Shirley protested.
"They ride in on the last trainload of logs, and if we didn't let
them do it, they'd ask for their time. It's the way of the gentle
lumberjack. And of course, once they get in, we have to round them up
on Sunday afternoon and get them back on the job. Hence the mad-
train."
"Do they fight, Mr. Cardigan?"
"Frequently. I might say usually. It's quite an inspiring sight to
see a couple of lumberjacks going to it on a flat-car travelling
thirty miles an hour.
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