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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Valley of the Giants, by Peter B. Kyne
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Valley of the Giants
+
+Author: Peter B. Kyne
+
+
+Release Date: May, 2004 [EBook #5735]
+This file was first posted on August 18, 2002
+Last Updated: July 4, 2013
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VALLEY OF THE GIANTS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE VALLEY OF THE GIANTS
+
+By Peter B. Kyne
+
+Author of Cappy Ricks, The Long Chance, Etc.
+
+Illustrated by Dean Cornwell
+
+
+
+
+TO MY WIFE
+
+
+
+
+THE VALLEY OF THE GIANTS
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+In the summer of 1850 a topsail schooner slipped into the cove under
+Trinidad Head and dropped anchor at the edge of the kelp-fields. Fifteen
+minutes later her small-boat deposited on the beach a man armed with
+long squirrel-rifle and an axe, and carrying food and clothing in a
+brown canvas pack. From the beach he watched the boat return and saw the
+schooner weigh anchor and stand out to sea before the northwest trades.
+When she had disappeared from his ken, he swung his pack to his broad
+and powerful back and strode resolutely into the timber at the mouth of
+a little river.
+
+The man was John Cardigan; in that lonely, hostile land he was the first
+pioneer. This is the tale of Cardigan and Cardigan's son, for in his
+chosen land the pioneer leader in the gigantic task of hewing a path for
+civilization was to know the bliss of woman's love and of parenthood,
+and the sorrow that comes of the loss of a perfect mate; he was to know
+the tremendous joy of accomplishment and worldly success after infinite
+labour; and in the sunset of life he was to know the dull despair of
+failure and ruin. Because of these things there is a tale to be told,
+the tale of Cardigan's son, who, when his sire fell in the fray, took up
+the fight to save his heritage--a tale of life with its love and hate,
+its battle, victory, defeat, labour, joy, and sorrow, a tale of that
+unconquerable spirit of youth which spurred Bryce Cardigan to lead a
+forlorn hope for the sake not of wealth but of an ideal. Hark, then, to
+this tale of Cardigan's redwoods:
+
+Along the coast of California, through the secret valleys and over the
+tumbled foothills of the Coast Range, extends a belt of timber of an
+average width of thirty miles. In approaching it from the Oregon line
+the first tree looms suddenly against the horizon--an outpost, as it
+were, of the host of giants whose column stretches south nearly four
+hundred miles to where the last of the rear-guard maintains eternal
+sentry go on the crest of the mountains overlooking Monterey Bay. Far
+in the interior of the State, beyond the fertile San Joaquin Valley, the
+allies of this vast army hold a small sector on the west slope of the
+Sierras.
+
+These are the redwood forests of California, the only trees of their
+kind in the world and indigenous only to these two areas within the
+State. The coast timber is known botanically as sequoia sempervirens,
+that in the interior as sequoia gigantea. As the name indicates, the
+latter is the larger species of the two, although the fibre of the
+timber is coarser and the wood softer and consequently less valuable
+commercially than the sequoia sempervirens--which in Santa Cruz, San
+Mateo, Marin, and Sonoma counties has been almost wholly logged off,
+because of its accessibility. In northern Mendocino, Humboldt, and Del
+Norte counties, however, sixty years of logging seems scarcely to have
+left a scar upon this vast body of timber. Notwithstanding sixty years
+of attrition, there remain in this section of the redwood belt thousands
+upon thousands of acres of virgin timber that had already attained
+a vigorous growth when Christ was crucified. In their vast, sombre
+recesses, with the sunlight filtering through their branches two hundred
+and fifty feet above, one hears no sound save the tremendous diapason
+of the silence of the ages; here, more forcibly than elsewhere in the
+universe, is one reminded of the littleness of man and the glory of his
+creator.
+
+In sizes ranging from five to twenty feet in diameter, the brown trunks
+rise perpendicularly to a height of from ninety to a hundred and fifty
+feet before putting forth a single limb, which frequently is more
+massive than the growth which men call a tree in the forests of
+Michigan. Scattered between the giants, like subjects around their king,
+one finds noble fir, spruce, or pines, with some Valparaiso live oak,
+black oak, pepper-wood, madrone, yew, and cedar.
+
+In May and June, when the twisted and cowering madrone trees are putting
+forth their clusters of creamy buds, when the white blossoms of
+the dogwoods line the banks of little streams, when the azaleas and
+rhododendrons, lovely and delicate as orchids, blaze a bed of glory, and
+the modest little oxalis has thrust itself up through the brown carpet
+of pine-needles and redwood-twigs, these wonderful forests cast upon one
+a potent spell. To have seen them once thus in gala dress is to yearn
+thereafter to see them again and still again and grieve always in the
+knowledge of their inevitable death at the hands of the woodsman.
+
+John Cardigan settled in Humboldt County, where the sequoia sempervirens
+attains the pinnacle of its glory, and with the lust for conquest hot in
+his blood, he filed upon a quarter-section of the timber almost on the
+shore of Humboldt Bay--land upon which a city subsequently was to be
+built. With his double-bitted axe and crosscut saw John Cardigan brought
+the first of the redwood giants crashing to the earth above which it had
+towered for twenty centuries, and in the form of split posts, railroad
+ties, pickets, and shakes, the fallen giant was hauled to tidewater in
+ox-drawn wagons and shipped to San Francisco in the little two-masted
+coasting schooners of the period. Here, by the abominable magic of
+barter and trade, the dismembered tree was transmuted into dollars and
+cents and returned to Humboldt County to assist John Cardigan in his
+task of hewing an empire out of a wilderness.
+
+At a period in the history of California when the treasures of the
+centuries were to be had for the asking or the taking, John Cardigan
+chose that which others elected to cast away. For him the fertile wheat
+and fruit-lands of California's smiling valleys, the dull placer gold in
+her foot-hill streams, and the free grass, knee deep, on her cattle
+and sheep-ranges held no lure; for he had been first among the Humboldt
+redwoods and had come under the spell of the vastness and antiquity, the
+majesty and promise of these epics of a planet. He was a big man with a
+great heart and the soul of a dreamer, and in such a land as this it was
+fitting he should take his stand.
+
+In that wasteful day a timber-claim was not looked upon as valuable. The
+price of a quarter-section was a pittance in cash and a brief residence
+in a cabin constructed on the claim as evidence of good faith to a
+government none too exacting in the restrictions with which it hedged
+about its careless dissipation of the heritage of posterity. Hence,
+because redwood timber-claims were easy to acquire, many men acquired
+them; but when the lure of greener pastures gripped these men and
+the necessity for ready money oppressed, they were wont to sell their
+holdings for a few hundred dollars. Gradually it became the fashion
+in Humboldt to "unload" redwood timber-claims on thrifty, far-seeing,
+visionary John Cardigan who appeared to be always in the market for any
+claim worth while.
+
+Cardigan was a shrewd judge of stumpage; with the calm certitude of
+a prophet he looked over township after township and cunningly
+checkerboarded it with his holdings. Notwithstanding the fact that
+hillside timber is the best, John Cardigan in those days preferred to
+buy valley timber, for he was looking forward to the day when the timber
+on the watersheds should become available. He knew that when such timber
+should be cut it would have to be hauled out through the valleys where
+his untouched holdings formed an impenetrable barrier to the exit!
+Before long the owners of timber on the watersheds would come to realize
+this and sell to John Cardigan at a reasonable price.
+
+Time passed. John Cardigan no longer swung an axe or dragged a cross-cut
+saw through a fallen redwood. He was an employer of labour now, well
+known in San Francisco as a manufacturer of split-redwood products, the
+purchasers sending their own schooners for the cargo. And presently John
+Cardigan mortgaged all of his timber holdings with a San Francisco bank,
+made a heap of his winnings, and like a true adventurer staked his all
+on a new venture--the first sawmill in Humboldt County. The timbers for
+it were hewed out by hand; the boards and planking were whipsawed.
+
+It was a tiny mill, judged by present-day standards, for in a
+fourteen-hour working day John Cardigan and his men could not cut more
+than twenty thousand feet of lumber. Nevertheless, when Cardigan looked
+at his mill, his great heart would swell with pride. Built on tidewater
+and at the mouth of a large slough in the waters of which he stored the
+logs his woods-crew cut and peeled for the bull-whackers to haul with
+ox-teams down a mile-long skid-road, vessels could come to Cardigan's
+mill dock to load and lie safely in twenty feet of water at low tide.
+Also this dock was sufficiently far up the bay to be sheltered from the
+heavy seas that rolled in from Humboldt Bar, while the level land
+that stretched inland to the timber-line constituted the only logical
+townsite on the bay.
+
+"Here," said John Cardigan to himself exultingly when a long-drawn wail
+told him his circular saw was biting into the first redwood log to be
+milled since the world began, "I shall build a city and call it Sequoia.
+By to-morrow I shall have cut sufficient timber to make a start. First
+I shall build for my employees better homes than the rude shacks and
+tent-houses they now occupy; then I shall build myself a fine residence
+with six rooms, and the room that faces on the bay shall be the parlour.
+When I can afford it, I shall build a larger mill, employ more men, and
+build more houses. I shall encourage tradesmen to set up in business in
+Sequoia, and to my city I shall present a church and a schoolhouse. We
+shall have a volunteer fire department, and if God is good, I shall, at
+a later date, get out some long-length fir-timber and build a schooner
+to freight my lumber to market. And she shall have three masts instead
+of two, and carry half a million feet of lumber instead of two hundred
+thousand. First, however, I must build a steam tugboat to tow my
+schooner in and out over Humboldt Bar. And after that--ah, well! That is
+sufficient for the present."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+Thus did John Cardigan dream, and as he dreamed he worked. The city of
+Sequoia was born with the Argonaut's six-room mansion of rough redwood
+boards and a dozen three-room cabins with lean-to kitchens; and the
+tradespeople came when John Cardigan, with something of the largeness of
+his own redwood trees, gave them ground and lumber in order to encourage
+the building of their enterprises. Also the dream of the schoolhouse
+and the church came true, as did the steam tugboat and the schooner with
+three masts. The mill was enlarged until it could cut forty thousand
+feet on a twelve-hour shift, and a planer and machines for making rustic
+siding and tongued-and-grooved flooring and ceiling were installed. More
+ox-teams appeared upon the skid-road, which was longer now; the cry of
+"Timber-r-r!" and the thunderous roar of a falling redwood grew fainter
+and fainter as the forest receded from the bay shore, and at last the
+whine of the saws silenced these sounds forever in Sequoia.
+
+At forty John Cardigan was younger than most men at thirty, albeit he
+worked fourteen hours a day, slept eight, and consumed the remaining two
+at his meals. But through all those fruitful years of toil he had still
+found time to dream, and the spell of the redwoods had lost none of its
+potency. He was still checker-boarding the forested townships with his
+adverse holdings--the key-positions to the timber in back of beyond
+which some day should come to his hand. Also he had competition now:
+other sawmills dotted the bay shore; other three-masted schooners
+carried Humboldt redwood to the world beyond the bar, over which they
+were escorted by other and more powerful steam-tugs. This competition
+John Cardigan welcomed and enjoyed, however, for he had been first in
+Humboldt, and the townsite and a mile of tidelands fronting on deep
+water were his; hence each incoming adventurer merely helped his dream
+of a city to come true.
+
+At forty-two Cardigan was the first mayor of Sequoia. At forty-four he
+was standing on his dock one day, watching his tug kick into her berth
+the first square-rigged ship that had ever come to Humboldt Bay to load
+a cargo of clear redwood for foreign delivery. She was a big Bath-built
+clipper, and her master a lusty down-Easter, a widower with one daughter
+who had come with him around the Horn. John Cardigan saw this girl come
+up on the quarter-deck and stand by with a heaving-line in her hand;
+calmly she fixed her glance upon him, and as the ship was shunted in
+closer to the dock, she made the cast to Cardigan. He caught the light
+heaving-line, hauled in the heavy Manila stern-line to which it was
+attached, and slipped the loop of the mooring-cable over the dolphin at
+the end of the dock.
+
+"Some men wanted aft here to take up the slack of the stern-line on the
+windlass, sir," he shouted to the skipper, who was walking around on top
+of the house. "That girl can't haul her in alone."
+
+"Can't. I'm short-handed," the skipper replied. "Jump aboard and help
+her."
+
+Cardigan made a long leap from the dock to the ship's rail, balanced
+there lightly a moment, and sprang to the deck. He passed the bight of
+the stern-line in a triple loop around the drum of the windlass, and
+without awaiting his instructions, the girl grasped the slack of the
+line and prepared to walk away with it as the rope paid in on the
+windlass. Cardigan inserted a belaying-pin in the windlass, paused
+and looked at the girl. "Raise a chantey," he suggested. Instantly she
+lifted a sweet contralto in that rollicking old ballad of the sea--"Blow
+the Men Down."
+
+   For tinkers and tailors and lawyers and all,
+   Way! Aye! Blow the men down!
+   They ship for real sailors aboard the Black Ball,
+   Give me some time to blow the men down.
+
+Round the windlass Cardigan walked, steadily and easily, and the girl's
+eyes widened in wonder as he did the work of three powerful men. When
+the ship had been warped in and the slack of the line made fast on the
+bitts, she said:
+
+"Please run for'd and help my father with the bow-lines. You're worth
+three foremast hands. Indeed, I didn't expect to see a sailor on this
+dock."
+
+"I had to come around the Horn to get here, Miss," he explained, "and
+when a man hasn't money to pay for his passage, he needs must work it."
+
+"I'm the second mate," she explained. "We had a succession of gales from
+the Falklands to the Evangelistas, and there the mate got her in irons
+and she took three big ones over the taffrail and cost us eight men.
+Working short-handed, we couldn't get any canvas on her to speak
+of--long voyage, you know, and the rest of the crew got scurvy."
+
+"You're a brave girl," he told her.
+
+"And you're a first-class A. B.," she replied. "If you're looking for a
+berth, my father will be glad to ship you."
+
+"Sorry, but I can't go," he called as he turned toward the companion
+ladder. "I'm Cardigan, and I own this sawmill and must stay here and
+look after it."
+
+There was a light, exultant feeling in his middle-aged heart as he
+scampered along the deck. The girl had wonderful dark auburn hair and
+brown eyes, with a milk-white skin that sun and wind had sought in vain
+to blemish. And for all her girlhood she was a woman--bred from a race
+(his own people) to whom danger and despair merely furnished a tonic
+for their courage. What a mate for a man! And she had looked at him
+pridefully.
+
+They were married before the ship was loaded, and on a knoll of the
+logged-over lands back of the town and commanding a view of the bay,
+with the dark-forested hills in back and the little second-growth
+redwoods flourishing in the front yard, he built her the finest home in
+Sequoia. He had reserved this building-site in a vague hope that some
+day he might utilize it for this very purpose, and here he spent with
+her three wonderfully happy years. Here his son Bryce was born, and
+here, two days later, the new-made mother made the supreme sacrifice of
+maternity.
+
+For half a day following the destruction of his Eden John Cardigan sat
+dumbly beside his wife, his great, hard hand caressing the auburn head
+whose every thought for three years had been his happiness and comfort.
+Then the doctor came to him and mentioned the matter of funeral
+arrangements.
+
+Cardigan looked up at him blankly. "Funeral arrangements?" he murmured.
+"Funeral arrangements?" He passed his gnarled hand over his leonine
+head. "Ah, yes, I suppose so. I shall attend to it."
+
+He rose and left the house, walking with bowed head out of Sequoia, up
+the abandoned and decaying skid-road through the second-growth redwoods
+to the dark green blur that marked the old timber. It was May, and
+Nature was renewing herself, for spring comes late in Humboldt County.
+From an alder thicket a pompous cock grouse boomed intermittently; the
+valley quail, in pairs, were busy about their household affairs; from a
+clump of manzanita a buck watched John Cardigan curiously. On past the
+landing where the big bull donkey-engine stood (for with the march of
+progress, the logging donkey-engine had replaced the ox-teams, while the
+logs were hauled out of the woods to the landing by means of a mile-long
+steel cable, and there loaded on the flat-cars of a logging railroad
+to be hauled to the mill and dumped in the log-boom) he went, up the
+skid-road recently swamped from the landing to the down timber where
+the crosscut men and barkpeelers were at work, on into the green timber
+where the woods-boss and his men were chopping.
+
+"Come with me, McTavish," he said to his woods-boss. They passed through
+a narrow gap between two low hills and emerged in a long narrow valley
+where the redwood grew thickly and where the smallest tree was not
+less than fifteen feet in diameter and two hundred and fifty feet tall.
+McTavish followed at the master's heels as they penetrated this grove,
+making their way with difficulty through the underbrush until they came
+at length to a little amphitheatre, a clearing perhaps a hundred feet
+in diameter, oval-shaped and surrounded by a wall of redwoods of such
+dimensions that even McTavish, who was no stranger to these natural
+marvels, was struck with wonder. The ground in this little amphitheatre
+was covered to a depth of a foot with brown, withered little redwood
+twigs to which the dead leaves still clung, while up through this
+aromatic covering delicate maidenhair ferns and oxalis had thrust
+themselves. Between the huge brown boles of the redwoods woodwardia grew
+riotously, while through the great branches of these sentinels of the
+ages the sunlight filtered. Against the prevailing twilight of the
+surrounding forest it descended like a halo, and where it struck the
+ground John Cardigan paused.
+
+"McTavish," he said, "she died this morning."
+
+"I'm sore distressed for you, sir," the woods-boss answered. "We'd a
+whisper in the camp yesterday that the lass was like to be in a bad
+way."
+
+Cardigan scuffed with his foot a clear space in the brown litter. "Take
+two men from the section-gang, McTavish," he ordered, "and have them dig
+her grave here; then swamp a trail through the underbrush and out to the
+donkey-landing, so we can carry her in. The funeral will be private."
+
+McTavish nodded. "Any further orders, sir?"
+
+"Yes. When you come to that little gap in the hills, cease your logging
+and bear off yonder." He waved his hand. "I'm not going to cut the
+timber in this valley. You see, McTavish, what it is. The trees
+here--ah, man, I haven't the heart to destroy God's most wonderful
+handiwork. Besides, she loved this spot, McTavish, and she called the
+valley her Valley of the Giants. I--I gave it to her for a wedding
+present because she had a bit of a dream that some day the town I
+started would grow up to yonder gap, and when that time came and we
+could afford it, 'twas in her mind to give her Valley of the Giants to
+Sequoia for a city park, all hidden away here and unsuspected.
+
+"She loved it, McTavish. It pleased her to come here with me; she'd make
+up a lunch of her own cooking and I would catch trout in the stream by
+the dogwoods yonder and fry the fish for her. Sometimes I'd barbecue a
+venison steak and--well, 'twas our playhouse, McTavish, and I who am no
+longer young--I who never played until I met her--I--I'm a bit foolish,
+I fear, but I found rest and comfort here, McTavish, even before I
+met her, and I'm thinking I'll have to come here often for the same.
+She--she was a very superior woman, McTavish--very superior. Ah, man,
+the soul of her! I cannot bear that her body should rest in Sequoia
+cemetery, along with the rag tag and bobtail o' the town. She was like
+this sunbeam, McTavish. She--she--"
+
+"Aye," murmured McTavish huskily. "I ken. Ye wouldna gie her a common
+or a public spot in which to wait for ye. An' ye'll be shuttin' down
+the mill an' loggin'-camps an' layin' off the hands in her honour for a
+bit?"
+
+"Until after the funeral, McTavish. And tell your men they'll be paid
+for the lost time. That will be all, lad."
+
+When McTavish was gone, John Cardigan sat down on a small sugar-pine
+windfall, his head held slightly to one side while he listened to that
+which in the redwoods is not sound but rather the absence of it. And as
+he listened, he absorbed a subtle comfort from those huge brown trees,
+so emblematic of immortality; in the thought he grew closer to his
+Maker, and presently found that peace which he sought. Love such as
+theirs could never die... The tears came at last.
+
+At sundown he walked home bearing an armful of rhododendrons and dogwood
+blossoms, which he arranged in the room where she lay. Then he sought
+the nurse who had attended her.
+
+"I'd like to hold my son," he said gently. "May I?"
+
+She brought him the baby and placed it in his great arms that trembled
+so; he sat down and gazed long and earnestly at this flesh of his flesh
+and blood of his blood. "You'll have her hair and skin and eyes," he
+murmured. "My son, my son, I shall love you so, for now I must love for
+two. Sorrow I shall keep from you, please God, and happiness and worldly
+comfort shall I leave you when I go to her." He nuzzled his grizzled
+cheek against the baby's face. "Just you and my trees," he whispered,
+"just you and my trees to help me hang on to a plucky finish."
+
+For love and paternity had come to him late in life, and so had his
+first great sorrow; wherefore, since he was not accustomed to these
+heritages of all flesh, he would have to adjust himself to the change.
+But his son and his trees--ah, yes, they would help. And he would gather
+more redwoods now!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+A young half-breed Digger woman, who had suffered the loss of the latest
+of her numerous progeny two days prior to Mrs. Cardigan's death, was
+installed in the house on the knoll as nurse to John Cardigan's son whom
+he called Bryce, the family name of his mother's people. A Mrs.
+Tully, widow of Cardigan's first engineer in the mill, was engaged as
+housekeeper and cook; and with his domestic establishment reorganized
+along these simple lines, John Cardigan turned with added eagerness to
+his business affairs, hoping between them and his boy to salvage as
+much as possible from what seemed to him, in the first pangs of his
+loneliness and desolation, the wreckage of his life.
+
+While Bryce was in swaddling clothes, he was known only to those females
+of Sequoia to whom his half-breed foster mother proudly exhibited him
+when taking him abroad for an airing in his perambulator. With his
+advent into rompers, however, and the assumption of his American
+prerogative of free speech, his father developed the habit of bringing
+the child down to the mill office, to which he added a playroom that
+connected with his private office. Hence, prior to his second birthday,
+Bryce divined that his father was closer to him than motherly Mrs. Tully
+or the half-breed girl, albeit the housekeeper sang to him the lullabys
+that mothers know while the Digger girl, improvising blank verse paeans
+of praise and prophecy, crooned them to her charge in the unmusical
+monotone of her tribal tongue. His father, on the contrary, wasted no
+time in singing, but would toss him to the ceiling or set him astride
+his foot and swing him until he screamed in ecstasy. Moreover, his
+father took him on wonderful journeys which no other member of the
+household had even suggested. Together they were wont to ride to and
+from the woods in the cab of the logging locomotive, and once they both
+got on the log carriage in the mill with Dan Keyes, the head sawyer, and
+had a jolly ride up to the saw and back again, up and back again until
+the log had been completely sawed; and because he had refrained from
+crying aloud when the greedy saw bit into the log with a shrill whine,
+Dan Keyes had given him a nickel to put in his tin bank.
+
+Of all their adventures together, however, those which occurred on their
+frequent excursions up to the Valley of the Giants impressed themselves
+imperishably upon Bryce's memory. How well he remembered their first
+trip, when, seated astride his father's shoulders with his sturdy little
+legs around Cardigan's neck and his chubby little hands clasping the
+old man's ears, they had gone up the abandoned skid-road and into
+the semi-darkness of the forest, terminating suddenly in a shower of
+sunshine that fell in an open space where a boy could roll and play
+and never get dirty. Also there were several dozen gray squirrels there
+waiting to climb on his shoulder and search his pockets for pine-nuts, a
+supply of which his father always furnished.
+
+Bryce always looked forward with eagerness to those frequent trips with
+his father "to the place where Mother dear went to heaven." From his
+perch on his father's shoulders he could look vast distances into the
+underbrush and catch glimpses of the wild life therein; when the last
+nut had been distributed to the squirrels in the clearing, he would
+follow a flash of blue that was a jay high up among the evergreen
+branches, or a flash of red that was a woodpecker hammering a home in
+the bark of a sugar-pine. Eventually, however, the spell of the forest
+would creep over the child; intuitively he would become one with the
+all-pervading silence, climb into his father's arms as the latter sat
+dreaming on the old sugar-pine windfall, and presently drop off to
+sleep.
+
+When Bryce was six years old, his father sent him to the public school
+in Sequoia with the children of his loggers and mill-hands, thus laying
+the foundation for a democratic education all too infrequent with the
+sons of men rated as millionaires. At night old Cardigan (for so men had
+now commenced to designate him!) would hear his boy's lessons, taking
+the while an immeasurable delight in watching the lad's mind develop. As
+a pupil Bryce was not meteoric; he had his father's patient, unexcitable
+nature; and, like the old man, he possessed the glorious gift of
+imagination. Never mediocre, he was never especially brilliant, but
+was seemingly content to maintain a steady, dependable average in all
+things. He had his mother's dark auburn hair, brown eyes, and fair white
+skin, and quite early in life he gave promise of being as large and
+powerful a man as his father.
+
+Bryce's boyhood was much the same as that of other lads in Sequoia,
+save that in the matter of toys and, later guns, fishing-rods, dogs, and
+ponies he was a source of envy to his fellows. After his tenth year his
+father placed him on the mill pay-roll, and on payday he was wont to
+line up with the mill-crew to receive his modest stipend of ten dollars
+for carrying in kindling to the cook in the mill kitchen each day after
+school.
+
+This otherwise needless arrangement was old Cardigan's way of teaching
+his boy financial responsibility. All that he possessed he had worked
+for, and he wanted his son to grow up with the business to realize that
+he was a part of it with definite duties connected with it developing
+upon him--duties which he must never shirk if he was to retain the rich
+redwood heritage his father had been so eagerly storing up for him.
+
+When Bryce Cardigan was about fourteen years old there occurred an
+important event in his life. In a commendable effort to increase his
+income he had laid out a small vegetable garden in the rear of his
+father's house, and here on a Saturday morning, while down on his knees
+weeding carrots, he chanced to look up and discovered a young lady
+gazing at him through the picket fence. She was a few years his junior,
+and a stranger in Sequoia. Ensued the following conversation: "Hello,
+little boy."
+
+"Hello yourself! I ain't a little boy."
+
+She ignored the correction. "What are you doing?"
+
+"Weedin' carrots. Can't you see?"
+
+"What for?"
+
+Bryce, highly incensed at having been designated a little boy by this
+superior damsel, saw his opportunity to silence her. "Cat's fur for
+kitten breeches," he retorted--without any evidence of originality, we
+must confess. Whereat she stung him to the heart with a sweet smile and
+promptly sang for him this ancient ballad of childhood:
+
+     "What are little boys made of?
+      What are little boys made of?
+       Snakes and snails,
+       And puppy dog's tails,
+      And that's what little boys are made of."
+
+Bryce knew the second verse and shrivelled inwardly in anticipation
+of being informed that little girls are made of sugar and spice and
+everything nice. Realizing that he had begun something which might not
+terminate with credit to himself, he hung his head and for the space of
+several minutes gave all his attention to his crop. And presently the
+visitor spoke again.
+
+"I like your hair, little boy. It's a pretty red."
+
+That settled the issue between them. To be hailed as little boy was bad
+enough, but to be reminded of his crowning misfortune was adding
+insult to injury. He rose and cautiously approached the fence with
+the intention of pinching the impudent stranger, suddenly and
+surreptitiously, and sending her away weeping. As his hand crept between
+the palings on its wicked mission, the little miss looked at him in
+friendly fashion and queried:
+
+"What's your name?"
+
+Bryce's hand hesitated. "Bryce Cardigan," he answered gruffly.
+
+"I'm Shirley Sumner," she ventured, "Let's be friends."
+
+"When did you come to live in Sequoia?" he demanded.
+
+"I don't live here. I'm just visiting here with my aunt and uncle. We're
+staying at the hotel, and there's nobody to play with. My uncle's name
+is Pennington. So's my aunt's. He's out here buying timber, and we live
+in Michigan. Do you know the capital of Michigan?"
+
+"Of course I do," he answered. "The capital of Michigan is Chicago."
+
+"Oh, you big stupid! It isn't. It's Detroit."
+
+"'Tain't neither. It's Chicago."
+
+"I live there--so I guess I ought to know. So there!"
+
+Bryce was vanquished, and an acute sense of his imperfections in matters
+geographical inclined him to end the argument. "Well, maybe you're
+right," he admitted grudgingly. "Anyhow, what difference does it make?"
+
+She did not answer. Evidently she was desirous of avoiding an argument
+if possible. Her gaze wandered past Bryce to where his Indian pony stood
+with her head out the window of her box-stall contemplating her master.
+
+"Oh, what a dear little horse!" Shirley Sumner exclaimed. "Whose is he?"
+
+"'Tain't a he. It's a she. And she belongs to me."
+
+"Do you ride her?"
+
+"Not very often now. I'm getting too heavy for her, so Dad's bought me a
+horse that weighs nine hundred pounds. Midget only weighs five hundred."
+He considered her a moment while she gazed in awe upon this man with two
+horses. "Can you ride a pony?" he asked, for no reason that he was aware
+of.
+
+She sighed, shaking her head resignedly. "We haven't any room to keep a
+pony at our house in Detroit," she explained, and added hopefully: "But
+I'd love to ride on Midget. I suppose I could learn to ride if somebody
+taught me how."
+
+He looked at her again. At that period of his existence he was inclined
+to regard girls as a necessary evil. For some immutable reason they
+existed, and perforce must be borne with, and it was his hope that he
+would get through life and see as little as possible of the exasperating
+sex. Nevertheless, as Bryce surveyed this winsome miss through the
+palings, he was sensible of a sneaking desire to find favour in her
+eyes--also equally sensible of the fact that the path to that desirable
+end lay between himself and Midget. He swelled with the importance of
+one who knows he controls a delicate situation. "Well, I suppose if you
+want a ride I'll have to give it to you," he grumbled, "although I'm
+mighty busy this morning."
+
+"Oh, I think you're so nice," she declared.
+
+A thrill shot through him that was akin to pain; with difficulty did he
+restrain an impulse to dash wildly into the stable and saddle Midget
+in furious haste. Instead he walked to the barn slowly and with extreme
+dignity. When he reappeared, he was leading Midget, a little silverpoint
+runt of a Klamath Indian pony, and Moses, a sturdy pinto cayuse from the
+cattle ranges over in Trinity County. "I'll have to ride with you," he
+announced. "Can't let a tenderfoot like you go out alone on Midget."
+
+All aflutter with delightful anticipation, the young lady climbed up
+on the gate and scrambled into the saddle when Bryce swung the pony
+broadside to the gate. Then he adjusted the stirrups to fit her, passed
+a hair rope from Midget's little hackamore to the pommel of Moses'
+saddle, mounted the pinto, and proceeded with his first adventure as a
+riding-master. Two hours of his valuable time did he give that morning
+before the call of duty brought him back to the house and his neglected
+crop of carrots. When he suggested tactfully, however, that it was
+now necessary that his guest and Midget separate, a difficulty arose.
+Shirley Sumner refused point blank to leave the premises. She liked
+Bryce for his hair and because he had been so kind to her; she was a
+stranger in Sequoia, and now that she had found an agreeable companion,
+it was far from her intention to desert him.
+
+So Miss Sumner stayed and helped Bryce weed his carrots, and since as
+a voluntary labourer she was at least worth her board, at noon Bryce
+brought her in to Mrs. Tully with a request for luncheon. When he
+went to the mill to carry in the kindling for the cook, the young lady
+returned rather sorrowfully to the Hotel Sequoia, with a fervent promise
+to see him the next day. She did, and Bryce took her for a long ride
+up into the Valley of the Giants and showed her his mother's grave. The
+gray squirrels were there, and Bryce gave Shirley a bag of pine-nuts
+to feed them. Then they put some flowers on the grave, and when they
+returned to town and Bryce was unsaddling the ponies, Shirley drew
+Midget's nose down to her and kissed it. Then she commenced to weep
+rather violently.
+
+"What are you crying about?" Bryce demanded. Girls were so hard to
+understand.
+
+"I'm go-going h-h-h-home to-morrow," she howled.
+
+He was stricken with dismay and bade her desist from her vain
+repinings. But her heart was broken, and somehow--Bryce appeared to
+act automatically--he had his arm around her. "Don't cry, Shirley," he
+pleaded. "It breaks my heart to see you cry. Do you want Midget? I'll
+give her to you."
+
+Between sobs Shirley confessed that the prospect of parting with him and
+not Midget was provocative of her woe. This staggered Bryce and pleased
+him immensely. And at parting she kissed him good-bye, reiterating her
+opinion that he was the nicest, kindest boy she had ever met or hoped to
+meet.
+
+When Shirley and her uncle and aunt boarded the steamer for San
+Francisco, Bryce stood disconsolate on the dock and waved to Shirley
+until he could no longer discern her on the deck. Then he went home,
+crawled up into the haymow and wept, for he had something in his heart
+and it hurt. He thought of his elfin companion very frequently for a
+week, and he lost his appetite, very much to Mrs. Tully's concern. Then
+the steelhead trout began to run in Eel River, and the sweetest event
+that can occur in any boy's existence--the sudden awakening to
+the wonder and beauty of life so poignantly realized in his first
+love-affair--was lost sight of by Bryce. In a month he had forgotten the
+incident; in six months he had forgotten Shirley Sumner.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+The succeeding years of Bryce Cardigan's life, until he completed
+his high-school studies and went East to Princeton, were those of the
+ordinary youth in a small and somewhat primitive country town. He made
+frequent trips to San Francisco with his father, taking passage on the
+steamer that made bi-weekly trips between Sequoia and the metropolis--as
+The Sequoia Sentinel always referred to San Francisco. He was an expert
+fisherman, and the best shot with rifle or shot-gun in the county; he
+delighted in sports and, greatly to the secret delight of his father
+showed a profound interest in the latter's business.
+
+Throughout the happy years of Bryce's boyhood his father continued to
+enlarge and improve his sawmill, to build more schooners, and to acquire
+more redwood timber. Lands, the purchase of which by Cardigan a decade
+before had caused his neighbours to impugn his judgment, now developed
+strategical importance. As a result those lands necessary to consolidate
+his own holdings came to him at his own price, while his adverse
+holdings that blocked the logging operations of his competitors went
+from him--also at his own price. In fact, all well-laid plans matured
+satisfactorily with the exception of one, and since it has a very
+definite bearing on the story, the necessity for explaining it is
+paramount.
+
+Contiguous to Cardigan's logging operations to the east and north of
+Sequoia, and comparatively close in, lay a block of two thousand acres
+of splendid timber, the natural, feasible, and inexpensive outlet for
+which, when it should be logged, was the Valley of the Giants. For
+thirty years John Cardigan had played a waiting game with the owner of
+that timber, for the latter was as fully obsessed with the belief that
+he was going to sell it to John Cardigan at a dollar and a half per
+thousand feet stumpage as Cardigan was certain he was going to buy it
+for a dollar a thousand--when he should be ready to do so and not one
+second sooner. He calculated, as did the owner of the timber, that the
+time to do business would be a year or two before the last of Cardigan's
+timber in that section should be gone.
+
+Eventually the time for acquiring more timber arrived. John Cardigan,
+meeting his neighbour on the street, accosted him thus:
+
+"Look here, Bill: isn't it time we got together on that timber of yours?
+You know you've been holding it to block me and force me to buy at your
+figure."
+
+"That's why I bought it," the other admitted smilingly. "Then, before I
+realized my position, you checkmated me with that quarter-section in the
+valley, and we've been deadlocked ever since."
+
+"I'll give you a dollar a thousand stumpage for your timber, Bill."
+
+"I want a dollar and a half."
+
+"A dollar is my absolute limit."
+
+"Then I'll keep my timber."
+
+"And I'll keep my money. When I finish logging in my present holdings,
+I'm going to pull out of that country and log twenty miles south
+of Sequoia. I have ten thousand acres in the San Hedrin watershed.
+Remember, Bill, the man who buys your timber will have to log it through
+my land--and I'm not going to log that quarter-section in the valley.
+Hence there will be no outlet for your timber in back."
+
+"Not going to log it? Why, what are you going to do with it?"
+
+"I'm just going to let it stay there until I die. When my will is filed
+for probate, your curiosity will be satisfied--but not until then."
+
+The other laughed. "John," he declared, "you just haven't got the
+courage to pull out when your timber adjoining mine is gone, and
+move twenty miles south to the San Hedrin watershed. That will be too
+expensive a move, and you'll only be biting off your nose to spite your
+face. Come through with a dollar and a half, John."
+
+"I never bluff, Bill. Remember, if I pull out for the San Hedrin, I'll
+not abandon my logging-camps there to come back and log your timber.
+One expensive move is enough for me. Better take a dollar, Bill. It's a
+good, fair price, as the market on redwood timber is now, and you'll be
+making an even hundred per cent, on your investment. Remember, Bill, if
+I don't buy your timber, you'll never log it yourself and neither will
+anybody else. You'll be stuck with it for the next forty years--and
+taxes aren't getting any lower. Besides, there's a good deal of pine and
+fir in there, and you know what a forest fire will do to that."
+
+"I'll hang on a little longer, I think."
+
+"I think so, too," John Cardigan replied. And that night, as was his
+wont, even though he realized that it was not possible for Bryce to gain
+a profound understanding of the business problems to which he was heir,
+John Cardigan discussed the Squaw Creek timber with his son, relating to
+him the details of his conversation with the owner.
+
+"I suppose he thinks you're bluffing," Bryce commented.
+
+"I'm not, Bryce. I never bluff--that is, I never permit a bluff of mine
+to be called, and don't you ever do it, either. Remember that, boy. Any
+time you deliver a verdict, be sure you're in such a position you won't
+have to reverse yourself. I'm going to finish logging in that district
+this fall, so if I'm to keep the mill running, I'll have to establish my
+camps on the San Hedrin watershed right away."
+
+Bryce pondered. "But isn't it cheaper to give him his price on Squaw
+Creek timber than go logging in the San Hedrin and have to build twenty
+miles of logging railroad to get your logs to the mill?"
+
+"It would be, son, if I HAD to build the railroad. Fortunately, I do
+not. I'll just shoot the logs down the hillside to the San Hedrin River
+and drive them down the stream to a log-boom on tidewater."
+
+"But there isn't enough water in the San Hedrin to float a redwood log,
+Dad. I've fished there, and I know."
+
+"Quite true--in the summer and fall. But when the winter freshets come
+on and the snow begins to melt in the spring up in the Yola Bolas, where
+the San Hedrin has its source, we'll have plenty of water for driving
+the river. Once we get the logs down to tide-water, we'll raft them and
+tow them up to the mill. So you see, Bryce, we won't be bothered with
+the expense of maintaining a logging railroad, as at present."
+
+Bryce looked at his father admiringly. "I guess Dan Keyes is right,
+Dad," he said. "Dan says you're crazy--like a fox. Now I know why you've
+been picking up claims in the San Hedrin watershed."
+
+"No, you don't, Bryce. I've never told you, but I'll tell you now the
+real reason. Humboldt County has no rail connection with the outside
+world, so we are forced to ship our lumber by water. But some day a
+railroad will be built in from the south--from San Francisco; and when
+it comes, the only route for it to travel is through our timber in the
+San Hedrin Valley. I've accumulated that ten thousand acres for you,
+my son, for the railroad will never be built in my day. It may come in
+yours, but I have grown weary waiting for it, and now that my hand is
+forced, I'm going to start logging there. It doesn't matter, son. You
+will still be logging there fifty years from now. And when the railroad
+people come to you for a right of way, my boy, give it to them. Don't
+charge them a cent. It has always been my policy to encourage the
+development of this county, and I want you to be a forward-looking,
+public-spirited citizen. That's why I'm sending you East to college.
+You've been born and raised in this town, and you must see more of the
+world. You mustn't be narrow or provincial, because I'm saving up for
+you, my son, a great many responsibilities, and I want to educate you to
+meet them bravely and sensibly."
+
+He paused, regarding the boy gravely and tenderly. "Bryce, lad," he said
+presently, "do you ever wonder why I work so hard and barely manage to
+spare the time to go camping with you in vacation time?"
+
+"Why don't you take it easy, Dad? You do work awfully hard, and I have
+wondered about it."
+
+"I have to work hard, my son, because I started something a long time
+ago, when work was fun. And now I can't let go. I employ too many people
+who are dependent on me for their bread and butter. When they plan a
+marriage or the building of a home or the purchase of a cottage organ,
+they have to figure me in on the proposition. I didn't have a name for
+the part I played in these people's lives until the other night when I
+was helping you with your algebra. I'm the unknown quantity."
+
+"Oh, no," Bryce protested. "You're the known quantity."
+
+Cardigan smiled. "Well, maybe I am," he admitted. "I've always tried to
+be. And if I have succeeded, then you're the unknown quantity, Bryce,
+because some day you'll have to take my place; they will have to depend
+upon you when I am gone. Listen to me, son. You're only a boy, and you
+can't understand everything I tell you now, but I want you to remember
+what I tell you, and some day understanding will come to you. You
+mustn't fail the people who work for you--who are dependent upon your
+strength and brains and enterprises to furnish them with an opportunity
+for life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. When you are the boss
+of Cardigan's mill, you must keep the wheels turning; you must never
+shut down the mill or the logging-camps in dull times just to avoid a
+loss you can stand better than your employees."
+
+His hard, trembling old hand closed over the boy's. "I want you to be a
+brave and honourable man," he concluded.
+
+True to his word, when John Cardigan finished his logging in his old,
+original holdings adjacent to Sequoia and Bill Henderson's Squaw Creek
+timber, he quietly moved south with his Squaw Creek woods-gang and
+joined the crew already getting out logs in the San Hedrin watershed.
+Not until then did Bill Henderson realize that John Cardigan had called
+his bluff--whereat he cursed himself for a fool and a poor judge of
+human nature. He had tried a hold-up game and had failed; a dollar a
+thousand feet stumpage was a fair price; for years he had needed the
+money; and now, when it was too late, he realized his error. Luck was
+with Henderson, however; for shortly thereafter there came again to
+Sequoia one Colonel Seth Pennington, a millionaire white-pine operator
+from Michigan. The Colonel's Michigan lands had been logged off, and
+since he had had one taste of cheap timber, having seen fifty-cent
+stumpage go to five dollars, the Colonel, like Oliver Twist, desired
+some more of the same. On his previous visit to Sequoia he had seen
+his chance awaiting him in the gradually decreasing market for redwood
+lumber and the corresponding increase of melancholia in the redwood
+operators; hence he had returned to Michigan, closed out his business
+interests there, and returned to Sequoia on the alert for an investment
+in redwood timber. From a chair-warmer on the porch of the Hotel
+Sequoia, the Colonel had heard the tale of how stiff-necked old
+John Cardigan had called the bluff of equally stiff-necked old Bill
+Henderson; so for the next few weeks the Colonel, under pretense of
+going hunting or fishing on Squaw Creek, managed to make a fairly
+accurate cursory cruise of the Henderson timber--following which he
+purchased it from the delighted Bill for a dollar and a quarter per
+thousand feet stumpage and paid for it with a certified check. With his
+check in his hand, Henderson queried:
+
+"Colonel, how do you purpose logging that timber?"
+
+The Colonel smiled. "Oh, I don't intend to log it. When I log timber,
+it has to be more accessible. I'm just going to hold on and outgame your
+former prospect, John Cardigan. He needs that timber; he has to have
+it--and one of these days he'll pay me two dollars for it."
+
+Bill Henderson raised an admonitory finger and shook it under the
+Colonel's nose. "Hear me, stranger," he warned. "When you know John
+Cardigan as well as I do, you'll change your tune. He doesn't bluff."
+
+"He doesn't?" The Colonel laughed derisively. "Why, that move of his
+over to the San Hedrin was the most monumental bluff ever pulled off in
+this country."
+
+"All right, sir. You wait and see."
+
+"I've seen already. I know."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"Well, for one thing, Henderson, I noticed Cardigan has carefully housed
+his rolling-stock--and he hasn't scrapped his five miles of logging
+railroad and three miles of spurs."
+
+Old Bill Henderson chewed his quid of tobacco reflectively and spat at
+a crack in the sidewalk. "No," he replied, "I'll admit he ain't started
+scrappin' it yet, but I happen to know he's sold the rollin'-stock an'
+rails to the Freshwater Lumber Company, so I reckon they'll be scrappin'
+that railroad for him before long."
+
+The Colonel was visibly moved. "If your information is authentic," he
+said slowly, "I suppose I'll have to build a mill on tidewater and log
+the timber."
+
+"'Twon't pay you to do that at the present price of redwood lumber."
+
+"I'm in no hurry. I can wait for better times."
+
+"Well, when better times arrive, you'll find that John Cardigan owns the
+only water-front property on this side of the bay where the water's deep
+enough to let a ship lie at low tide and load in safety."
+
+"There is deep water across the bay and plenty of water-front property
+for sale. I'll find a mill-site there and tow my logs across."
+
+"But you've got to dump 'em in the water on this side. Everything north
+of Cardigan's mill is tide-flat; he owns all the deep-water frontage
+for a mile south of Sequoia, and after that come more tide-flats. If
+you dump your logs on these tide-flats, they'll bog down in the mud, and
+there isn't water enough at high tide to float 'em off or let a tug go
+in an' snake 'em off."
+
+"You're a discouraging sort of person," the Colonel declared irritably.
+"I suppose you'll tell me now that I can't log my timber without
+permission from Cardigan."
+
+Old Bill spat at another crack; his faded blue eyes twinkled
+mischievously. "No, that's where you've got the bulge on John, Colonel.
+You can build a logging railroad from the southern fringe of your timber
+north and up a ten per cent. grade on the far side of the Squaw Creek
+watershed, then west three miles around a spur of low hills, and then
+south eleven miles through the level country along the bay shore. If you
+want to reduce your Squaw Creek grade to say two per cent., figure on
+ten additional miles of railroad and a couple extra locomotives. You
+understand, of course, Colonel, that no Locomotive can haul a long
+trainload of redwood logs up a long, crooked, two per cent. grade. You
+have to have an extry in back to push."
+
+"Nonsense! I'll build my road from Squaw Creek gulch south through that
+valley where those whopping big trees grow. That's the natural outlet
+for the timber. See here:" [graphic]
+
+Colonel Pennington took from his pocket the rough sketch-map of the
+region which we have reproduced herewith and pointed to the spot
+numbered "11."
+
+"But that valley ain't logged yet," explained Henderson.
+
+"Don't worry. Cardigan will sell that valley to me--also a right of
+way down his old railroad grade and through his logged-over lands to
+tidewater."
+
+"Bet you a chaw o' tobacco he won't. Those big trees in that valley
+ain't goin' to be cut for no railroad right o' way. That valley's John
+Cardigan's private park; his wife's buried up there. Why, Colonel,
+that's the biggest grove of the biggest sequoia sempervirens in the
+world, an' many's the time I've heard John say he'd almost as lief cut
+off his right hand as fell one o' his giants, as he calls 'em. I tell
+you, Colonel, John Cardigan's mighty peculiar about them big trees. Any
+time he can get a day off he goes up an' looks 'em over."
+
+"But, my very dear sir," the Colonel protested, "if the man will not
+listen to reason, the courts will make him. I can condemn a right of
+way, you know."
+
+"We-ll," said old Bill, wagging his head sagely, "mebbe you can, an'
+then again mebbe you can't. It took me a long time to figger out just
+where I stood, but mebbe you're quicker at figgers than I am. Anyhow,
+Colonel, good luck to you, whichever way the cat jumps."
+
+This illuminating conversation had one effect on Colonel Seth
+Pennington. It decided him to make haste slowly; so without taking
+the trouble to make the acquaintance of John Cardigan, he returned to
+Detroit, there to await the next move in this gigantic game of chess.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+No man is infallible, and in planning his logging operations in the San
+Hedrin watershed, John Cardigan presently made the discovery that he had
+erred in judgment. That season, from May to November, his woods-crew put
+thirty million feet of logs into the San Hedrin River, while the
+mill sawed on a reserve supply of logs taken from the last of the old
+choppings adjacent to Squaw Creek. That year, however, the rainfall in
+the San Hedrin country was fifty per cent. less than normal, and by the
+first of May of the following year Cardigan's woods-crew had succeeded
+in driving slightly less than half of the cut of the preceding year to
+the boom on tidewater at the mouth of the river.
+
+"Unless the Lord'll gi' us a lot more water in the river," the
+woods-boss McTavish complained, "I dinna see how I'm to keep the mill
+runnin'." He was taking John Cardigan up the riverbank and explaining
+the situation. "The heavy butt-logs hae sunk to the bottom," he
+continued. "Wie a normal head o' water, the lads'll move them, but
+wi' the wee drappie we have the noo--" He threw up his hamlike hands
+despairingly.
+
+Three days later a cloud-burst filled the river to the brim; it came
+at night and swept the river clean of Cardigan's clear logs, An army
+of Juggernauts, they swept down on the boiling torrent to tidewater,
+reaching the bay shortly after the tide had commenced to ebb.
+
+Now, a chain is only as strong as its weakest link, and a log-boom is
+a chaplet of a small logs, linked end to end by means of short chains;
+hence when the vanguard of logs on the lip of that flood reached the
+log-boom, the impetus of the charge was too great to be resisted.
+Straight through the weakest link in this boom the huge saw-logs crashed
+and out over Humboldt Bar to the broad Pacific. With the ebb tide some
+of them came back, while others, caught in cross-currents, bobbed about
+the Bay all night and finally beached at widely scattered points. Out
+of the fifteen million feet of logs less than three million feet were
+salvaged, and this task in itself was an expensive operation.
+
+John Cardigan received the news calmly. "Thank God we don't have a
+cloud-burst more than once in ten years," he remarked to his manager.
+"However, that is often enough, considering the high cost of this one.
+Those logs were worth eight dollars a thousand feet, board measure,
+in the millpond, and I suppose we've lost a hundred thousand dollars'
+worth."
+
+He turned from the manager and walked away through the drying yard, up
+the main street of Sequoia, and on into the second-growth timber at the
+edge of the town. Presently he emerged on the old, decaying skid-road
+and continued on through his logged-over lands, across the little divide
+and down into the quarter-section of green timber he had told McTavish
+not to cut. Once in the Valley of the Giants, he followed a well-worn
+foot-path to the little amphitheatre, and where the sunlight filtered
+through like a halo and fell on a plain little white marble monument, he
+paused and sat down on the now almost decayed sugar-pine windfall.
+
+"I've come for a little comfort, sweetheart," he murmured to her who
+slept beneath the stone. Then he leaned back against a redwood tree,
+removed his hat, and closed his eyes, holding his great gray head the
+while a little to one side in a listening attitude. Long he sat there,
+a great, time-bitten devotee at the shrine of his comfort; and presently
+the harried look left his strong, kind face and was replaced by a little
+prescient smile--the sort of smile worn by one who through bitter years
+has sought something very, very precious and has at length discovered
+it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+It was on the day that John Cardigan received the telegram from Bryce
+saying that, following four years at Princeton and two years of
+travel abroad, he was returning to Sequoia to take over his redwood
+heritage--that he discovered that a stranger and not the flesh of his
+flesh and the blood of his blood was to reap the reward of his fifty
+years of endeavour. Small wonder, then, that he laid his leonine head
+upon his desk and wept, silently, as the aged and helpless weep.
+
+For a long time he sat there lethargic with misery. Eventually he roused
+himself, reached for the desk telephone, and pressed a button on the
+office exchange-station. His manager, one Thomas Sinclair, answered.
+"Thomas," he said calmly, "you know, of course, that Bryce is coming
+home. Tell George to take the big car and go over to Red Bluff for him."
+
+"I'll attend to it, Mr Cardigan. Anything else?"
+
+"Yes, but I'll wait until Bryce gets home."
+
+George Sea Otter, son of Bryce Cardigan's old half-breed nurse, was
+a person in whose nature struggled the white man's predilection for
+advertisement and civic pride and the red man's instinct for
+adornment. For three years he had been old man Cardigan's chauffeur and
+man-of-all-work about the latter's old-fashioned home, and in the former
+capacity he drove John Cardigan's single evidence of extravagance--a
+Napier car, which was very justly regarded by George Sea Otter as the
+king of automobiles, since it was the only imported car in the county.
+Upon receipt of orders, therefore, from Sinclair, to drive the Napier
+over to Red Bluff and meet his future boss and one-time playfellow,
+George Sea Otter arrayed himself in a pair of new black corduroy
+trousers, yellow button shoes, a blue woollen shirt with a large scarlet
+silk handkerchief tied around the neck, a pair of beaded buckskin gloves
+with fringe dependent from the gauntlet, and a broad white beaver hat
+with a rattlesnake-skin band. Across the windshield of the Napier he
+fastened an orange-coloured pennant bearing in bright green letters the
+legend: MY CITY--SEQUOIA. As a safety-first precaution against man and
+beast en route, he buckled a gun-scabbard to the spare tires on the
+running-board and slipped a rifle into the scabbard within quick and
+easy reach of his hand; and arrayed thus, George descended upon Red
+Bluff at the helm of the king of automobiles.
+
+When the overland train coasted into Red Bluff and slid to a grinding
+halt, Bryce Cardigan saw that the Highest Living Authority had descended
+from the train also. He had elected to designate her thus in the absence
+of any information anent her Christian and family names, and for the
+further reason that quite obviously she was a very superior person. He
+had a vague suspicion that she was the kind of girl in whose presence
+a man always feels that he must appear on parade--one of those alert,
+highly intelligent young women so extremely apt to reduce an ordinarily
+intelligent young man to a state of gibbering idiocy or stupid
+immobility.
+
+Bryce had travelled in the same car with the Highest Living Authority
+from Chicago and had made up his mind by observation that with a little
+encouragement she could be induced to mount a soap-box and make a speech
+about Women's Rights; that when her native State should be granted
+equal suffrage she would run for office or manage somebody's political
+campaign; that she could drive an automobile and had probably been
+arrested for speeding; that she could go around any golf links in the
+country in ninety and had read Maeterlinck and enjoyed it.
+
+Bryce could see that she was the little daughter of some large rich man.
+The sparsity of jewellery and the rich simplicity of her attire proved
+that, and moreover she was accompanied by a French maid to whom she
+spoke French in a manner which testified that before acquiring the
+French maid she had been in the custody of a French nurse. She possessed
+poise. For the rest, she had wonderful jet-black hair, violet eyes, and
+milk-white skin, a correct nose but a somewhat generous mouth, Bryce
+guessed she was twenty or twenty-one years old and that she had a temper
+susceptible of being aroused. On the whole, she was rather wonderful
+but not dazzling--at least, not to Bryce Cardigan. He told himself she
+merely interested him as a type--whatever he meant by that.
+
+The fact that this remarkable young woman had also left the train at Red
+Bluff further interested him, for he knew Red Bluff and while giving due
+credit to the many lovely damsels of that ambitious little city, Bryce
+had a suspicion that no former Red Bluff girl would dare to invade the
+old home town with a French maid. He noted, as further evidence of the
+correctness of his assumption, that the youthful baggage-smasher at the
+station failed to recognize her and was evidently dazzled when, followed
+by the maid struggling with two suit-cases, she approached him and in
+pure though alien English (the Italian A predominated) inquired the name
+and location of the best hotel and the hour and point of departure of
+the automobile stage for San Hedrin. The youth had answered her first
+question and was about to answer the second when George Sea Otter, in
+all his barbaric splendour, came pussy-footing around the corner of the
+station in old man Cardigan's regal touring-car.
+
+The Highest Living Authority, following the gaze of the baggage-smasher,
+turned and beheld George Sea Otter. Beyond a doubt he was of the West
+westward. She had heard that California stage-drivers were picturesque
+fellows, and in all probability the displacing of the old Concord coach
+of the movie-thriller in favour of the motor-stage had not disturbed the
+idiosyncrasies of the drivers in their choice of raiment. She noted
+the rifle-stock projecting from the scabbard, and a vision of a stage
+hold-up flashed across her mind. Ah, yes, of course--the express
+messenger's weapon, no doubt! And further to clinch her instant
+assumption that here was the Sequoia motor-stage, there was the pennant
+adorning the wind-shield!
+
+Dismissing the baggage-smasher with a gracious smile, the Highest
+Living Authority approached George Sea Otter, noting, the while, further
+evidence that this car was a public conveyance, for the young man who
+had been her fellow-passenger was heading toward the automobile also.
+She heard him say:
+
+"Hello, George, you radiant red rascal! I'm mighty glad to see you, boy.
+Shake!"
+
+They shook, George Sea Otter's dark eyes and white teeth flashing
+pleasurably. Bryce tossed his bag into the tonneau; the half-breed
+opened the front door; and the young master had his foot on the
+running-board and was about to enter the car when a soft voice spoke at
+his elbow:
+
+"Driver, this is the stage for Sequoia, is it not?"
+
+George Sea Otter could scarcely credit his auditory nerves. "This car?"
+he demanded bluntly, "this--the Sequoia stage! Take a look, lady. This
+here's a Napier imported English automobile. It's a private car and
+belongs to my boss here."
+
+"I'm so sorry I slandered your car," she replied demurely. "I observed
+the pennant on the wind-shield, and I thought--"
+
+Bryce Cardigan turned and lifted his hat.
+
+"Quite naturally, you thought it was the Sequoia stage," he said to
+her. He turned a smoldering glance upon George Sea Otter. "George," he
+declared ominously, but with a sly wink that drew the sting from his
+words, "if you're anxious to hold down your job the next time a lady
+speaks to you and asks you a simple question, you answer yes or no and
+refrain from sarcastic remarks. Don't let your enthusiasm for this car
+run away with you." He faced the girl again. "Was it your intention to
+go out to Sequoia on the next trip of the stage?"
+
+She nodded.
+
+"That means you will have to wait here three days until the stage
+returns from Sequoia," Bryce replied.
+
+"I realized, of course, that we would arrive here too late to connect
+with the stage if it maintained the customary schedule for its
+departure," she explained, "but it didn't occur to me that the
+stage-driver wouldn't wait until our train arrived. I had an idea his
+schedule was rather elastic."
+
+"Stage-drivers have no imagination, to speak of," Bryce assured her. To
+himself he remarked: "She's used to having people wait on her."
+
+A shade of annoyance passed over the classic features of the Highest
+Living Authority. "Oh, dear," she complained, "how fearfully awkward!
+Now I shall have to take the next train to San Francisco and book
+passage on the steamer to Sequoia--and Marcelle is such a poor sailor.
+Oh, dear!"
+
+Bryce had an inspiration and hastened to reveal it.
+
+"We are about to start for Sequoia now, although the lateness of our
+start will compel us to put up tonight at the rest-house on the south
+fork of Trinity River and continue the journey in the morning. However,
+this rest-house is eminently respectable and the food and accommodations
+are extraordinarily good for mountains; so, if an invitation to occupy
+the tonneau of my car will not be construed as an impertinence, coming
+as it does from a total stranger, you are at liberty to regard this
+car as to all intents and purposes the public conveyance which so
+scandalously declined to wait for you this morning."
+
+She looked at him searchingly for a brief instant: then with a
+peculiarly winning smile and a graceful inclination of her head she
+thanked him and accepted his hospitality--thus:
+
+"Why, certainly not! You are very kind, and I shall be eternally
+grateful."
+
+"Thank you for that vote of confidence. It makes me feel that I have
+your permission to introduce myself. My name is Bryce Cardigan, and I
+live in Sequoia when I'm at home."
+
+"Of Cardigan's Redwoods?" she questioned. He nodded. "I've heard of you,
+I think," she continued. "I am Shirley Sumner."
+
+"You do not live in Sequoia."
+
+"No, but I'm going to hereafter. I was there about ten years ago."
+
+He grinned and thrust out a great hand which she surveyed gravely for a
+minute before inserting hers in it. "I wonder," he said, "if it is to be
+my duty to give you a ride every time you come to Sequoia? The last time
+you were there you wheedled me into giving you a ride on my pony, an
+animal known as Midget. Do you, by any chance, recall that incident?"
+
+She looked up at him wonderingly. "Why--why you're the boy with the
+beautiful auburn hair," she declared. He lifted his hat and revealed his
+thick thatch in all its glory. "I'm not so sensitive about it now," he
+explained. "When we first met, reference to my hair was apt to rile
+me." He shook her little hand with cordial good-nature. "What a pity it
+wasn't possible for us to renew acquaintance on the train, Miss Sumner!"
+
+"Better late than never, Mr. Cardigan, considering the predicament in
+which you found me. What became of Midget?"
+
+"Midget, I regret to state, made a little pig of herself one day and
+died of acute indigestion. She ate half a sack of carrots, and knowing
+full well that she was eating forbidden fruit, she bolted them, and for
+her failure to Fletcherize--but speaking of Fletcherizing, did you dine
+aboard the train?"
+
+She nodded. "So did I, Miss Sumner; hence I take it that you are quite
+ready to start."
+
+"Quite, Mr. Cardigan."
+
+"Then we'll drift. George, suppose you pile Miss Sumner's hand-baggage
+in the tonneau and then pile in there yourself and keep Marcelle
+company. I'll drive; and you can sit up in front with me, Miss Sumner,
+snug behind the wind-shield where you'll not be blown about."
+
+"I'm sure this is going to be a far pleasanter journey than the stage
+could possibly have afforded," she said graciously as Bryce slipped in
+beside her and took the wheel.
+
+"You are very kind to share the pleasure with me, Miss Sumner." He went
+through his gears, and the car glided away on its journey. "By the way,"
+he said suddenly as he turned west toward the distant blue mountains
+of Trinity County, "how did you happen to connect me with Cardigan's
+redwoods?"
+
+"I've heard my uncle, Colonel Seth Pennington, speak of them."
+
+"Colonel Seth Pennington means nothing in my young life. I never heard
+of him before; so I dare say he's a newcomer in our country. I've been
+away six years," he added in explanation.
+
+"We're from Michigan. Uncle was formerly in the lumber business there,
+but he's logged out now."
+
+"I see. So he came West, I suppose, and bought a lot of redwood timber
+cheap from some old croaker who never could see any future to the
+redwood lumber industry. Personally, I don't think he could have made
+a better investment. I hope I shall have the pleasure of making his
+acquaintance when I deliver you to him. Perhaps you may be a neighbour
+of mine. Hope so."
+
+At this juncture George Sea Otter, who had been an interested listener
+to the conversation, essayed a grunt from the rear seat. Instantly, to
+Shirley Sumner's vast surprise, her host grunted also; whereupon George
+Sea Otter broke into a series of grunts and guttural exclamations which
+evidently appeared quite intelligible to her host, for he slowed down
+to five miles an hour and cocked one ear to the rear; apparently he
+was profoundly interested in whatever information his henchman had to
+impart. When George Sea Otter finished his harangue, Bryce nodded and
+once more gave his attention to tossing the miles behind him.
+
+"What language was that?" Shirley Sumner inquired, consumed with
+curiosity.
+
+"Digger Indian," he replied. "George's mother was my nurse, and he and I
+grew up together. So I can't very well help speaking the language of the
+tribe."
+
+They chattered volubly on many subjects for the first twenty miles; then
+the road narrowed and commenced to climb steadily, and thereafter Bryce
+gave all of his attention to the car, for a deviation of a foot from the
+wheel-rut on the outside of the road would have sent them hurtling over
+the grade into the deep-timbered canons below. Their course led through
+a rugged wilderness, widely diversified and transcendently beautiful,
+and the girl was rather glad of the opportunity to enjoy it in silence.
+Also by reason of the fact that Bryce's gaze never wavered from the
+road immediately in front of the car, she had a chance to appraise
+him critically while pretending to look past him to the tumbled,
+snow-covered ranges to their right.
+
+She saw a big, supple, powerful man of twenty-five or six, with the
+bearing and general demeanour of one many years his elder. His rich,
+dark auburn hair was wavy, and a curling lock of it had escaped from the
+band of his cap at the temple; his eyes were brown to match his hair and
+were the striking feature of a strong, rugged countenance, for they were
+spaced at that eminently proper interval which proclaims an honest man.
+His nose was high, of medium thickness and just a trifle long--the
+nose of a thinker. His ears were large, with full lobes--the ears of a
+generous man. The mouth, full-lipped but firm, the heavy jaw and square
+chin, the great hands (most amazingly free from freckles) denoted the
+man who would not avoid a fight worth while. Indeed, while the girl was
+looking covertly at him, she saw his jaw set and a sudden, fierce light
+leap up in his eyes, which at first sight had seemed to her rather
+quizzical. Subconsciously he lifted one hand from the wheel and clenched
+it; he wagged his head a very little bit; consequently she knew his
+thoughts were far away, and for some reason, not quite clear to her, she
+would have preferred that they weren't. As a usual thing, young men
+did not go wool-gathering in her presence; so she sought to divert his
+thoughts to present company.
+
+"What a perfectly glorious country!" she exclaimed. "Can't we stop for
+just a minute to appreciate it?"
+
+"Yes," he replied abstractedly as he descended from the car and sat at
+her feet while she drank in the beauty of the scene, "it's a he country;
+I love it, and I'm glad to get back to it."
+
+Upon their arrival at the rest-house, however, Bryce cheered up, and
+during dinner was very attentive and mildly amusing, although Shirley's
+keen wits assured her that this was merely a clever pose and sustained
+with difficulty. She was confirmed in this assumption when, after
+sitting with him a little on the porch after dinner, she complained of
+being weary and bade him good-night. She had scarcely left him when he
+called:
+
+"George!"
+
+The half-breed slid out of the darkness and sat down beside him. A
+moment later, through the open window of her room just above the porch
+where Bryce and George Sea Otter sat, Shirley heard the former say:
+
+"George, when did you first notice that my father's sight was beginning
+to fail?"
+
+"About two years ago, Bryce."
+
+"What made you notice it?"
+
+"He began to walk with his hands held out in front of him, and sometimes
+he lifted his feet too high."
+
+"Can he see at all now, George?"
+
+"Oh, yes, a little bit--enough to make his way to the office and back."
+
+"Poor old governor! George, until you told me this afternoon, I hadn't
+heard a word about it. If I had, I never would have taken that two-year
+jaunt around the world."
+
+George Sea Otter grunted. "That's what your father said, too. So he
+wouldn't tell you, and he ordered everybody else to keep quiet about it.
+Myself--well, I didn't want you to go home and not know it until you met
+him."
+
+"That was mighty kind and considerate of you, George. And you say this
+man Colonel Pennington and my father have been having trouble?"
+
+"Yes--" Here George Sea Otter gracefully unburdened himself of a fervent
+curse directed at Shirley's avuncular relative; whereupon that young
+lady promptly left the window and heard no more.
+
+They were on the road again by eight o'clock next morning, and just as
+Cardigan's mill was blowing the six o'clock whistle, Bryce stopped the
+car at the head of the street leading down to the water-front. "I'll let
+you drive now, George," he informed the silent Sea Otter. He turned to
+Shirley Sumner. "I'm going to leave you now," he said. "Thank you for
+riding over from Red Bluff with me. My father never leaves the office
+until the whistle blows, and so I'm going to hurry down to that little
+building you see at the end of the street and surprise him."
+
+He stepped out on the running-board, stood there a moment, and extended
+his hand. Shirley had commenced a due and formal expression of her
+gratitude for having been delivered safely in Sequoia, when George Sea
+Otter spoke:
+
+"Here comes John Cardigan," he said.
+
+"Drive Miss Sumner around to Colonel Pennington's house," Bryce ordered,
+and even while he held Shirley's hand, he turned to catch the first
+glimpse of his father. Shirley followed his glance and saw a tall,
+powerfully built old man coming down the street with his hands thrust
+a little in front of him, as if for protection from some invisible
+assailant.
+
+"Oh, my poor old father!" she heard Bryce Cardigan murmur. "My dear old
+pal! And I've let him grope in the dark for two years!"
+
+He released her hand and leaped from the car. "Dad!" he called. "It is
+I--Bryce. I've come home to you at last."
+
+The slightly bent figure of John Cardigan straightened with a jerk; he
+held out his arms, trembling with eagerness, and as the car continued on
+to the Pennington house Shirley looked back and saw Bryce folded in his
+father's embrace. She did not, however, hear the heart-cry with which
+the beaten old man welcomed his boy.
+
+"Sonny, sonny--oh, I'm so glad you're back. I've missed you. Bryce, I'm
+whipped--I've lost your heritage. Oh, son! I'm old--I can't fight
+any more. I'm blind--I can't see my enemies. I've lost your redwood
+trees--even your mother's Valley of the Giants."
+
+And he commenced to weep for the third time in fifty years. And when the
+aged and helpless weep, nothing is more terrible. Bryce Cardigan said
+no word, but held his father close to his great heart and laid his cheek
+gently against the old man's, tenderly as a woman might. And presently,
+from that silent communion of spirit, each drew strength and comfort. As
+the shadows fell in John Cardigan's town, they went home to the house on
+the hill.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+Shirley Sumner's eyes were still moist when George Sea Otter, in
+obedience to the instructions of his youthful master, set her, the
+French maid, and their hand-baggage down on the sidewalk in front of
+Colonel Seth Pennington's house. The half-breed hesitated a moment,
+undecided whether he would carry the hand-baggage up to the door or
+leave that task for a Pennington retainer; then he noted the tear-stains
+on the cheeks of his fair passenger. Instantly he took up the
+hand-baggage, kicked open the iron gate, and preceded Shirley up the
+cement walk to the door.
+
+"Just wait a moment, if you please, George," Shirley said as he set
+the baggage down and started back for the car. He turned and beheld her
+extracting a five-dollar bill from her purse. "For you, George," she
+continued. "Thank you so much."
+
+In all his life George Sea Otter had never had such an experience--he,
+happily, having been raised in a country where, with the exception of
+waiters, only a pronounced vagrant expects or accepts a gratuity from a
+woman. He took the bill and fingered it curiously; then his white blood
+asserted itself and he handed the bill back to Shirley.
+
+"Thank you," he said respectfully. "If you are a man--all right. But
+from a lady--no. I am like my boss. I work for you for nothing."
+
+Shirley did not understand his refusal, but her instinctive tact warned
+her not to insist. She returned the bill to her purse, thanked him
+again, and turned quickly to hide the slight flush of annoyance. George
+Sea Otter noted it.
+
+"Lady," he said with great dignity, "at first I did not want to carry
+your baggage. I did not want to walk on this land." And with a sweeping
+gesture he indicated the Pennington grounds. "Then you cry a little
+because my boss is feeling bad about his old man. So I like you better.
+The old man--well, he has been like father to me and my mother--and we
+are Indians. My brothers, too--they work for him. So if you like my boss
+and his old man, George Sea Otter would go to hell for you pretty damn'
+quick. You bet you my life!"
+
+"You're a very good boy, George," she replied, with difficulty
+repressing a smile at his blunt but earnest avowal. "I am glad the
+Cardigans have such an honest, loyal servant."
+
+George Sea Otter's dark face lighted with a quick smile. "Now you pay
+me," he replied and returned to the car.
+
+The door opened, and a Swedish maid stood in the entrance regarding
+her stolidly. "I'm Miss Sumner," Shirley informed her. "This is my maid
+Marcelle. Help her in with the hand-baggage." She stepped into the hall
+and called: "Ooh-hooh! Nunky-dunk!"
+
+"Ship ahoy!" An answering call came to her from the dining room, across
+the entrance-hall, and an instant later Colonel Seth Pennington stood
+in the doorway, "Bless my whiskers! Is that you, my dear?" he cried, and
+advanced to greet her. "Why, how did you get here, Shirley? I thought
+you'd missed the stage."
+
+She presented her cheek for his kiss. "So I did, Uncle, but a nice
+red-haired young man named Bryce Cardigan found me in distress at
+Red Bluff, picked me up in his car, and brought me here." She sniffed
+adorably. "I'm so hungry," she declared, "and here I am, just in time
+for dinner. Is my name in the pot?"
+
+"It isn't, Shirley, but it soon will be. How perfectly bully to have you
+with me again, my dear! And what a charming young lady you've grown to
+be since I saw you last! You're--why, you've been crying! By Jove, I had
+no idea you'd be so glad to see me again."
+
+She could not forego a sly little smile at his egoism.
+
+"You're looking perfectly splendid, Uncle Seth," she parried.
+
+"And I'm feeling perfectly splendid. This is a wonderful country,
+Shirley, and everything is going nicely with me here. By the way, who
+did you say picked you up in his car?"
+
+"Bryce Cardigan. Do you know him?"
+
+"No, we haven't met. Son of old John Cardigan, I dare say. I've heard of
+him. He's been away from Sequoia for quite a while, I believe."
+
+"Yes; he was abroad for two years after he was graduated from
+Princeton."
+
+"Hum-m-m! Well, it's about time he came home to take care of that
+stiff-necked old father of his." He stepped to the bell and pressed
+it, and the butler answered. "Set a place at dinner for Miss Shirley,
+James," he ordered. "Thelma will show you your rooms, Shirley. I was
+just about to sit down to dinner. I'll wait for you."
+
+While Shirley was in the living room Colonel Pennington's features wore
+an expression almost pontifical, but when she had gone, the atmosphere
+of paternalism and affection which he radiated faded instantly. The
+Colonel's face was in repose now--cold, calculating, vaguely repellent.
+He scowled slightly.
+
+"Now, isn't that the devil's luck?" he soliloquized. "Young Cardigan is
+probably the only man in Sequoia--dashed awkward if they should
+become interested in each other--at this time. Everybody in town, from
+lumberjacks to bankers, has told me what a fine fellow Bryce Cardigan
+is. They say he's good-looking; certainly he is educated and has
+acquired some worldly polish--just the kind of young fellow Shirley will
+find interesting and welcome company in a town like this. Many things
+can happen in a year--and it will be a year before I can smash the
+Cardigans. Damn it!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+Along the well-remembered streets of Sequoia Bryce Cardigan and his
+father walked arm in arm, their progress continuously interrupted by
+well-meaning but impulsive Sequoians who insisted upon halting the pair
+to shake hands with Bryce and bid him welcome home. In the presence of
+those third parties the old man quickly conquered the agitation he had
+felt at this long-deferred meeting with his son, and when presently they
+left the business section of the town and turned into a less-frequented
+street, his emotion assumed the character of a quiet joy, evidenced in
+a more erect bearing and a firmer tread, as if he strove, despite his
+seventy-six years, not to appear incongruous as he walked beside his
+splendid son.
+
+"I wish I could see you more clearly," he said presently. His voice as
+well as his words expressed profound regret, but there was no hint of
+despair or heartbreak now.
+
+Bryce, who up to this moment had refrained from discussing his father's
+misfortunes, drew the old man a little closer to his side.
+
+"What's wrong with your eyes, pal?" he queried. He did not often address
+his parent, after the fashion of most sons, as "Father," "Dad" or "Pop."
+They were closer to each other than that, and a rare sense of perfect
+comradeship found expression, on Bryce's part, in such salutations as
+"pal," "partner" and, infrequently, "old sport." When arguing with his
+father, protesting with him or affectionately scolding him, Bryce, with
+mock seriousness, sometimes called the old man John Cardigan.
+
+"Cataracts, son," his father answered. "Merely the penalty of old age."
+
+"But can't something be done about it?" demanded Bryce. "Can't they be
+cured somehow or other?"
+
+"Certainly they can. But I shall have to wait until they are completely
+matured and I have become completely blind; then a specialist will
+perform an operation on my eyes, and in all probability my sight will
+be restored for a few years. However, I haven't given the matter a great
+deal of consideration. At my age one doesn't find very much difficulty
+in making the best of everything. And I am about ready to quit now. I'd
+like to, in fact; I'm tired."
+
+"Oh, but you can't quit until you've seen your redwoods again," Bryce
+reminded him. "I suppose it's been a long time since you've visited the
+Valley of the Giants; your long exile from the wood-goblins has made you
+a trifle gloomy, I'm afraid."
+
+John Cardigan nodded. "I haven't seen them in a year and a half, Bryce.
+Last time I was up, I slipped between the logs on the old skid-road and
+like to broke my old fool neck. But even that wasn't warning enough for
+me. I cracked right on into the timber and got lost."
+
+"Lost? Poor old partner! And what did you do about it?"
+
+"The sensible thing, my boy. I just sat down under a tree and waited for
+George Sea Otter to trail me and bring me home."
+
+"And did he find you? Or did you have to spend the night in the woods?"
+
+John Cardigan smiled humorously. "I did not. Along about sunset George
+found me. Seems he'd been following me all the time, and when I sat down
+he waited to make certain whether I was lost or just taking a rest where
+I could be quiet and think."
+
+"I've been leaving to an Indian the fulfillment of my duty," Bryce
+murmured bitterly.
+
+"No, no, son. You have never been deficient in that," the old man
+protested.
+
+"Why didn't you have the old skid-road planked with refuse lumber so you
+wouldn't fall through? And you might have had the woods-boss swamp a
+new trail into the timber and fence it on both sides, in order that you
+might feel your way along."
+
+"Yes, quite true," admitted the old man. "But then, I don't spend money
+quite as freely as I used to, Bryce. I consider carefully now before I
+part with a dollar."
+
+"Pal, it wasn't fair of you to make me stay away so long. If I had only
+known--if I had remotely suspected--"
+
+"You'd have spoiled everything--of course. Don't scold me, son. You're
+all I have now, and I couldn't bear to send for you until you'd had
+your fling." His trembling old hand crept over and closed upon his boy's
+hand, so firm but free from signs of toil. "It was my pleasure, Bryce,"
+he continued, "and you wouldn't deny me my choice of sport, would you?
+Remember, lad, I never had a boyhood; I never had a college education,
+and the only real travel I have ever had was when I worked my way
+around Cape Horn as a foremast hand, and all I saw then was water and
+hardships; all I've seen since is my little world here in Sequoia and in
+San Francisco."
+
+"You've sacrificed enough--too much--for me, Dad."
+
+"It pleased me to give you all the advantages I wanted and couldn't
+afford until I was too old and too busy to consider them. Besides, it
+was your mother's wish. We made plans for you before you were born, and
+I promised her--ah, well, why be a cry-baby? I knew I could manage until
+you were ready to settle down to business. And you HAVE enjoyed your
+little run, haven't you?" he concluded wistfully.
+
+"I have, Dad." Bryce's great hand closed over the back of his
+father's neck; he shook the old man with mock ferocity. "Stubborn old
+lumberjack!" he chided.
+
+John Cardigan shook with an inward chuckle, for the loving abuse his
+boy had formed a habit of heaping on him never failed to thrill
+him. Instinctively Bryce had realized that to-night obvious sympathy
+copiously expressed was not the medicine for his father's bruised
+spirit; hence he elected to regard the latter's blindness as a mere
+temporary annoyance, something to be considered lightly, if at all; and
+it was typical of him now that the subject had been discussed briefly,
+to resolve never to refer to it again. He released his hold on the old
+man's neck and tapped the latter's gray head lightly, while with his
+tongue he made hollow-sounding noises against the roof of his mouth.
+
+"Ha! I thought so," he declared. "After your fifty-odd years in the
+lumber business your head has become packed with sawdust--"
+
+"Be serious and talk to me, Bryce."
+
+"I ought to send you to bed without your supper. Talk to you? You bet
+I'll talk to you, John Cardigan; and I'll tell you things, too, you
+scandalous bunko-steerer. To-morrow morning I'm going to put a pair
+of overalls on you, arm you with a tin can and a swab, and set you to
+greasing the skidways. Partner, you've deceived me."
+
+"Oh, nonsense. If I had whimpered, that would only have spoiled
+everything."
+
+"Nevertheless, you were forced to cable me to hurry home."
+
+"I summoned you the instant I realized I was going to need you."
+
+"No, you didn't, John Cardigan. You summoned me because, for the first
+time in your life, you were panicky and let yourself get out of hand."
+
+His father nodded slowly. "And you aren't over it yet," Bryee continued,
+his voice no longer bantering but lowered affectionately. "What's the
+trouble, Dad? Trot out your old panic and let me inspect it. Trouble
+must be very real when it gets my father on the run."
+
+"It is, Bryce, very real indeed. As I remarked before, I've lost your
+heritage for you." He sighed. "I waited till you would be able to come
+home and settle down to business; now you're home, and there isn't any
+business to settle down to."
+
+Bryce chuckled, for he was indeed far from being worried over business
+matters, his consideration now being entirely for his father's peace
+of mind. "All right," he retorted, "Father has lost his money and we'll
+have to let the servants go and give up the old home. That part of it is
+settled; and weak, anemic, tenderly nurtured little Bryce Cardigan must
+put his turkey on his back and go into the woods looking for a job
+as lumberjack ... Busted, eh? Did I or did I not hear the six o'clock
+whistle blow at the mill? Bet you a dollar I did."
+
+"Oh, I have title to everything--yet."
+
+"How I do have to dig for good news! Then it appears we still have a
+business; indeed, we may always have a business, for the very fact
+that it is going but not quite gone implies a doubt as to its ultimate
+departure, and perhaps we may yet scheme a way to retain it."
+
+"Oh, my boy, when I think of my years of toil and scheming, of the big
+dreams I dreamed--"
+
+"Belay all! If we can save enough out of the wreck to insure you your
+customary home comforts, I shan't cry, partner. I have a profession
+to fall back on. Yes, sirree. I own a sheep-skin, and it says I'm an
+electrical and civil engineer."
+
+"What!"
+
+"I said it. An electrical and civil engineer. Slipped one over on you
+at college, John Cardigan, when all the time you thought I was having a
+good time. Thought I'd come home and surprise you."
+
+"Bu-bu-but--"
+
+"It drives me wild to have a man sputter at me. I'm an electrical and
+civil engineer, I tell you, and my two years of travel have been spent
+studying the installation and construction of big plants abroad." He
+commenced to chuckle softly. "I've known for years that our sawmill
+was a debilitated old coffee-grinder and would have to be rebuilt, so I
+wanted to know how to rebuild it. And I've known for years that some day
+I might have to build a logging railroad--"
+
+"My dear boy! And you've got your degree?"
+
+"Partner, I have a string of letters after my name like the tail of a
+comet."
+
+"You comfort me," the old man answered simply. "I have reproached myself
+with the thought that I reared you with the sole thought of making
+a lumberman out of you--and when I saw your lumber business slipping
+through my fingers--"
+
+"You were sorry I didn't have a profession to fall back on, eh? Or were
+you fearful lest you had raised the usual rich man's son? If the latter,
+you did not compliment me, pal. I've never forgotten how hard you
+always strove to impress me with a sense of the exact weight of my
+responsibility as your successor."
+
+"How big are you now?" his father queried suddenly.
+
+"Well, sir," Bryce answered, for his father's pleasure putting aside his
+normal modesty, "I'm six feet two inches tall, and I weigh two hundred
+pounds in the pink of condition. I have a forty-eight-inch chest,
+with five and a half inches chest-expansion, and a reach as long as a
+gorilla's. My underpinning is good, too; I'm not one of these fellows
+with spidery legs and a barrel-chest. I can do a hundred yards in ten
+seconds; I'm no slouch of a swimmer; and at Princeton they say I made
+football history. And in spite of it all, I haven't an athletic heart."
+
+"That is very encouraging, my boy--very. Ever do any boxing?"
+
+"Quite a little. I'm fairly up in the manly art of self-defence."
+
+"That's good. And I suppose you did some wrestling at your college
+gymnasium, did you not?"
+
+"Naturally. I went in for everything my big carcass could stand."
+
+The old man wagged his head approvingly, and they had reached the
+gate of the Cardigan home before he spoke again. "There's a big buck
+woods-boss up in Pennington's camp," he remarked irrelevantly. "He's a
+French Canadian imported from northern Michigan by Colonel Pennington.
+I dare say he's the only man in this country who measures up to you
+physically. He can fight with his fists and wrestle right cleverly, I'm
+told. His name is Jules Rondeau, and he's top dog among the lumberjacks.
+They say he's the strongest man in the county." He unlatched the gate.
+"Folks used to say that about me once," he continued wistfully. "Ah, if
+I could have my eyes to see you meet Jules Rondeau!"
+
+The front portal of the quaint old Cardigan residence opened, and a
+silver-haired lady came out on the porch and hailed Bryce. She was Mrs.
+Tully, John Cardigan's old housekeeper, and almost a mother to Bryce.
+"Oh, here's my boy!" she cried, and a moment later found herself
+encircled by Bryce's arms and saluted with a hearty kiss.
+
+As he stepped into the familiar entrance-hall, Bryce paused, raised his
+head and sniffed suspiciously, like a bird-dog. Mrs. Tully, arms akimbo,
+watched him pleasurably. "I smell something," he declared, and advanced
+a step down the hall for another sniff; then, in exact imitation of
+a foxhound, he gave tongue and started for the kitchen. Mrs. Tully,
+waddling after, found him "pointing" two hot blackberry pies which
+had but a few minutes previous been taken from the oven. He was baying
+lugubriously.
+
+"They're wild blackberries, too," Mrs. Tully announced pridefully. "I
+remembered how fond you used to be of wild-blackberry pie--so I phoned
+up to the logging-camp and had the woods-boss send a man out to pick
+them."
+
+"I'm still a pie-hound, Mrs. Tully, and you're still the same dear,
+thoughtful soul. I'm so glad now that I had sense enough to think of you
+before I turned my footsteps toward the setting sun." He patted her gray
+head. "Mrs. T.," he declared, "I've brought you a nice big collar of
+Irish lace--bought it in Belfast, b'gosh. It comes down around your neck
+and buckles right here with an old ivory cameo I picked up in Burma and
+which formerly was the property of a Hindu queen."
+
+Mrs. Tully simpered with pleasure and protested that her boy was too
+kind. "You haven't changed a single speck," she concluded proudly.
+
+"Has the pie?"
+
+"I should say not."
+
+"How many did you make?"
+
+"Two."
+
+"May I have one all for myself, Mrs. Tully?"
+
+"Indeed you may, my dear."
+
+"Thank you, but I do not want it for myself. Mrs. Tully, will you please
+wrap one of those wonderful pies in a napkin and the instant George Sea
+Otter comes in with the car, tell him to take the pie over to Colonel
+Pennington's house and deliver it to Miss Sumner? There's a girl who
+doubtless thinks she has tasted pie in her day, and I want to prove to
+her that she hasn't." He selected a card from his card-case, sat down,
+and wrote:
+
+Dear Miss Sumner:
+
+Here is a priceless hot wild-blackberry pie, especially manufactured in
+my honour. It is so good I wanted you to have some. In all your life you
+have never tasted anything like it.
+
+Sincerely, BRYCE CARDIGAN.
+
+He handed the card to Mrs. Tully and repaired to his old room to remove
+the stains of travel before joining his father at dinner.
+
+Some twenty minutes later his unusual votive offering was delivered
+by George Sea Otter to Colonel Pennington's Swedish maid, who promptly
+brought it in to the Colonel and Shirley Sumner, who were even then at
+dinner in the Colonel's fine burl-redwood-panelled dining room. Miss
+Sumner's amazement was so profound that for fully a minute she was mute,
+contenting herself with scrutinizing alternately the pie and the card
+that accompanied it. Presently she handed the card to her uncle, who
+affixed his pince-nez and read the epistle with deliberation.
+
+"Isn't this young Cardigan a truly remarkable young man, Shirley?"
+he declared. "Why, I have never heard of anything like his astounding
+action. If he had sent you over an armful of American Beauty roses
+from his father's old-fashioned garden, I could understand it, but an
+infernal blackberry pie! Good heavens!"
+
+"I told you he was different," she replied. To the Colonel's amazement
+she did not appear at all amused.
+
+Colonel Pennington poked a fork through the delicate brown crust. "I
+wonder if it is really as good as he says it is, Shirley."
+
+"Of course. If it wasn't, he wouldn't have sent it."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"By intuition," she replied. And she cut into the pie and helped the
+Colonel to a quadrant of it.
+
+"That was a genuine hayseed faux-pas," announced the Colonel a few
+moments later as Shirley was pouring coffee from a samovar-shaped
+percolator in the library. "The idea of anybody who has enjoyed the
+advantages that fellow has, sending a hot blackberry pie to a girl he
+has just met!"
+
+"Yes, the idea!" she echoed. "I find it rather charming."
+
+"You mean amusing."
+
+"I said 'charming.' Bryce Cardigan is a man with the heart and soul of a
+boy, and I think it was mighty sweet of him to share his pie with me. If
+he had sent roses, I should have suspected him of trying to 'rush'
+me, but the fact that he sent a blackberry pie proves that he's just a
+natural, simple, sane, original citizen--just the kind of person a girl
+can have for a dear friend without incurring the risk of having to marry
+him."
+
+"I repeat that this is most extraordinary."
+
+"Only because it is an unusual thing for a young man to do, although,
+after all, why shouldn't he send me a blackberry pie if he thought a
+blackberry pie would please me more than an armful of roses? Besides, he
+may send the roses to-morrow."
+
+"Most extraordinary!" the Colonel reiterated.
+
+"What should one expect from such an extraordinary creature? He's an
+extraordinary fine-looking young man, with an extraordinary scowl and an
+extraordinary crinkly smile that is friendly and generous and free from
+masculine guile. Why, I think he's just the kind of man who WOULD send a
+girl a blackberry pie."
+
+The Colonel noticed a calm little smile fringing her generous mouth.
+He wished he could tell, by intuition, what she was thinking about--and
+what effect a hot wild-blackberry pie was ultimately to have upon the
+value of his minority holding in the Laguna Grande Lumber Company.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+Not until dinner was finished and father and son had repaired to the
+library for their coffee and cigars did Bryce Cardigan advert to the
+subject of his father's business affairs.
+
+"Well, John Cardigan," he declared comfortably, "to-day is Friday.
+I'll spend Saturday and Sunday in sinful sloth and the renewal of old
+acquaintance, and on Monday I'll sit in at your desk and give you a
+long-deferred vacation. How about that programme, pard?"
+
+"Our affairs are in such shape that they could not possibly be hurt
+or bettered, no matter who takes charge of them now," Cardigan replied
+bitterly. "We're about through. I waited too long and trusted too far;
+and now--well, in a year we'll be out of business."
+
+"Suppose you start at the beginning and tell me everything right to the
+end. George Sea Otter informed me that you've been having trouble with
+this Johnny-come-lately, Colonel Pennington. Is he the man who has us
+where the hair is short?"
+
+The old man nodded.
+
+"The Squaw Creek timber deal, eh?" Bryce suggested.
+
+Again the old man nodded. "You wrote me all about that," Bryce
+continued. "You had him blocked whichever way he turned--so effectually
+blocked, in fact, that the only pleasure he has derived from his
+investment since is the knowledge that he owns two thousand acres of
+timber with the exclusive right to pay taxes on it, walk in it, look
+at it and admire it--in fact, do everything except log it, mill it, and
+realize on his investment. It must make him feel like a bally jackass."
+
+"On the other hand," his father reminded him, "no matter what the
+Colonel's feeling on that score may be, misery loves company, and not
+until I had pulled out of the Squaw Creek country and started logging in
+the San Hedrin watershed, did I realize that I had been considerable of
+a jackass myself."
+
+"Yes," Bryce admitted, "there can be no doubt but that you cut off your
+nose to spite your face."
+
+There was silence between them for several minutes. Bryce's thoughts
+harked back to that first season of logging in the San Hedrin, when the
+cloud-burst had caught the river filled with Cardigan logs and whirled
+them down to the bay, to crash through the log-boom at tidewater and
+continue out to the open sea. In his mind's eye he could still see the
+red-ink figures on the profit-and-loss statement Sinclair, his father's
+manager, had presented at the end of that year.
+
+The old man appeared to divine the trend of his son's thoughts. "Yes,
+Bryce, that was a disastrous year," he declared. "The mere loss of the
+logs was a severe blow, but in addition I had to pay out quite a little
+money to settle with my customers. I was loaded up with low-priced
+orders that year, although I didn't expect to make any money. The orders
+were merely taken to keep the men employed. You understand, Bryce! I had
+a good crew, the finest in the country; and if I had shut down, my men
+would have scattered and--well, you know how hard it is to get that kind
+of a crew together again. Besides, I had never failed my boys before,
+and I couldn't bear the thought of failing them then. Half the mills in
+the country were shut down at the time, and there was a lot of distress
+among the unemployed. I couldn't do it, Bryce."
+
+Bryce nodded. "And when you lost the logs, you couldn't fill those
+low-priced orders. Then the market commenced to jump and advanced three
+dollars in three months--"
+
+"Exactly, my son. And my customers began to crowd me to fill those
+old orders. Praise be, my regular customers knew I wasn't the kind of
+lumberman who tries to crawl out of filling low-priced orders after the
+market has gone up. Nevertheless I couldn't expect them to suffer with
+me; my failure to perform my contracts, while unavoidable, nevertheless
+would have caused them a severe loss, and when they were forced to buy
+elsewhere, I paid them the difference between the price they paid my
+competitors and the price at which they originally placed their orders
+with me. And the delay in delivery caused them further loss."
+
+"How much?"
+
+"Nearly a hundred thousand--to settle for losses to my local customers
+alone. Among my orders I had three million feet of clear lumber for
+shipment to the United Kingdom, and these foreign customers, thinking
+I was trying to crawfish on my contracts, sued me and got judgment
+for actual and exemplary damages for my failure to perform, while the
+demurrage on the ships they sent to freight the lumber sent me hustling
+to the bank to borrow money."
+
+He smoked meditatively for a minute. "I've always been land-poor," he
+explained apologetically. "Never kept much of a reserve working-capital
+for emergencies, you know. Whenever I had idle money, I put it into
+timber in the San Hedrin watershed, because I realized that some day the
+railroad would build in from the south, tap that timber, and double its
+value. I've not as yet found reason to doubt the wisdom of my course;
+but"--he sighed--"the railroad is a long time coming!"
+
+John Cardigan here spoke of a most important factor in the situation.
+The crying need of the country was a feeder to some transcontinental
+railroad. By reason of natural barriers, Humboldt County was not easily
+accessible to the outside world except from the sea, and even this
+avenue of ingress and egress would be closed for days at a stretch
+when the harbour bar was on a rampage. With the exception of a strip of
+level, fertile land, perhaps five miles wide and thirty miles long and
+contiguous to the seacoast, the heavily timbered mountains to the north,
+east, and south rendered the building of a railroad that would connect
+Humboldt County with the outside world a profoundly difficult and
+expensive task. The Northwestern Pacific, indeed, had been slowly
+building from San Francisco Bay up through Marin and Sonoma counties
+to Willits in Mendocino County. But there it had stuck to await that
+indefinite day when its finances and the courage of its board of
+directors should prove equal to the colossal task of continuing the road
+two hundred miles through the mountains to Sequoia on Humboldt Bay.
+For twenty years the Humboldt pioneers had lived in hope of this; but
+eventually they had died in despair or were in process of doing so.
+
+"Don't worry, Dad. It will come," Bryce assured his father. "It's bound
+to."
+
+"Yes, but not in my day. And when it comes, a stranger may own your San
+Hedrin timber and reap the reward of my lifetime of labour."
+
+Again a silence fell between them, broken presently by the old man.
+"That was a mistake--logging in the San Hedrin," he observed. "I had
+my lesson that first year, but I didn't heed it. If I had abandoned my
+camps there, pocketed my pride, paid Colonel Pennington two dollars for
+his Squaw Creek timber, and rebuilt my old logging-road, I would have
+been safe to-day. But I was stubborn; I'd played the game so long, you
+know--I didn't want to let that man Pennington outgame me. So I tackled
+the San Hedrin again. We put thirty million feet of logs into the river
+that year, and when the freshet came, McTavish managed to make a fairly
+successful drive. But he was all winter on the job, and when spring
+came and the men went into the woods again, they had to leave nearly a
+million feet of heavy butt logs permanently stranded in the slack water
+along the banks, while perhaps another million feet of lighter logs had
+been lifted out of the channel by the overflow and left high and dry
+when the water receded. There they were, Bryce, scattered up and down
+the river, far from the cables and logging-donkeys, the only power we
+could use to get those monsters back into the river again, and I was
+forced to decide whether they should be abandoned or split during the
+summer into railroad ties, posts, pickets, and shakes--commodities for
+which there was very little call at the time and in which, even
+when sold, there could be no profit after deducting the cost of the
+twenty-mile wagon haul to Sequoia, and the water freight from Sequoia to
+market. So I abandoned them."
+
+"I remember that phase of it, partner."
+
+"To log it the third year only meant that more of those heavy logs would
+jam and spell more loss. Besides, there was always danger of another
+cloud-burst which would put me out of business completely, and I
+couldn't afford the risk."
+
+"That was the time you should have offered Colonel Pennington a handsome
+profit on his Squaw Creek timber, pal."
+
+"If my hindsight was as good as my foresight, and I had my eyesight, I
+wouldn't be in this dilemma at all," the old man retorted briskly. "It's
+hard to teach an old dog new tricks, and besides, I was obsessed with
+the need of protecting your heritage from attack in any direction."
+
+John Cardigan straightened up in his chair and laid the tip of his right
+index finger in the centre of the palm of his left hand. "Here was the
+situation, Bryce: The centre of my palm represents Sequoia; the end of
+my fingers represents the San Hedrin timber twenty miles south. Now, if
+the railroad built in from the south, you would win. But if it built in
+from Grant's Pass, Oregon, on the north from the base of my hand, the
+terminus of the line would be Sequoia, twenty miles from your timber in
+the San Hedrin watershed!"
+
+Bryce nodded. "In which event," he replied, "we, would be in much the
+same position with our San Hedrin timber as Colonel Pennington is with
+his Squaw Creek timber. We would have the comforting knowledge that we
+owned it and paid taxes on it but couldn't do a dad-burned thing with
+it!"
+
+"Right you are! The thing to do, then, as I viewed the situation, Bryce,
+was to acquire a body of timber NORTH of Sequoia and be prepared for
+either eventuality. And this I did."
+
+Silence again descended upon them; and Bryce, gazing into the open
+fireplace, recalled an event in that period of his father's activities:
+Old Bill Henderson had come up to their house to dinner one night, and
+quite suddenly, in the midst of his soup, the old fox had glared across
+at his host and bellowed:
+
+"John, I hear you've bought six thousand acres up in Township Nine."
+
+John Cardigan had merely nodded, and Henderson had continued:
+
+"Going to log it or hold it for investment?"
+
+"It was a good buy," Cardigan had replied enigmatically; "so I thought
+I'd better take it at the price. I suppose Bryce will log it some day."
+
+"Then I wish Bryce wasn't such a boy, John. See here, now, neighbour.
+I'll 'fess up. I took that money Pennington gave me for my Squaw Creek
+timber and put it back into redwood in Township Nine, slam-bang up
+against your holdings there. John, I'd build a mill on tidewater if
+you'd sell me a site, and I'd log my timber if--"
+
+"I'll sell you a mill-site, Bill, and I won't stab you to the heart,
+either. Consider that settled."
+
+"That's bully, John; but still, you only dispose of part of my troubles.
+There's twelve miles of logging-road to build to get my logs to the
+mill, and I haven't enough ready money to make the grade. Better throw
+in with me, John, and we'll build the road and operate it for our joint
+interest."
+
+"I'll not throw in with you, Bill, at my time of life, I don't want to
+have the worry of building, maintaining, and operating twelve miles of
+private railroad. But I'll loan you, without security--"
+
+"You'll have to take an unsecured note, John. Everything I've got is
+hocked."
+
+"--the money you need to build and equip the road," finished Cardigan.
+"In return you are to shoulder all the grief and worry of the road and
+give me a ten-year contract at a dollar and a half per thousand feet,
+to haul my logs down to tidewater with your own. My minimum haul will be
+twenty-five million feet annually, and my maximum fifty million--"
+
+"Sold!" cried Henderson. And it was even so.
+
+Bryce came out of his reverie. "And now?" he queried of his father.
+
+"I mortgaged the San Hedrin timber in the south to buy the timber in the
+north, my son; then after I commenced logging in my new holdings, came
+several long, lean years of famine. I stuck it out, hoping for a change
+for the better; I couldn't bear to close down my mill and logging-camps,
+for the reason that I could stand the loss far more readily than the men
+who worked for me and depended upon me. But the market dragged in the
+doldrums, and Bill Henderson died, and his boys got discouraged, and--"
+
+A sudden flash of inspiration illumined Bryce Cardigan's brain. "And
+they sold out to Colonel Pennington," he cried.
+
+"Exactly. The Colonel took over my contract with Henderson's company,
+along with the other assets, and it was incumbent upon him, as assignee,
+to fulfill the contract. For the past two years the market for redwood
+has been most gratifying, and if I could only have gotten a maximum
+supply of logs over Pennington's road, I'd have worked out of the hole,
+but--"
+
+"He manages to hold you to a minimum annual haul of twenty-five million
+feet, eh?"
+
+John Cardigan nodded. "He claims he's short of rolling-stock--that
+wrecks and fires have embarrassed the road. He can always find excuses
+for failing to spot in logging-trucks for Cardigan's logs. Bill
+Henderson never played the game that way. He gave me what I wanted and
+never held me to the minimum haulage when I was prepared to give him the
+maximum."
+
+"What does Colonel Pennington want, pard?"
+
+"He wants," said John Cardigan slowly, "my Valley of the Giants and
+a right of way through my land from the valley to a log-dump on deep
+water."
+
+"And you refused him?"
+
+"Naturally. You know my ideas on that big timber." His old head sank low
+on his breast. "Folks call them Cardigan's Redwoods now," he murmured.
+"Cardigan's Redwoods--and Pennington would cut them! Oh, Bryce, the man
+hasn't a soul!"
+
+"But I fail to see what the loss of Cardigan's Redwoods has to do with
+the impending ruin of the Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company," his son
+reminded him. "We have all the timber we want."
+
+"My ten-year contract has but one more year to run, and recently I tried
+to get Pennington to renew it. He was very nice and sociable, but--he
+named me a freight-rate, for a renewal of the contract for five years,
+of three dollars per thousand feet. That rate is prohibitive and puts us
+out of business."
+
+"Not necessarily," Bryce returned evenly. "How about the State railroad
+commission? Hasn't it got something to say about rates?"
+
+"Yes--on common carriers. But Pennington's load is a private
+logging-road; my contract will expire next year, and it is not incumbent
+upon Pennington to renew it. And one can't operate a sawmill without
+logs, you know."
+
+"Then," said Bryce calmly, "we'll shut the mill down when the
+log-hauling contract expires, hold our timber as an investment, and live
+the simple life until we can sell it or a transcontinental road builds
+into Humboldt County and enables us to start up the mill again."
+
+John Cardigan shook his head. "I'm mortgaged to the last penny," he
+confessed, "and Pennington has been buying Cardigan Redwood Lumber
+Company first-mortgage bonds until he is in control of the issue. He'll
+buy in the San Hedrin timber at the foreclosure sale, and in order to
+get it back and save something for you out of the wreckage, I'll have
+to make an unprofitable trade with him. I'll have to give him my timber
+adjoining his north of Sequoia, together with my Valley of the Giants,
+in return for the San Hedrin timber, to which he'll have a sheriff's
+deed. But the mill, all my old employees, with their numerous
+dependents--gone, with you left land-poor and without a dollar to pay
+your taxes. Smashed--like that!" And he drove his fist into the palm of
+his hand.
+
+"Perhaps--but not without a fight," Bryce answered, although he knew
+their plight was well-nigh hopeless. "I'll give that man Pennington a
+run for his money, or I'll know the reason."
+
+The telephone on the table beside him tinkled, and he took down the
+receiver and said "Hello!"
+
+"Mercy!" came the clear, sweet voice of Shirley Sumner over the wire.
+"Do you feel as savage as all that, Mr. Cardigan?"
+
+For the second time in his life the thrill that was akin to pain came
+to Bryce Cardigan. He laughed. "If I had known you were calling, Miss
+Sumner," he said, "I shouldn't have growled so."
+
+"Well, you're forgiven--for several reasons, but principally for sending
+me that delicious blackberry pie. Of course, it discoloured my teeth
+temporarily, but I don't care. The pie was worth it, and you were
+awfully dear to think of sending it. Thank you so much."
+
+"Glad you liked it, Miss Sumner. I dare to hope that I may have the
+privilege of seeing you soon again."
+
+"Of course. One good pie deserves another. Some evening next week, when
+that dear old daddy of yours can spare his boy, you might be interested
+to see our burl-redwood-panelled dining room Uncle Seth is so proud of.
+I'm too recent an arrival to know the hour at which Uncle Seth dines,
+but I'll let you know later and name a definite date. Would Thursday
+night be convenient?"
+
+"Perfectly. Thank you a thousand times."
+
+She bade him good-night. As he turned from the telephone, his father
+looked up. "What are you going to do to-morrow, lad?" he queried.
+
+"I have to do some thinking to-morrow," Bryce answered. "So I'm going up
+into Cardigan's Redwoods to do it. Up there a fellow can get set, as it
+were, to put over a thought with a punch in it."
+
+"The dogwoods and rhododendron are blooming now," the old man murmured
+wistfully. Bryce knew what he was thinking of. "I'll attend to the
+flowers for Mother," he assured Cardigan, and he added fiercely:
+"And I'll attend to the battle for Father. We may lose, but that man
+Pennington will know he's been in a fight before we fin---"
+
+He broke off abruptly, for he had just remembered that he was to dine at
+the Pennington house the following Thursday--and he was not the sort of
+man who smilingly breaks bread with his enemy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+For many years there had been installed in Cardigan's mill a clock set
+to United States observatory time and corrected hourly by the telegraph
+company. It was the only clock of its kind in Sequoia; hence folk set
+their watches by it, or rather by the whistle on Cardigan's mill. With
+a due appreciation of the important function of this clock toward his
+fellow-citizens, old Zeb Curry, the chief engineer and a stickler for
+being on time, was most meticulous in his whistle-blowing. With a sage
+and prophetic eye fixed upon the face of the clock, and a particularly
+greasy hand grasping the whistle-cord, Zeb would wait until the clock
+registered exactly six-fifty-nine and a half--whereupon the seven
+o'clock whistle would commence blowing, to cease instantly upon the
+stroke of the hour. It was old Zeb's pride and boast that with a single
+exception, during the sixteen years the clock had been in service, no
+man could say that Zeb had been more than a second late or early with
+his whistle-blowing. That exception occurred when Bryce Cardigan,
+invading the engine room while Zeb was at luncheon, looped the
+whistle-cord until the end dangled seven feet above ground. As a
+consequence Zeb, who was a short, fat little man, was forced to leap
+at it several times before success crowned his efforts and the whistle
+blew. Thereafter for the remainder of the day his reason tottered on its
+throne, due to the fact that Bryce induced every mill employee to call
+upon the engineer and remind him that he must be growing old, since he
+was no longer dependable!
+
+On the morning following Bryce Cardigan's return to Sequoia, Zeb Curry,
+as per custom, started his engine at six-fifty-eight. That gave the huge
+bandsaws two minutes in which to attain their proper speed and afforded
+Dan Kenyon, the head sawyer, ample time to run his steam log-carriage
+out to the end of the track; for Daniel, too, was a reliable man in the
+matter of starting his daily uproar on time.
+
+At precisely six fifty-nine and a half, therefore, the engineer's hand
+closed over the handle of the whistle-cord, and Dan Kenyon, standing
+on the steam-carriage with his hand on the lever, took a thirty-second
+squint through a rather grimy window that gave upon the drying-yard and
+the mill-office at the head of it.
+
+The whistle ceased blowing, but still Dan Kenyon stood at his post,
+oblivious of the hungry saws. Ten seconds passed; then Zeb Curry,
+immeasurably scandalized at Daniel's tardiness, tooted the whistle
+sharply twice; whereupon Dan woke up, threw over the lever, and walked
+his log up to the saw.
+
+For the next five hours Zeb Curry had no opportunity to discuss the
+matter with the head sawyer. After blowing the twelve o'clock whistle,
+however, he hurried over to the dining-hall, where the mill hands
+already lined the benches, shovelling food into their mouths as only a
+lumberman or a miner can. Dan Kenyon sat at the head of the table in
+the place of honour sacred to the head sawyer, and when his mouth would
+permit of some activity other than mastication, Zeb Curry caught his
+eye.
+
+"Hey, you, Dan Kenyon," he shouted across the table, "what happened
+to you this mornin'? It was sixteen seconds between the tail end o' my
+whistle an' the front end o' your whinin'. First thing you know, you'll
+be gettin' so slack an' careless-like some other man'll be ridin' that
+log-carriage o' yourn."
+
+"I was struck dumb," Dan Kenyon replied. "I just stood there like one
+o' these here graven images. Last night on my way home from work I heerd
+the young feller was back--he got in just as we was knockin' off for the
+day; an' this mornin' just as you cut loose, Zeb, I'll be danged if he
+didn't show up in front o' the office door, fumblin' for the keyhole.
+Yes, sirree! That boy gets in at six o'clock last night an' turns to on
+his paw's job when the whistle blows this mornin' at seven."
+
+"You mean young Bryce Cardigan?" Zeb queried incredulously.
+
+"I shore do."
+
+"'Tain't possible," Zeb declared. "You seen a new bookkeeper, mebbe, but
+you didn't see Bryce. He aint no such hog for labour as his daddy before
+him, I'm tellin' you. Not that there's a lazy bone in his body, for
+there ain't, but because that there boy's got too much sense to come
+bollin' down to work at seven o'clock the very first mornin' he's back
+from Yurrup."
+
+"I'm layin' you ten to one I seen him," Dan replied defiantly, "an'
+what's more, I'll bet a good cigar--a ten-center straight--the boy don't
+leave till six o'clock to-night."
+
+"You're on," answered the chief engineer. "Them's lumberjack hours, man.
+From seven till six means work--an' only fools an' hosses keeps them
+hours."
+
+The head sawyer leaned across the table and pounded with the handle of
+his knife until he had the attention of all present. "I'm a-goin' to
+tell you young fellers somethin'," he announced. "Ever since the old
+boss got so he couldn't look after his business with his own eyes,
+things has been goin' to blazes round this sawmill, but they ain't
+a-goin' no more. How do I know? Well, I'll tell you. All this forenoon I
+kept my eye on the office door--I can see it through a mill winder; an'
+I'm tellin' you the old boss didn't show up till ten o'clock, which the
+old man ain't never been a ten o'clock business man at no time. Don't
+that prove the boy's took his place?"
+
+Confused murmurs of affirmation and negation ran up and down the long
+table. Dan tapped with his knife again. "You hear me," he warned.
+"Thirty year I've been ridin' John Cardigan's log-carriages; thirty
+year I've been gettin' everythin' out of a log it's possible to git out,
+which is more'n you fellers at the trimmers can git out of a board after
+I've sawed it off the cant. There's a lot o' you young fellers that've
+been takin' John Cardigan's money under false pretenses, so if I was you
+I'd keep both eyes on my job hereafter. For a year I've been claimin'
+that good No. 2 stock has been chucked into the slab-fire as refuge
+lumber." (Dan meant refuse lumber.) "But it won't be done no more. The
+raftsman tells me he seen Bryce down at the end o' the conveyin' belt
+givin' that refuge the once-over--so step easy."
+
+"What does young Cardigan know about runnin' a sawmill?" a planer-man
+demanded bluntly. "They tell me he's been away to college an' travellin'
+the past six years."
+
+"Wa-ll," drawled the head sawyer, "you git to talkin' with him some day
+an' see how much he knows about runnin' a sawmill. What he knows will
+surprise you. Yes, indeed, you'll find he knows considerable. He's
+picked up loose shingles around the yard an' bundled 'em in vacation
+times, an' I want to see the shingle-weaver that can teach him some
+tricks. Also, I've had him come up on the steam carriage more'n once an'
+saw up logs, while at times I've seen him put in a week or two on the
+sortin' table. In a pinch, with a lot o' vessels loadin' here at the
+dock an' the skippers raisin' Cain because they wasn't gettin' their
+cargo fast enough, I've seen him work nights an' Sundays tallyin' with
+the best o' them. Believe me that boy can grade lumber."
+
+"An' I'll tell you somethin' else," Zeb Curry cut in. "If the new boss
+ever tells you to do a thing his way, you do it an' don't argue none as
+to whether he knows more about it than you do or not."
+
+"A whole lot o' dagos an' bohunks that's come into the woods since the
+blue-noses an' canucks an' wild Irish went out had better keep your eyes
+open," Dan Kenyon warned sagely. "There ain't none o' you any better'n
+you ought to be, an' things have been pretty durned slack around
+Cardigan's mill since the old man went blind, but--you watch out.
+There's a change due. Bryce Cardigan is his father's son. He'll do
+things."
+
+"Which he's big enough to throw a bear uphill by the tail," Zeb Curry
+added, "an' you fellers all know how much tail a bear has."
+
+"Every mornin' for thirty years, 'ceptin' when we was shut down for
+repairs," Dan continued, "I've looked through that winder, when John
+Cardigan wasn't away from Sequoia, to watch him git to his office on
+time. He's there when the whistle blows, clear up to the time his eyes
+go back on him, an' then he arrives late once or twice on account o'
+havin' to go careful. This mornin', for the first time in fifty year,
+he stays in bed; but--his son has the key in the office door when the
+whistle blows, an'--"
+
+Dan Kenyon paused abruptly; the hum of conversation ceased, and silence
+fell upon the room as Bryce Cardigan strolled in the door, nodded to the
+men, and slid in on the bench to a seat beside the head sawyer.
+
+"Hello, Dan--hello, Zeb," he said and shook hands with each. "I'm mighty
+glad to see you both again. Hello, everybody. I'm the new boss, so I
+suppose I'd better introduce myself--there are so many new faces here.
+I'm Bryce Cardigan."
+
+"Yes," Zeb Curry volunteered, "an' he's like his daddy. He ain't ashamed
+to work with his men, an' he ain't ashamed to eat with his men, nuther.
+Glad you're back with us again, boy--mighty glad. Dan, here, he's
+gittin' slacker'n an old squaw with his work an' needs somebody to jerk
+him up, while the rest o' these here--"
+
+"I noticed that about Dan," Bryce interrupted craftily. "He's slowing
+up, Zeb. He must have been fifteen seconds late this morning--or
+perhaps," he added "you were fifteen seconds earlier than the clock."
+
+Dan grinned, and Bryce went on seriously: "I'm afraid you're getting too
+old to ride the log-carriage, Dan. You've been at it a long time; so,
+with the utmost good will in the world toward you, you're fired. I might
+as well tell you now. You know me, Dan. I always did dislike beating
+about the bush."
+
+"Fired!" Dan Kenyon's eyes popped with amazement and horror.
+"Fired--after thirty years!" he croaked.
+
+"Fired!" There was unmistakable finality in Bryce's tones. "You're hired
+again, however, at a higher salary, as mill-superintendent. You can get
+away with that job, can't you, Dan? In fact," he added without waiting
+for the overjoyed Dan to answer him, "you've got to get away with it,
+because I discharged the mill-superintendent I found on the job when I
+got down here this morning. He's been letting too many profits go into
+the slab-fire. In fact, the entire plant has gone to glory. Fire-hose
+old and rotten--couldn't stand a hundred-pound pressure; fire-buckets
+and water-barrels empty, axes not in their proper places,
+fire-extinguishers filled with stale chemical--why, the smallest kind
+of a fire here would get beyond our control with that man on the job.
+Besides, he's changed the grading-rules. I found the men putting clear
+boards with hard-grained streaks in them in with the No. 1 clear. The
+customer may not kick at a small percentage of No. 2 in his No. 1 but
+it's only fair to give it to him at two dollars a thousand less."
+
+"Well," purred Zeb Curry, "they don't grade lumber as strict nowadays as
+they used to before you went away. Colonel Pennington says we're a lot
+o' back numbers out this way an' too generous with our grades.
+First thing he did was to call a meetin' of all the Humboldt lumber
+manufacturers an' organize 'em into an association. Then he had the
+gradin'-rules changed. The retailers hollered for a while, but bimeby
+they got used to it."
+
+"Did my father join that association?" Bryce demanded quickly.
+
+"Yes. He told Pennington he wasn't goin' to be no obstructionist in the
+trade, but he did kick like a bay steer on them new gradin'-rules an'
+refused to conform to 'em. Said he was too old an' had been too long in
+business to start gougin' his customers at his time o' life. So he got
+out o' the association."
+
+"Bully for John Cardigan!" Bryce declared. "I suppose we could make a
+little more money by cheapening our grade, but the quality of our
+lumber is so well known that it sells itself and saves us the expense of
+maintaining a corps of salesmen."
+
+"From what I hear tell o' the Colonel," Dan observed sagely, "the least
+he ever wants is a hundred and fifty per cent. the best of it."
+
+"Yes," old Zeb observed gravely, "an' so fur as I can see, he ain't none
+too perticular how he gets it." He helped himself to a toothpick, and
+followed by the head sawyer, abruptly left the room--after the fashion
+of sawmill men and woodsmen, who eat as much as they can as quickly as
+they can and eventually die of old age rather than indigestion. Bryce
+ate his noonday meal in more leisurely fashion and at its conclusion
+stepped into the kitchen.
+
+"Where do you live, cook?" he demanded of that functionary; and upon
+being informed, he retired to the office and called up the Sequoia
+meat-market.
+
+"Bryce Cardigan speaking," he informed the butcher. "Do you ever buy any
+pigs from our mill cook?"
+
+"Not any more," the butcher answered. "He stung me once with a dozen
+fine shoats. They looked great, but after I had slaughtered them and had
+them dressed, they turned out to be swill-fed hogs--swill and alfalfa."
+
+"Thank you." Bryce hung up. "I knew that cook was wasteful," he
+declared, turning to his father's old manager, one Thomas Sinclair.
+"He wastes food in order to take the swill home to his hogs--and nobody
+watches him. Things have certainly gone to the devil," he continued.
+
+"No fault of mine," Sinclair protested. "I've never paid any attention
+to matters outside the office. Your father looked after everything
+else."
+
+Bryce looked at Sinclair. The latter was a thin, spare, nervous man
+in the late fifties, and though generally credited with being John
+Cardigan's manager, Bryce knew that Sinclair was in reality little more
+than a glorified bookkeeper--and a very excellent bookkeeper indeed.
+Bryce realized that in the colossal task that confronted him he could
+expect no real help from Sinclair.
+
+"Yes," he replied, "my father looked after everything else--while he
+could."
+
+"Oh, you'll soon get the business straightened out and running smoothly
+again," Sinclair declared confidently.
+
+"Well, I'm glad I started on the job to-day, rather than next Monday, as
+I planned to do last night."
+
+He stepped to the window and looked out. At the mill-dock a big steam
+schooner and a wind-jammer lay; in the lee of the piles of lumber,
+sailors and long-shoremen, tallymen and timekeeper lounged, enjoying the
+brief period of the noon hour still theirs before the driving mates
+of the lumber-vessels should turn them to on the job once more. To his
+right and left stretched the drying yard, gangway on gangway formed by
+the serried rows of lumber-piles, the hoop-horses placidly feeding from
+their nosebags while the strong-armed fellows who piled the lumber sat
+about in little groups conversing with the mill-hands.
+
+As Bryce looked, a puff of white steam appeared over the roof of the
+old sawmill, and the one o'clock whistle blew. Instantly that scene of
+indolence and ease turned to one of activity. The mill-hands lounging in
+the gangways scurried for their stations in the mill; men climbed to the
+tops of the lumber-piles, while other men passed boards and scantlings
+up to them; the donkey-engines aboard the vessels rattled; the
+cargo-gaffs of the steam schooner swung outward, and a moment later two
+great sling-loads of newly sawed lumber rose in the air, swung inward,
+and descended to the steamer's decks.
+
+All about Bryce were scenes of activity, of human endeavour; and to
+him in that moment came the thought: "My father brought all this to
+pass--and now the task of continuing it is mine! All those men who earn
+a living in Cardigan's mill and on Cardigan's dock--those sailors who
+sail the ships that carry Cardigan's lumber into the distant marts of
+men--are dependent upon me; and my father used to tell me not to fail
+them. Must my father have wrought all this in vain? And must I stand by
+and see all this go to satisfy the overwhelming ambition of a stranger?"
+His big hands clenched. "No!" he growled savagely.
+
+"If I stick around this office a minute longer, I'll go crazy," Bryce
+snarled then. "Give me your last five annual statements, Mr. Sinclair,
+please."
+
+The old servitor brought forth the documents in question. Bryce stuffed
+them into his pocket and left the office. Three quarters of an hour
+later he entered the little amphitheatre in the Valley of the Giants and
+paused with an expression of dismay. One of the giants had fallen
+and lay stretched across the little clearing. In its descent it had
+demolished the little white stone over his mother's grave and had driven
+the fragments of the stone deep into the earth.
+
+The tremendous brown butt quite ruined the appearance of the
+amphitheatre by reason of the fact that it constituted a barrier some
+fifteen feet high and of equal thickness athwart the centre of the
+clearing, with fully three quarters of the length of the tree lost to
+sight where the fallen monarch had wedged between its more fortunate
+fellows. The fact that the tree was down, however, was secondary to the
+fact that neither wind nor lightning had brought it low, but rather the
+impious hand of man; for the great jagged stump showed all too plainly
+the marks of cross-cut saw and axe; a pile of chips four feet deep
+littered the ground.
+
+For fully a minute Bryce stood dumbly gazing upon the sacrilege before
+his rage and horror found vent in words. "An enemy has done this thing,"
+he cried aloud to the wood-goblins. "And over her grave!"
+
+Presently, smothering his emotion, he walked the length of the dead
+giant, and where the top tapered off to a size that would permit of his
+stepping across it, he retraced his steps on the other side of the tree
+until he had reached a point some fifty feet from the butt--when the
+vandal's reason for felling the monster became apparent.
+
+It was a burl tree. At the point where Bryce paused a malignant growth
+had developed on the trunk of the tree, for all the world like a
+tremendous wart. This was the burl, so prized for table-tops and
+panelling because of the fact that the twisted, wavy, helter-skelter
+grain lends to the wood an extraordinary beauty when polished. Bryee
+noted that the work of removing this excrescence had been accomplished
+very neatly. With a cross-cut saw the growth, perhaps ten feet in
+diameter, had been neatly sliced off much as a housewife cuts slice
+after slice from a loaf of bread. He guessed that these slices,
+practically circular in shape, had been rolled out of the woods to some
+conveyance waiting to receive them.
+
+What Bryce could not understand, however, was the stupid brutality of
+the raiders in felling the tree merely for that section of burl. By
+permitting the tree to stand and merely building a staging up to the
+burl, the latter could have been removed without vital injury to the
+tree--whereas by destroying the tree the wretches had evidenced all too
+clearly to Bryce a wanton desire to add insult to injury.
+
+Bryce inspected the scars on the stump carefully. They were
+weather-stained to such an extent that to his experienced eye it was
+evident the outrage had been committed more than a year previously;
+and the winter rains, not to mention the spring growth of grasses and
+underbrush, had effectually destroyed all trace of the trail taken by
+the vandals with their booty.
+
+"Poor old Dad!" he murmured. "I'm glad now he has been unable to get up
+here and see this. It would have broken his heart. I'll have this tree
+made into fence-posts and the stump dynamited and removed this summer.
+After he is operated on and gets back his sight, he will come up
+here--and he must never know. Perhaps he will have forgotten how many
+trees stood in this circle. And I'll fill in the hole left by the stump
+and plant some manzanita there to hide the--"
+
+He paused. Peeping out from under a chip among the litter at his feet
+was the moldy corner of a white envelope. In an instant Bryce had it in
+his hand. The envelope was dirty and weather-beaten, but to a certain
+extent the redwood chips under which it had lain hidden had served to
+protect it, and the writing on the face was still legible. The envelope
+was empty and addressed to Jules Rondeau, care of the Laguna Grande
+Lumber Company, Sequoia, California.
+
+Bryce read and reread that address. "Rondeau!" he muttered. "Jules
+Rondeau! I've heard that name before--ah, yes! Dad spoke of him last
+night. He's Pennington's woods-boss--"
+
+He paused. An enemy had done this thing--and in all the world John
+Cardigan had but one enemy--Colonel Seth Pennington. Had Pennington sent
+his woods-boss to do this dirty work out of sheer spite? Hardly. The
+section of burl was gone, and this argued that the question of spite had
+been purely a matter of secondary consideration.
+
+Evidently, Bryce reasoned, someone had desired that burl redwood
+greatly, and that someone had not been Jules Rondeau, since a woods-boss
+would not be likely to spend five minutes of his leisure time in
+consideration of the beauties of a burl table-top or panel. Hence, if
+Rondeau had superintended the task of felling the tree, it must have
+been at the behest of a superior; and since a woods-boss acknowledges no
+superior save the creator of the pay-roll, the recipient of that stolen
+burl must have been Colonel Pennington.
+
+Suddenly he thrilled. If Jules Rondeau had stolen that burl to present
+it to Colonel Pennington, his employer, then the finished article must
+be in Pennington's home! And Bryce had been invited to that home for
+dinner the following Thursday by the Colonel's niece.
+
+"I'll go, after all," he told himself. "I'll go--and I'll see what I
+shall see."
+
+He was too wrought up now to sit calmly down in the peace and quietude
+of the giants, and digest the annual reports Sinclair had given him. He
+hastened back to the mill-office and sought Sinclair.
+
+"At what hour does the logging-train leave the Laguna Grande Lumber
+Company's yard for our log-landing in Township Nine?" he demanded.
+
+"Eight a.m. and one p.m. daily, Bryce."
+
+"Have you any maps of the holdings of Pennington and ourselves in that
+district?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Let me have them, please. I know the topography of that district
+perfectly, but I am not familiar with the holdings in and around ours."
+
+Sinclair gave him the maps, and Bryce retired to his father's private
+office and gave himself up to a study of them.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+When Shirley Sumner descended to the breakfast room on the morning
+following her arrival in Sequoia, the first glance at her uncle's
+stately countenance informed her that during the night something had
+occurred to irritate Colonel Seth Pennington and startle him out of
+his customary bland composure. He greeted her politely but coldly, and
+without even the perfunctory formality of inquiring how she had passed
+the night, he came directly to the issue,
+
+"Shirley," he began, "did I hear you calling young Cardigan on the
+telephone after dinner last night or did my ears deceive me?"
+
+"Your ears are all right, Uncle Seth. I called Mr. Cardigan up to thank
+him for the pie he sent over, and incidentally to invite him over here
+to dinner on Thursday night."
+
+"I thought I heard you asking somebody to dinner, and as you don't know
+a soul in Sequoia except young Cardigan, naturally I opined that he was
+to be the object of our hospitality."
+
+The Colonel coughed slightly. From the manner in which he approached the
+task of buttering his hot cakes Shirley knew he had something more
+to say and was merely formulating a polite set of phrases in which to
+express himself. She resolved to help him along.
+
+"I dare say it's quite all right to have invited him; isn't it, Uncle
+Seth?"
+
+"Certainly, certainly, my dear. Quite all right, but er--ah, slightly
+inconvenient."
+
+"Oh, I'm so sorry. If I had known--Perhaps some other night--"
+
+"I am expecting other company Thursday night--unfortunately, Brayton,
+the president of the Bank of Sequoia, is coming up to dine and discuss
+some business affairs with me afterward; so if you don't mind, my dear,
+suppose you call young Cardigan up and ask him to defer his visit until
+some later date."
+
+"Certainly, Uncle. There is no particular reason why I should have
+Mr. Cardigan on Thursday if his presence would mean the slightest
+interference with your plans. What perfectly marvellous roses! How did
+you succeed in growing them, Uncle Seth?"
+
+He smiled sourly. "I didn't raise them," he replied. "That half-breed
+Indian that drives John Cardigan's car brought them around about an hour
+ago, along with a card. There it is, beside your plate."
+
+She blushed ever so slightly. "I suppose Bryce Cardigan is vindicating
+himself," she murmured as she withdrew the card from the envelope. As
+she had surmised, it was Bryce Cardigan's. Colonel Pennington was the
+proprietor of a similar surmise.
+
+"Fast work, Shirley," he murmured banteringly. "I wonder what he'll send
+you for luncheon. Some dill pickles, probably."
+
+She pretended to be very busy with the roses, and not to have heard
+him. Her uncle's sneer was not lost on her, however; she resented it but
+chose to ignore it for the present; and when at length she had finished
+arranging the flowers, she changed the conversation adroitly by
+questioning her relative anent the opportunities for shopping in
+Sequoia. The Colonel, who could assimilate a hint quicker than most
+ordinary mortals, saw that he had annoyed her, and he promptly hastened
+to make amends by permitting himself to be led readily into this new
+conversational channel. As soon as he could do so, however, he excused
+himself on the plea of urgent business at the office, and left the room.
+
+Shirley, left alone at the breakfast-table, picked idly at the preserved
+figs the owlish butler set before her. Vaguely she wondered at her
+uncle's apparent hostility to the Cardigans; she was as vaguely troubled
+in the knowledge that until she should succeed in eradicating this
+hostility, it must inevitably act as a bar to the further progress of
+her friendship with Bryce Cardigan. And she told herself she did not
+want to lose that friendship. She wasn't the least bit in love with him
+albeit she realized he was rather lovable. The delight which she had
+experienced in his society lay in the fact that he was absolutely
+different from any other man she had met. His simplicity, his utter lack
+of "swank," his directness, his good nature, and dry sense of humour
+made him shine luminously in comparison with the worldly, rather
+artificial young men she had previously met--young men who said and did
+only those things which time, tradition, and hallowed memory assured
+them were done by the right sort of people. Shirley had a suspicion that
+Bryce Cardigan could--and would--swear like a pirate should his temper
+be aroused and the circumstances appear to warrant letting off steam.
+Also she liked him because he was imaginative--because he saw and sensed
+and properly understood without a diagram or a blueprint. And lastly,
+he was a good, devoted son and was susceptible of development into
+a congenial and wholly acceptable comrade to a young lady absolutely
+lacking in other means of amusement.
+
+She finished her breakfast in thoughtful silence; then she went to the
+telephone and called up Bryce at his home. Mrs. Tully, all aflutter with
+curiosity, was quite insistent that Shirley should leave her name and
+telephone number, but failing to carry her point, consented to inform
+the latter that Mr. Bryce was at the office. She gave Shirley the
+telephone number.
+
+When the girl called the Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company, Bryce
+answered. He recognized her voice instantly and called her name before
+she had opportunity to announce her identity.
+
+"Thank you so much for the beautiful roses, Mr. Cardigan," she began.
+
+"I'm glad you liked them. Nobody picks flowers out of our garden, you
+know. I used to, but I'll be too busy hereafter to bother with the
+garden."
+
+"Very well. Then I am not to expect any more roses?"
+
+"I'm a stupid clodhopper. Of course you may. By the way, Miss Sumner,
+does your uncle own a car?"
+
+"I believe he does--a little old rattletrap which he drives himself."
+
+"Then I'll send George over with the Napier this afternoon. You might
+care to take a spin out into the surrounding country. By the way,
+Miss Sumner, you are to consider George and that car as your personal
+property. I fear you're going to find Sequoia a dull place; so whenever
+you wish to go for a ride, just call me up, and I'll have George report
+to you."
+
+"But think of all the expensive gasoline and tires!"
+
+"Oh, but you mustn't look at things from that angle after you cross the
+Rocky Mountains on your way west. Moreover, mine is the only real car
+in the country, and I know you like it. What are you going to do this
+afternoon?"
+
+"I don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead."
+
+"For some real sport I would suggest that you motor up to Laguna Grande.
+That's Spanish for Big Lagoon, you know. Take a rod with you. There are
+some land-locked salmon in the lagoon--that is, there used to be; and if
+you hook one you'll get a thrill."
+
+"But I haven't any rod."
+
+"I'll send you over a good one."
+
+"But I have nobody to teach me how to use it," she hinted daringly.
+
+"I appreciate that compliment," he flashed back at her, "but
+unfortunately my holidays are over for a long, long time. I took my
+father's place in the business this morning."
+
+"So soon?"
+
+"Yes. Things have been happening while I was away. However, speaking of
+fishing, George Sea Otter will prove an invaluable instructor. He is a
+good boy and you may trust him implicitly. On Thursday evening you can
+tell me what success you had with the salmon."
+
+"Oh, that reminds me, Mr. Cardigan. You can't come Thursday evening,
+after all." And she explained the reason.
+
+"By Jove," he replied, "I'm mighty glad you tipped me off about that.
+I couldn't possibly remain at ease in the presence of a
+banker-particularly one who will not lend me money."
+
+"Suppose you come Wednesday night instead."
+
+"We'll call that a bet. Thank you."
+
+She chuckled at his frank good humour. "Thank YOU, Mr Cardigan, for all
+your kindness and thoughtfulness; and if you WILL persist in being nice
+to me, you might send George Sea Otter and the car at one-thirty. I'll
+be glad to avail myself of both until I can get a car of my own sent up
+from San Francisco. Till Wednesday night, then. Good-bye."
+
+As Bryce Cardigan hung up, he heaved a slight sigh, and a parody on a
+quatrain from "Lalla Rookh" ran through his mind:
+
+I never loved a dear gazelle, To glad me with its limpid eye, But when I
+learned to love it well, The gol-darned thing was sure to die!
+
+It was difficult to get out of the habit of playing; he found himself
+the possessor of a very great desire to close down the desk, call
+on Shirley Sumner, and spend the remainder of the day basking in the
+sunlight of her presence.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+The days passed swiftly, as they have a habit of passing after one has
+discovered one's allotted task in life and has proceeded to perform
+it. Following his discovery of the outrage committed on his father's
+sanctuary, Bryce wasted considerable valuable time and effort in a
+futile endeavour to gather some further hint of the identity of the
+vandals; but despairing at last, he dismissed the matter from his mind,
+resolving only that on Thursday he would go up into Pennington's woods
+and interview the redoubtable Jules Rondeau. Bryce's natural inclination
+was to wait upon M. Rondeau immediately, if not sooner, but the
+recollection of his dinner engagement at the Pennington home warned him
+to proceed cautiously; for while harbouring no apprehensions as to the
+outcome of a possible clash with Rondeau, Bryce was not so optimistic as
+to believe he would escape unscathed from an encounter. Experience had
+impressed upon him the fact that in a rough-and-tumble battle nobody is
+quite so thoroughly at home as a lumberjack; once in a clinch with
+such a man, even a champion gladiator of the prize ring may well feel
+apprehensive of the outcome.
+
+Wednesday evening at five o'clock Mr. Sinclair, the manager, came
+into Bryce's office with a handful of folded papers. "I have here," he
+announced in his clerky voice with a touch of solemnity to it, "a trial
+balance. I have not had time to make an exact inventory; but in order
+to give you some idea of the condition of your father's affairs, I have
+used approximate figures and prepared a profit-and-loss account."
+
+Bryce reached for the papers.
+
+"You will note the amount charged off to profit and loss under the head
+of 'Pensions,'" Sinclair continued. "It amounts approximately to two
+thousand dollars a month, and this sum represents payments to crippled
+employees and the dependent families of men killed in the employ of the
+Company."
+
+"In addition to these payments, your father owns thirty-two thirty-acre
+farms which he has cleared from his logged-over lands. These little
+farms are equipped with bungalows and outbuildings built by your father
+and represent a considerable investment. As you know, these farms are
+wonderfully rich, and are planted in apples and berries. Other lands
+contiguous to them sell readily at two hundred dollars an acre, and so
+you will see that your father has approximately two hundred thousand
+dollars tied up in these little farms."
+
+"But he has given a life-lease at nothing a year for each farm to former
+employees who have been smashed beyond the possibility of doing the hard
+work of the mill and woods," Bryce reminded the manager. "Hence you must
+not figure those farms among our assets."
+
+"Why not?" Sinclair replied evenly. "Formal leases have never been
+executed, and the tenants occupy the property at your father's
+pleasure."
+
+"I think that will be about as far as the discussion on that point need
+proceed," Bryce replied smilingly. "My father's word has always been
+considered sufficient in this country; his verbal promise to pay has
+always been collateral enough for those who know him."
+
+"But my dear boy," Sinclair protested, "while that sort of philanthropy
+is very delightful when one can afford the luxury, it is scarcely
+practical when one is teetering on the verge of financial ruin. After
+all, Bryce, self-preservation is the first law of human nature, and
+the sale of those farms would go a long way toward helping the Cardigan
+Redwood Lumber Company out of the hole it is in at present."
+
+"And we're really teetering on the edge of financial ruin, eh?" Bryce
+queried calmly.
+
+"That is expressing your condition mildly. The semi-annual payment of
+interest on the bonded indebtedness falls due on July first--and we're
+going to default on it, sure as death and taxes. Colonel Pennington
+holds a majority of our bonds, and that means prompt suit for
+foreclosure."
+
+"Well, then, Sinclair," Bryce retorted, carefully pigeon-holing the
+documents the manager had handed him, "I'll tell you what we'll do. For
+fifty years my father has played the game in this community like a sport
+and a gentleman, and I'll be damned if his son will dog it now, at the
+finish. I gather from your remarks that we could find ready sale for
+those thirty-two little farms?"
+
+"I am continually receiving offers for them."
+
+"Then they were not included in the list of properties covered by our
+bonded indebtedness?"
+
+"No, your father refused to include them. He said he would take a chance
+on the financial future of himself and his boy, but not on his helpless
+dependents."
+
+"Good old John Cardigan! Well, Sinclair, I'll not take a chance on them
+either; so to-morrow morning you will instruct our attorney to draw
+up formal life-leases on those farms, and to make certain they are
+absolutely unassailable. Colonel Pennington may have the lands sold to
+satisfy a deficiency judgment against us, but while those life-leases
+from the former owner are in force, my father's proteges cannot be
+dispossessed. After they are dead, of course, Pennington may take the
+farms--and be damned to him."
+
+Sinclair stared in frank amazement at his youthful superior. "You are
+throwing away two hundred thousand dollars," he said distinctly.
+
+"I haven't thrown it away--yet. You forget, Sinclair, that we're going
+to fight first--and fight like fiends; then if we lose--well, the
+tail goes with the hide, By the way, Sinclair, are any of those farms
+untenanted at the present time?"
+
+"Yes. Old Bill Tarpey, who lost his three boys in a forest fire over
+on the San Hedrin, passed out last week. The Tarpey boys died in the
+Cardigan employ, and so your father gave Bill the use of a farm out near
+Freshwater."
+
+"Well, you'd better be his successor, Sinclair. You're no longer a young
+man, and you've been thirty years in this office. Play safe, Sinclair,
+and include yourself in one of those life-leases."
+
+"My dear boy--"
+
+"Nonsense! United we stand, divided we fall, Sinclair; and let there be
+no moaning of the bar when a Cardigan puts out to sea."
+
+Smiling, he rose from his desk, patted the bewildered Sinclair on the
+latter's grizzled head, and then reached for his hat. "I'm dining out
+to-night, Sinclair, and I wouldn't be a kill-joy at the feast, for a
+ripe peach. Your confounded figures might make me gloomy; so we'll just
+reserve discussion of them till to-morrow morning. Be a sport, Sinclair,
+and for once in your life beat the six o'clock whistle. In other words,
+I suggest that you go home and rest for once."
+
+He left Sinclair staring at him rather stupidly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+Colonel Pennington's imported British butler showed Bryce into the
+Pennington living room at six-thirty, announcing him with due ceremony.
+Shirley rose from the piano where she had been idly fingering the keys
+and greeted him with every appearance of pleasure--following which, she
+turned to present her visitor to Colonel Pennington, who was standing in
+his favourite position with his back to the fireplace.
+
+"Uncle Seth, this is Mr. Cardigan, who was so very nice to me the day I
+landed in Red Bluff."
+
+The Colonel bowed. "I have to thank you, sir, for your courtesy to my
+niece." He had assumed an air of reserve, of distinct aloofness, despite
+his studied politeness. Bryce stepped forward with extended hand, which
+the Colonel grasped in a manner vaguely suggestive of that clammy-palmed
+creation of Charles Dickens--Uriah Heep. Bryce was tempted to squeeze
+the lax fingers until the Colonel should bellow with pain; but resisting
+the ungenerous impulse, he replied instead:
+
+"Your niece, Colonel, is one of those fortunate beings the world will
+always clamour to serve."
+
+"Quite true, Mr. Cardigan. When she was quite a little girl I came under
+her spell myself."
+
+"So did I, Colonel. Miss Sumner has doubtless told you of our first
+meeting some twelve years ago?"
+
+"Quite so. May I offer you a cocktail, Mr. Cardigan?"
+
+"Thank you, certainly. Dad and I have been pinning one on about this
+time every night since my return."
+
+"Shirley belongs to the Band of Hope," the Colonel explained. "She's
+ready at any time to break a lance with the Demon Rum. Back in Michigan,
+where we used to live, she saw too many woodsmen around after the spring
+drive. So we'll have to drink her share, Mr. 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."
+
+"But aren't they liable to fall off and get killed?"
+
+"No. You see, they're used to fighting that way. Moreover, the engineer
+looks back, and if he sees any signs of Donnybrook Fair, he slows down."
+
+"How horrible!"
+
+"Yes, indeed. The right of way is lined with empty whiskey bottles."
+
+Colonel Pennington spoke up. "We don't have any fighting on the
+mad-train any more," he said blandly.
+
+"Indeed! How do you prevent it?" Bryce asked.
+
+"My woods-boss, Jules Rondeau, makes them keep the peace," Pennington
+replied with a small smile. "If there's any fighting to be done, he does
+it."
+
+"You mean among his own crew, of course," Bryce suggested.
+
+"No, he's in charge of the mad-train, and whether a fight starts among
+your men or ours, he takes a hand. He's had them all behaving mildly for
+quite a while, because he can whip any man in the country, and everybody
+realizes it. I don't know what I'd do without Rondeau. He certainly
+makes those bohunks of mine step lively."
+
+"Oh-h-h! Do you employ bohunks, Colonel?"
+
+"Certainly. They cost less; they are far less independent than most
+men and more readily handled. And you don't have to pamper
+them--particularly in the matter of food. Why, Mr Cardigan, with all due
+respect to your father, the way he feeds his men is simply ridiculous!
+Cake and pie and doughnuts at the same meal!" The Colonel snorted
+virtuously.
+
+"Well, Dad started in to feed his men the same food he fed himself, and
+I suppose the habits one forms in youth are not readily changed in old
+age, Colonel."
+
+"But that makes it hard for other manufacturers," the Colonel protested.
+"I feed my men good plain food and plenty of it--quite better food than
+they were used to before they came to this country; but I cannot seem to
+satisfy them. I am continuously being reminded, when I do a thing thus
+and so, that John Cardigan does it otherwise. Your respected parent
+is the basis for comparison in this country, Cardigan, and I find
+it devilish inconvenient." He laughed indulgently and passed his
+cigarette-case to Bryce.
+
+"Uncle Seth always grows restless when some other man is the leader,"
+Shirley volunteered with a mischievous glance at Pennington. "He was the
+Great Pooh-Bah of the lumber-trade back in Michigan, but out here he has
+to play second fiddle. Don't you, Nunky-dunk?"
+
+"I'm afraid I do, my dear," the Colonel admitted with his best air of
+hearty expansiveness. "I'm afraid I do. However, Mr. Cardigan, now that
+you have--at least, I have been so informed--taken over your father's
+business, I am hoping we will be enabled to get together on many little
+details and work them out on a common basis to our mutual advantage. We
+lumbermen should stand together and not make it hard for each other. For
+instance, your scale of wages is totally disproportionate to the present
+high cost of manufacture and the mediocre market; yet just because you
+pay it, you set a precedent which we are all forced to follow. However,"
+he concluded, "let's not talk shop. I imagine we have enough of that
+during the day. Besides, here are the cocktails."
+
+With the disposal of the cocktails, the conversation drifted into a
+discussion of Shirley's adventures with a salmon in Big Lagoon.
+The Colonel discoursed learnedly on the superior sport of
+muskellunge-fishing, which prompted Bryce to enter into a description
+of going after swordfish among the islands of the Santa Barbara channel.
+"Trout-fishing when the fish gets into white water is good sport;
+salmon-fishing is fine, and the steel-head in Eel River are hard to
+beat; muskellunge are a delight, and tarpon are not so bad if you're
+looking for thrills; but for genuine inspiration give me a sixteen-foot
+swordfish that will leap out of the water from three to six feet, and do
+it three or four hundred times--all on a line and rod so light one dares
+not state the exact weight if he values his reputation for veracity.
+Once I was fishing at San--"
+
+The butler appeared in the doorway and bowed to Shirley, at the time
+announcing that dinner was served. The girl rose and gave her arm to
+Bryce; with her other arm linked through her uncle's she turned toward
+the dining room.
+
+Just inside the entrance Bryce paused. The soft glow of the candles in
+the old-fashioned silver candlesticks upon the table was reflected
+in the polished walls of the room-walls formed of panels of the most
+exquisitely patterned redwood burl Bryce Cardigan had ever seen. Also
+the panels were unusually large.
+
+Shirley Sumner's alert glance followed Bryce's as it swept around
+the room. "This dining room is Uncle Seth's particular delight, Mr.
+Cardigan," she explained.
+
+"It is very beautiful, Miss Sumner. And your uncle has worked wonders
+in the matter of having it polished. Those panels are positively the
+largest and most beautiful specimens of redwood burl ever turned out in
+this country. The grain is not merely wavy; it is not merely curly; it
+is actually so contrary that you have here, Colonel Pennington, a room
+absolutely unique, in that it is formed of bird's-eye burl. Mark the
+deep shadows in it. And how it does reflect those candles!"
+
+"It is beautiful," the Colonel declared. "And I must confess to a
+pardonable pride in it, although the task of keeping these walls from
+being marred by the furniture knocking against them requires the utmost
+care."
+
+Bryce turned and his brown eyes blazed into the Colonel's. "Where DID
+you succeed in finding such a marvellous tree?" he queried pointedly.
+"I know of but one tree in Humboldt County that could have produced such
+beautiful burl."
+
+For about a second Colonel Pennington met Bryce's glance unwaveringly;
+then he read something in his guest's eyes, and his glance shifted,
+while over his benign countenance a flush spread quickly. Bryce noted
+it, and his quickly roused suspicions were as quickly kindled into
+certainty. "Where did you find that tree?" he repeated innocently.
+
+"Rondeau, my woods-boss, knew I was on the lookout for something
+special--something nobody else could get; so he kept his eyes open."
+
+"Indeed!" There was just a trace of irony in Bryce's tones as he
+drew Shirley's chair and held it for her. "As you say, Colonel, it is
+difficult to keep such soft wood from being marred by contact with
+the furniture. And you are fortunate to have such a woods-boss in your
+employ. Such loyal fellows are usually too good to be true, and quite
+frequently they put their blankets on their backs and get out of the
+country when you least expect it. I dare say it would be a shock to you
+if Rondeau did that."
+
+There was no mistaking the veiled threat behind that apparently
+innocent observation, and the Colonel, being a man of more than ordinary
+astuteness, realized that at last he must place his cards on the table.
+His glance, as he rested it on Bryce now, was baleful, ophidian. "Yes,"
+he said, "I would be rather disappointed. However, I pay Rondeau rather
+more than it is customary to pay woods-bosses; so I imagine he'll
+stay--unless, of course, somebody takes a notion to run him out of
+the county. And when that happens, I want to be on hand to view the
+spectacle."
+
+Bryce sprinkled a modicum of salt in his soup. "I'm going up into
+Township Nine to-morrow afternoon," he remarked casually. "I think I
+shall go over to your camp and pay the incomparable Jules a brief visit.
+Really, I have heard so much about that woods-boss of yours, Colonel,
+that I ache to take him apart and see what makes him go."
+
+Again the Colonel assimilated the hint, but preferred to dissemble.
+"Oh, you can't steal him from me, Cardigan," he laughed. "I warn you in
+advance--so spare yourself the effort."
+
+"I'll try anything once," Bryce retorted with equal good nature.
+"However, I don't want to steal him from you. I want to ascertain from
+him where he procured this burl. There may be more of the same in the
+neighbourhood where he got this."
+
+"He wouldn't tell you."
+
+"He might. I'm a persuasive little cuss when I choose to exert myself."
+
+"Rondeau is not communicative. He requires lots of persuading."
+
+"What delicious soup!" Bryce murmured blandly. "Miss Sumner, may I have
+a cracker?"
+
+The dinner passed pleasantly; the challenge and defiance between guest
+and host had been so skillfully and gracefully exchanged that Shirley
+hadn't the slightest suspicion that these two well-groomed men had,
+under her very nose, as it were, agreed to be enemies and then, for the
+time being, turned their attention to other and more trifling matters.
+Coffee was served in the living room, and through the fragrant smoke
+of Pennington's fifty-cent perfectos a sprightly three-cornered
+conversation continued for an hour. Then the Colonel, secretly enraged
+at the calm, mocking, contemplative glances which Bryce ever and anon
+bestowed upon him, and unable longer to convince himself that he was too
+apprehensive--that this cool young man knew nothing and would do nothing
+even if he knew something--rose, pleaded the necessity for looking over
+some papers, and bade Bryce good-night. Foolishly he proffered Bryce a
+limp hand; and a demon of deviltry taking possession of the latter, this
+time he squeezed with a simple, hearty earnestness, the while he said:
+
+"Colonel Pennington, I hope I do not have to assure you that my visit
+here this evening has not only been delightful but--er--instructive.
+Good-night, sir, and pleasant dreams."
+
+With difficulty the Colonel suppressed a groan. However, he was not
+the sort of man who suffers in silence; for a minute later the butler,
+leaning over the banisters as his master climbed the stairs to his
+library, heard the latter curse with an eloquence that was singularly
+appealing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+Colonel Seth Pennington looked up sourly as a clerk entered his private
+office. "Well?" he demanded brusquely. When addressing his employees,
+the Colonel seldom bothered to assume his pontifical manner.
+
+"Mr. Bryce Cardigan is waiting to see you, sir."
+
+"Very well. Show him in."
+
+Bryce entered. "Good morning, Colonel," he said pleasantly and brazenly
+thrust out his hand.
+
+"Not for me, my boy," the Colonel assured him. "I had enough of that
+last night. We'll just consider the hand-shaking all attended to, if
+you please. Have a chair; sit down and tell me what I can do to make you
+happy."
+
+"I'm delighted to find you in such a generous frame of mind, Colonel.
+You can make me genuinely happy by renewing, for ten years on the same
+terms as the original contract, your arrangement to freight the logs of
+the Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company from the woods to tidewater."
+
+Colonel Pennington cleared his throat with a propitiatory "Ahem-m-m!"
+Then he removed his gold spectacles and carefully wiped them with a silk
+handkerchief, as carefully replaced them upon his aristocratic nose, and
+then gazed curiously at Bryce.
+
+"Upon my soul!" he breathed.
+
+"I realized, of course, that this is reopening an issue which you have
+been pleased to regard as having been settled in the last letter my
+father had from you, and wherein you named terms that were absolutely
+prohibitive."
+
+"My dear young friend! My very dear young friend! I must protest at
+being asked to discuss this matter. Your father and I have been over it
+in detail; we failed to agree, and that settles it. As a matter of fact,
+I am not in position to handle your logs with my limited rolling-stock,
+and that old hauling contract which I took over when I bought the mills,
+timber-lands, and logging railroad from the late Mr. Henderson and
+incorporated into the Laguna Grande Lumber Company, has been an
+embarrassment I have longed to rid myself of. Under those circumstances
+you could scarcely expect me to saddle myself with it again, at your
+mere request and solely to oblige you."
+
+"I did not expect you to agree to my request. I am not quite that
+optimistic," Bryce replied evenly.
+
+"Then why did you ask me?"
+
+"I thought that possibly, if I reopened negotiations, you might have a
+reasonable counter-proposition to suggest."
+
+"I haven't thought of any."
+
+"I suppose if I agreed to sell you that quarter-section of timber in
+the little valley over yonder" (he pointed to the east) "and the natural
+outlet for your Squaw Creek timber, you'd quickly think of one," Bryce
+suggested pointedly.
+
+"No, I am not in the market for that Valley of the Giants, as your
+idealistic father prefers to call it. Once I would have purchased it for
+double its value, but at present I am not interested."
+
+"Nevertheless it would be an advantage for you to possess it."
+
+"My dear boy, the possession of that big timber is an advantage I expect
+to enjoy before I acquire many more gray hairs. But I do not expect to
+pay for it."
+
+"Do you expect me to offer it to you as a bonus for renewing our hauling
+contract?"
+
+The Colonel snapped his fingers. "By George," he declared, "that's a
+bright idea, and a few months ago I would have been inclined to consider
+it very seriously. But now--"
+
+"You figure you've got us winging, eh?" Bryce was smiling pleasantly.
+
+"I am making no admissions," Pennington responded enigmatically "--nor
+any hauling contracts for my neighbour's logs," he added.
+
+"You may change your mind."
+
+"Never."
+
+"I suppose I'll have to abandon logging in Township Nine and go back to
+the San Hedrin," Bryce sighed resignedly.
+
+"If you do, you'll go broke. You can't afford it. You're on the verge of
+insolvency this minute."
+
+"I suppose, since you decline to haul our logs, after the expiration
+of our present contract, and in view of the fact that we are not
+financially able to build our own logging railroad, that the wisest
+course my father and I could pursue would be to sell our timber in
+Township Nine to you. It adjoins your holdings in the same township"
+
+"I had a notion the situation would begin to dawn upon you." The Colonel
+was smiling now; his handsome face was gradually assuming the expression
+pontifical. "I'll give you a dollar a thousand feet stumpage for it."
+
+"On whose cruise?"
+
+"Oh, my own cruisers will estimate it."
+
+"I'm afraid I can't accept that offer. We paid a dollar and a half for
+it, you know, and if we sold it to you at a dollar, the sale would not
+bring us sufficient money to take up our bonded indebtedness; we'd only
+have the San Hedrin timber and the Valley of the Giants left, and since
+we cannot log either of these at present, naturally we'd be out of
+business."
+
+"That's the way I figured it, my boy."
+
+"Well--we're not going out of business."
+
+"Pardon me for disagreeing with you. I think you are."
+
+"Not much! We can't afford it."
+
+The Colonel smiled benignantly. "My dear boy, my very dear young friend,
+listen to me. Your paternal ancestor is the only human being who has
+ever succeeded in making a perfect monkey of me. When I wanted to
+purchase from him a right of way through his absurd Valley of the
+Giants, in order that I might log my Squaw Creek timber, he refused
+me. And to add insult to injury, he spouted a lot of rot about his big
+trees, how much they meant to him, and the utter artistic horror of
+running a logging-train through the grove--particularly since he planned
+to bequeath it to Sequoia as a public park. He expects the city to grow
+up to it during the next twenty years.
+
+"My boy, that was the first bad break your father made. His second break
+was his refusal to sell me a mill-site. He was the first man in this
+county, and he had been shrewd enough to hog all the water-front real
+estate and hold onto it. I remember he called himself a progressive
+citizen, and when I asked him why he was so assiduously blocking the
+wheels of progress, he replied that the railroad would build in from
+the south some day, but that when it did, its builders would have to be
+assured of terminal facilities on Humboldt Bay. 'By holding intact the
+spot where rail and water are bound to meet,' he told me, 'I insure the
+terminal on tidewater which the railroad must have before consenting to
+build. But if I sell it to Tom, Dick, and Harry, they will be certain to
+gouge the railroad when the latter tries to buy it from them. They may
+scare the railroad away.'"
+
+"Naturally!" Bryce replied. "The average human being is a hog, and
+merciless when he has the upper hand. He figures that a bird in the hand
+is worth two in the bush. My father, on the contrary, has always planned
+for the future. He didn't want that railroad blocked by land-speculators
+and its building delayed. The country needed rail connection with the
+outside world, and moreover his San Hedrin timber isn't worth a hoot
+until that feeder to a transcontinental road shall be built to tap it."
+
+"But he sold Bill Henderson the mill-site on tidewater that he refused
+to sell me, and later I had to pay Henderson's heirs a whooping price
+for it. And I haven't half the land I need."
+
+"But he needed Henderson then. They had a deal on together. You must
+remember, Colonel, that while Bill Henderson held that Squaw Creek
+timber he later sold you, my father would never sell him a mill-site.
+Can't you see the sporting point of view involved? My father and Bill
+Henderson were good-natured rivals; for thirty years they had tried
+to outgame each other on that Squaw Creek timber. Henderson thought he
+could force my father to buy at a certain price, and my father thought
+he could force Henderson to sell at a lesser price; they were perfectly
+frank about it with each other and held no grudges. Of course, after
+you bought Henderson out, you foolishly took over his job of trying to
+outgame my father. That's why you bought Henderson out, isn't it? You
+had a vision of my father's paying you a nice profit on your investment,
+but he fooled you, and now you're peeved and won't play."
+
+Bryce hitched his chair farther toward the Colonel. "Why shouldn't my
+dad be nice to Bill Henderson after the feud ended?" he continued. "They
+could play the game together then, and they did. Colonel, why can't you
+be as sporty as Henderson and my father? They fought each other, but
+they fought fairly and in the open, and they never lost the respect and
+liking each had for the other."
+
+"I will not renew your logging contract. That is final, young man. No
+man can ride me with spurs and get away with it."
+
+"Oh, I knew that yesterday."
+
+"Then why have you called on me to-day, taking up my time on a dead
+issue?"
+
+"I wanted to give you one final chance to repent. I know your plan.
+You have it in your power to smash the Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company,
+acquire it at fifty per cent. of its value, and merge its assets with
+your Laguna Grande Lumber Company. You are an ambitious man. You want
+to be the greatest redwood manufacturer in California, and in order
+to achieve your ambitions, you are willing to ruin a competitor: you
+decline to play the game like a thoroughbred."
+
+"I play the game of business according to the rules of the game; I do
+nothing illegal, sir."
+
+"And nothing generous or chivalrous. Colonel, you know your plea of a
+shortage of rolling-stock is that the contract for hauling our logs has
+been very profitable and will be more profitable in the future if you
+will accept a fifty-cent-per-thousand increase on the freight-rate and
+renew the contract for ten years."
+
+"Nothing doing, young man. Remember, you are not in a position to ask
+favours."
+
+"Then I suppose we'll have to go down fighting?"
+
+"I do not anticipate much of a fight."
+
+"You'll get as much as I can give you."
+
+"I'm not at all apprehensive."
+
+"And I'll begin by running your woods-boss out of the country."
+
+"Ah-h!"
+
+"You know why, of course--those burl panels in your dining room. Rondeau
+felled a tree in our Valley of the Giants to get that burl for you,
+Colonel Pennington."
+
+Pennington flushed. "I defy you to prove that," he almost shouted.
+
+"Very well. I'll make Rondeau confess; perhaps he'll even tell me
+who sent him after the burl. Upon my word, I think you inspired that
+dastardly raid. At any rate, I know Rondeau is guilty, and you, as his
+employer and the beneficiary of his crime, must accept the odium."
+
+The Colonel's face went white. "I do not admit anything except that
+you appear to have lost your head, young man. However, for the sake of
+argument: granting that Rondeau felled that tree, he did it under the
+apprehension that your Valley of the Giants is a part of my Squaw Creek
+timber adjoining."
+
+"I do not believe that. There was malice in the act--brutality even; for
+my mother's grave identified the land as ours, and Rondeau felled the
+tree on her tombstone."
+
+"If that is so, and Rondeau felled that tree--I do not believe he did--I
+am sincerely sorry, Cardigan, Name your price and I will pay you for the
+tree. I do not desire any trouble to develop over this affair."
+
+"You can't pay for that tree," Bryce burst forth. "No pitiful human
+being can pay in dollars and cents for the wanton destruction of God's
+handiwork. You wanted that burl and when my father was blind and could
+no longer make his Sunday pilgrimage up to that grove, your woods-boss
+went up and stole that which you knew you could not buy."
+
+"That will be about all from you, young man. Get out of my office. And
+by the way, forget that you have met my niece."
+
+"It's your office--so I'll get out. As for your second command"--he
+snapped his fingers in Pennington's face--"fooey!"
+
+When Bryce had gone, the Colonel hurriedly called his logging-camp on
+the telephone and asked for Jules Rondeau, only to be informed, by the
+timekeeper who answered the telephone, that Rondeau was up in the green
+timber with the choppers and could not be gotten to the telephone in
+less than two hours.
+
+"Do not send for him, then," Pennington commanded. "I'm coming up on
+the eleven-fifteen train and will talk to him when he comes in for his
+lunch."
+
+At eleven o'clock, and just as the Colonel was leaving to board the
+eleven-fifteen logging-train bound empty for the woods, Shirley Sumner
+made her appearance in his office.
+
+"Uncle Seth," she complained, "I'm lonesome. The bookkeeper tells me
+you're going up to the logging-camp. May I go with you?"
+
+"By all means. Usually I ride in the cab with the engineer and fireman;
+but if you're coming, I'll have them hook on the caboose. Step lively,
+my dear, or they'll be holding the train for us and upsetting our
+schedule."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+By virtue of their logging-contract with Pennington, the Cardigans
+and their employees were transported free over Pennington's logging
+railroad; hence, when Bryce Cardigan resolved to wait upon Jules Rondeau
+in the matter of that murdered Giant, it was characteristic of him to
+choose the shortest and most direct route to his quarry, and as the
+long string of empty logging-trucks came crawling off the Laguna Grande
+Lumber Company's log-dump, he swung over the side, quite ignorant of the
+fact that Shirley and her precious relative were riding in the little
+caboose in the rear.
+
+At twelve-ten the train slid in on the log landing of the Laguna Grande
+Lumber Company's main camp, and Bryce dropped off and approached the
+engineer of the little donkey-engine used for loading the logs.
+
+"Where's Rondeau?" he asked.
+
+The engineer pointed to a huge, swarthy man approaching across the
+clearing in which the camp was situated. "That's him," he replied. And
+without further ado, Bryce strode to meet his man.
+
+"Are you Jules Rondeau?" he demanded as he came up to the woods-boss.
+The latter nodded. "I'm Bryce Cardigan," his interrogator announced,
+"and I'm here to thrash you for chopping that big redwood tree over in
+that little valley where my mother is buried."
+
+"Oh!" Rondeau smiled. "Wiz pleasure, M'sieur." And without a moment's
+hesitation he rushed. Bryce backed away from him warily, and they
+circled.
+
+"When I get through with you, Rondeau," Bryce said distinctly, "it'll
+take a good man to lead you to your meals. This country isn't big enough
+for both of us, and since you came here last, you've got to go first."
+
+Bryce stepped in, feinted for Rondeau's jaw with his right, and when
+the woods-boss quickly covered, ripped a sizzling left into the latter's
+midriff. Rondeau grunted and dropped his guard, with the result that
+Bryce's great fists played a devil's tattoo on his countenance before he
+could crouch and cover.
+
+"This is a tough one," thought Bryce. His blows had not, apparently, had
+the slightest effect on the woods-boss. Crouched low and with his arms
+wrapped around his head, Rondeau still came on unfalteringly, and Bryce
+was forced to give way before him; to save his hands, he avoided the
+risk of battering Rondeau's hard head and sinewy arms.
+
+Already word that the woods-boss was battling with a stranger had been
+shouted into the camp dining room, and the entire crew of that camp,
+abandoning their half-finished meal, came pouring forth to view the
+contest. Out of the tail of his eye Bryce saw them coming, but he was
+not apprehensive, for he knew the code of the woodsman: "Let every man
+roll his own hoop." It would be a fight to a finish, for no man would
+interfere; striking, kicking, gouging, biting, or choking would not be
+looked upon as unsportsmanlike; and as Bryce backed cautiously away from
+the huge, lithe, active, and powerful man before him, he realized
+that Jules Rondeau was, as his father had stated, "top dog among the
+lumberjacks."
+
+Rondeau, it was apparent, had no stomach for Bryce's style of combat. He
+wanted a rough-and-tumble fight and kept rushing, hoping to clinch; if
+he could but get his great hands on Bryce, he would wrestle him down,
+climb him, and finish the fight in jig-time. But a rough-and-tumble was
+exactly what Bryce was striving to avoid; hence when Rondeau rushed,
+Bryce side-stepped and peppered the woodsman's ribs. But the woods-crew,
+which by now was ringed around them, began to voice disapproval of this
+style of battle.
+
+"Clinch with him, dancing-master," a voice roared.
+
+"Tie into him, Rondeau," another shouted.
+
+"It's a fair match," cried another, "and the red one picked on the main
+push. He was looking for a fight, an' he ought to get it; but these
+fancy fights don't suit me. Flop him, stranger, flop him."
+
+"Rondeau can't catch him," a fourth man jeered. "He's a foot-racer, not
+a fighter."
+
+Suddenly two powerful hands were placed between Bryce's shoulders,
+effectually halting his backward progress; then he was propelled
+violently forward until he collided with Rondeau. With a bellow of
+triumph, the woods-boss's gorilla-like arms were around Bryce, swinging
+him until he faced the man who had forced him into that terrible grip.
+This was no less a personage than Colonel Seth Pennington, and it was
+obvious he had taken charge of what he considered the obsequies.
+
+"Stand back, you men, and give them room," he shouted. "Rondeau will
+take care of him now. Stand back, I say. I'll discharge the man that
+interferes."
+
+With a heave and a grunt Rondeau lifted his antagonist, and the
+pair went crashing to the earth together, Bryce underneath. And then
+something happened. With a howl of pain, Rondeau rolled over on his back
+and lay clasping his left wrist in his right hand, while Bryce scrambled
+to his feet.
+
+"The good old wrist-lock does the trick," he announced; and stooping, he
+grasped the woods-boss by the collar with his left hand, lifted him, and
+struck him a terrible blow in the face with his right. But for the arm
+that upheld him, Rondeau would have fallen. To have him fall, however,
+was not part of Bryce's plan. Jerking the fellow toward him, he passed
+his arm around Rondeau's neck, holding the latter's head as in a vise
+with the crook of his elbow. And then the battering started. When it
+was finished, Bryce let his man go, and Rondeau, bloody, sobbing, and
+semi-conscious, sprawled on the ground.
+
+Bryce bent over him. "Now, damn you," he roared, "who felled that tree
+in Cardigan's Redwoods?"
+
+"I did, M'sieur. Enough--I confess!" The words were a whisper.
+
+"Did Colonel Pennington suggest it to you?"
+
+"He want ze burl. By gar, I do not want to fell zat tree--"
+
+"That's all I want to know." Stooping, Bryce seized Rondeau by the nape
+of the neck and the slack of his overalls, lifted him shoulder-high and
+threw him, as one throws a sack of meal, full at Colonel Pennington.
+
+"You threw me at him. Now I throw him at you. You damned, thieving,
+greedy, hypocritical scoundrel, if it weren't for your years and your
+gray hair, I'd kill you."
+
+The helpless hulk of the woods-boss descended upon the Colonel's
+expansive chest and sent him crashing earthward. Then Bryce, war-mad,
+turned to face the ring of Laguna Grande employees about him.
+
+"Next!" he roared. "Singly, in pairs, or the whole damned pack!"
+
+"Mr. Cardigan!"
+
+He turned. Colonel Pennington's breath had been knocked out of his
+body by the impact of his semi-conscious woods-boss, and he lay inert,
+gasping like a hooked fish. Beside him Shirley Sumner was kneeling, her
+hands clasping her uncle's, but with her violet eyes blazing fiercely on
+Bryce Cardigan.
+
+"How dare you?" she cried. "You coward! To hurt my uncle!"
+
+He gazed at her a moment, fiercely, defiantly, his chest rising and
+falling from his recent exertions, his knotted fists gory with the blood
+of his enemy. Then the light of battle died, and he hung his head. "I'm
+sorry," he murmured, "not for his sake, but yours. I didn't know you
+were here. I forgot--myself."
+
+"I'll never speak to you again so long as I live," she burst out
+passionately.
+
+He advanced a step and stood gazing down upon her. Her angry glance
+met his unflinchingly; and presently for him the light went out of the
+world.
+
+"Very well," he murmured. "Good-bye." And with bowed head he turned and
+made off through the green timber toward his own logging-camp five miles
+distant.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+With the descent upon his breast of the limp body of his big
+woods-bully, Colonel Pennington had been struck to earth as effectively
+as if a fair-sized tree had fallen on him. Indeed, with such force did
+his proud head collide with terra firma that had it not been for the
+soft cushion of ferns and tiny redwood twigs, his neck must have been
+broken by the shock. To complete his withdrawal from active service, the
+last whiff of breath had been driven from his lungs; and for the space
+of a minute, during which Jules Rondeau lay heavily across his midriff,
+the Colonel was quite unable to get it back. Pale, gasping, and jarred
+from soul to suspenders, he was merely aware that something unexpected
+and disconcerting had occurred.
+
+While the Colonel fought for his breath, his woodsmen remained in
+the offing, paralyzed into inactivity by reason of the swiftness and
+thoroughness of Bryce Cardigan's work; then Shirley motioned to them to
+remove the wreckage, and they hastened to obey.
+
+Freed from the weight on the geometric centre of his being, Colonel
+Pennington stretched his legs, rolled his head from side to side, and
+snorted violently several times like a buck. After the sixth snort he
+felt so much better that a clear understanding of the exact nature of
+the catastrophe came to him; he struggled and sat up, looking around a
+little wildly.
+
+"Where--did--Cardigan--go?" he gasped.
+
+One of his men pointed to the timber into which the enemy had just
+disappeared.
+
+"Surround him--take him," Pennington ordered. "I'll give--a month's
+pay--to each of--the six men that bring--that scoundrel to me. Get
+him--quickly! Understand?"
+
+Not a man moved. Pennington shook with fury. "Get him," he croaked.
+"There are enough of you to do--the job. Close in on him--everybody.
+I'll give a month's pay to--everybody."
+
+A man of that indiscriminate mixture of Spaniard and Indian known in
+California as cholo swept the circle of men with an alert and knowing
+glance. His name was Flavio Artelan, but his straight black hair, dark
+russet complexion, beady eyes, and hawk nose gave him such a resemblance
+to a fowl that he was known among his fellows as the Black Minorca,
+regardless of the fact that this sobriquet was scarcely fair to a
+very excellent breed of chicken. "That offer's good enough for me," he
+remarked in businesslike tones. "Come on--everybody. A month's pay for
+five minutes' work. I wouldn't tackle the job with six men, but there
+are twenty of us here."
+
+"Hurry," the Colonel urged them.
+
+Shirley Sumner's flashing glance rested upon the Black Minorca. "Don't
+you dare!" she cried. "Twenty to one! For shame!"
+
+"For a month's pay," he replied impudently, and grinned evilly. "And I'm
+takin' orders from my boss." He started on a dog-trot for the timber,
+and a dozen men trailed after him.
+
+Shirley turned helplessly on her uncle, seized his arm and shook it
+frantically. "Call them back! Call them back!" she pleaded.
+
+Her uncle got uncertainly to his feet. "Not on your life!" he growled,
+and in his cold gray eyes there danced the lights of a thousand devils.
+"I told you the fellow was a ruffian. Now, perhaps, you'll believe me.
+We'll hold him until Rondeau revives, and then--"
+
+Shirley guessed the rest, and she realized that it was useless to
+plead--that she was only wasting time. "Bryce! Bryce!" she called. "Run!
+They're after you. Twenty of them! Run, run--for my sake!"
+
+His voice answered her from the timber: "Run? From those cattle? Not
+from man or devil." A silence. Then: "So you've changed your mind, have
+you? You've spoken to me again!" There was triumph, exultation in his
+voice. "The timber's too thick, Shirley. I couldn't get away anyhow--so
+I'm coming back."
+
+She saw him burst through a thicket of alder saplings into the clearing,
+saw half a dozen of her uncle's men close in around him like wolves
+around a sick steer; and at the shock of their contact, she moaned and
+hid her face in her trembling hands.
+
+Half man and half tiger that he was, the Black Minorca, as
+self-appointed leader, reached Bryce first. The cholo was a squat,
+powerful little man, with more bounce to him than a rubber ball; leading
+his men by a dozen yards, he hesitated not an instant but dodged under
+the blow Bryce lashed out at him and came up inside the latter's guard,
+feeling for Bryce's throat. Instead he met Bryce's knee in his abdomen,
+and forthwith he folded up like an accordion.
+
+The next instant Bryce had stooped, caught him by the slack of the
+trousers and the scruff of the neck and thrown him, as he had thrown
+Rondeau, into the midst of the men advancing to his aid. Three of them
+went down backward; and Bryce, charging over them, stretched two more
+with well-placed blows from left and right, and continued on across
+the clearing, running at top speed, for he realized that for all
+the desperation of his fight and the losses already inflicted on his
+assailants, the odds against him were insurmountable.
+
+Seeing him running away, the Laguna Grande woods-men took heart and
+hope and pursued him. Straight for the loading donkey at the log-landing
+Bryce ran. Beside the donkey stood a neat tier of firewood; in the
+chopping block, where the donkey-fireman had driven it prior to
+abandoning his post to view the contest between Bryce and Jules Rondeau,
+was a double-bitted axe. Bryce jerked it loose, swung it, whirled on his
+pursuers, and rushed them. Like turkeys scattering before the raid of a
+coyote they fled in divers directions and from a safe distance turned to
+gaze apprehensively upon this demon they had been ordered to bring in.
+
+Bryce lowered the axe, removed his hat, and mopped his moist brow.
+From the centre of the clearing men were crawling or staggering to
+safety--with the exception of the Black Minorca, who lay moaning softly.
+Colonel Pennington, seeing his fondest hopes expire, lost his head
+completely.
+
+"Get off my property, you savage," he shrilled.
+
+"Don't be a nut, Colonel," Bryce returned soothingly. "I'll get
+off--when I get good and ready, and not a second sooner. In fact, I was
+trying to get off as rapidly as I could when you sent your men to bring
+me back. Prithee why, old thing? Didst crave more conversation with me,
+or didst want thy camp cleaned out?"
+
+He started toward Pennington, who backed hastily away. Shirley stood
+her ground, bending upon Bryce, as he approached her, a cold and
+disapproving glance. "I'll get you yet," the Colonel declared from the
+shelter of an old stump behind which he had taken refuge.
+
+"Barking dogs never bite, Colonel. And that reminds me: I've heard
+enough from you. One more cheep out of you, my friend, and I'll go up to
+my own logging-camp, return here with a crew of bluenoses and wild Irish
+and run your wops, bohunks, and cholos out of the county. I don't fancy
+the class of labour you're importing into this county, anyhow."
+
+The Colonel, evidently deciding that discretion was the better part of
+valour, promptly subsided, although Bryce could see that he was mumbling
+threats to himself, though not in an audible voice.
+
+The demon Cardigan halted beside Shirley and stood gazing down at her.
+He was smiling at her whimsically. She met his glance for a few seconds;
+then her lids were lowered and she bit her lip with vexation.
+
+"Shirley," he said.
+
+"You are presumptuous," she quavered.
+
+"You set me an example in presumption," he retorted good humouredly.
+"Did you not call ME by MY first name a minute ago?" He glanced toward
+Colonel Pennington and observed the latter with his neck craned across
+his protecting stump. He was all ears. Bryce pointed sternly across the
+clearing, and the Colonel promptly abandoned his refuge and retreated
+hastily in the direction indicated.
+
+The heir to Cardigan's Redwoods bent over the girl. "You spoke to
+me--after your promise not to, Shirley," he said gently. "You will
+always speak to me."
+
+She commenced to cry softly. "I loathe you," she sobbed.
+
+"For you I have the utmost respect and admiration," he replied.
+
+"No, you haven't. If you had, you wouldn't hurt my uncle--the only human
+being in all this world who is dear to me."
+
+"Gosh!" he murmured plaintively. "I'm jealous of that man. However, I'm
+sorry I hurt him. He is no longer young, while I--well, I forgot the
+chivalry my daddy taught me. I give you my word I came here to fight
+fairly--"
+
+"He merely tried to stop you from fighting."
+
+"No, he didn't, Shirley. He interfered and fouled me. Still, despite
+that, if I had known you were a spectator I think I should have
+controlled myself and refrained from pulling off my vengeance in your
+presence. I shall never cease to regret that I subjected you to such a
+distressing spectacle. I do hope, however, that you will believe me when
+I tell you I am not a bully, although when there is a fight worth while,
+I never dodge it. And this time I fought for the honour of the House of
+Cardigan."
+
+"If you want me to believe that, you will beg my uncle's pardon."
+
+"I can't do that. He is my enemy and I shall hate him forever; I
+shall fight him and his way of doing business until he reforms or I am
+exhausted."
+
+She looked up at him, showing a face in which resentment, outrage, and
+wistfulness were mirrored.
+
+"You realize, of course, what your insistence on that plan means, Mr.
+Cardigan?"
+
+"Call me Bryce," he pleaded. "You're going to call me that some day
+anyhow, so why not start now?"
+
+"You are altogether insufferable, sir. Please go away and never presume
+to address me again. You are quite impossible."
+
+He shook his head. "I do not give up that readily, Shirley. I didn't
+know how dear--what your friendship meant to me, until you sent me away;
+I didn't think there was any hope until you warned me those dogs were
+hunting me--and called me Bryce." He held out his hand. "'God gave us
+our relations,'" he quoted, "'but thank God, we can choose our friends.'
+And I'll be a good friend to you, Shirley Sumner, until I have earned
+the right to be something more. Won't you shake hands with me? Remember,
+this fight to-day is only the first skirmish in a war to the finish--and
+I am leading a forlorn hope. If I lose--well, this will be good-bye."
+
+"I hate you," she answered drearily. "All our fine
+friendship--smashed--and you growing stupidly sentimental. I didn't
+think it of you. Please go away. You are distressing me."
+
+He smiled at her tenderly, forgivingly, wistfully, but she did not see
+it. "Then it is really good-by," he murmured with mock dolorousness.
+
+She nodded her bowed head. "Yes," she whispered. "After all, I have
+some pride, you know. You mustn't presume to be the butterfly preaching
+contentment to the toad in the dust."
+
+"As you will it, Shirley." He turned away. "I'll send your axe back
+with the first trainload of logs from my camp, Colonel," he called to
+Pennington.
+
+Once more he strode away into the timber. Shirley watched him pass out
+of her life, and gloried in what she conceived to be his agony, for she
+had both temper and spirit, and Bryce Cardigan calmly, blunderingly,
+rather stupidly (she thought) had presumed flagrantly on brief
+acquaintance. Her uncle was right. He was not of their kind of people,
+and it was well she had discovered this before permitting herself
+to develop a livelier feeling of friendship for him. It was true he
+possessed certain manly virtues, but his crudities by far outweighed
+these.
+
+The Colonel's voice broke in upon her bitter reflections. "That fellow
+Cardigan is a hard nut to crack--I'll say that for him." He had crossed
+the clearing to her side and was addressing her with his customary air
+of expansiveness. "I think, my dear, you had better go back into the
+caboose, away from the prying eyes of these rough fellows. I'm sorry
+you came, Shirley. I'll never forgive myself for bringing you. If I had
+thought--but how could I know that scoundrel was coming here to raise a
+disturbance? And only last night he was at our house for dinner!"
+
+"That's just what makes it so terrible, Uncle Seth," she quavered.
+
+"It IS hard to believe that a man of young Cardigan's evident
+intelligence and advantages could be such a boor, Shirley. However, I,
+for one, am not surprised. You will recall that I warned you he might
+be his father's son. The best course to pursue now is to forget that you
+have ever met the fellow."
+
+"I wonder what could have occurred to make such a madman of him?" the
+girl queried wonderingly. "He acted more like a demon than a human
+being."
+
+"Just like his old father," the Colonel purred benevolently. "When
+he can't get what he wants, he sulks. I'll tell you what got on his
+confounded nerves. I've been freighting logs for the senior Cardigan
+over my railroad; the contract for hauling them was a heritage from old
+Bill Henderson, from whom I bought the mill and timber-lands; and of
+course as his assignee it was incumbent upon me to fulfill Henderson's
+contract with Cardigan, even though the freight-rate was ruinous.
+
+"Well, this morning young Cardigan came to my office, reminded me that
+the contract would expire by limitation next year and asked me to renew
+it, and at the same freight-rate. I offered to renew the contract but
+at a higher freight-rate, and explained to him that I could not possibly
+continue to haul his logs at a loss. Well, right away he flew into a
+rage and called me a robber; whereupon I informed him that since he
+thought me a robber, perhaps we had better not attempt to have any
+business dealings with each other--that I really didn't want his
+contract at any price, having scarcely sufficient rolling-stock to
+handle my own logs. That made him calm down, but in a little while he
+lost his head again and grew snarly and abusive--to such an extent,
+indeed, that finally I was forced to ask him to leave my office."
+
+"Nevertheless, Uncle Seth, I cannot understand why he should make such a
+furious attack upon your employee."
+
+The Colonel laughed with a fair imitation of sincerity and tolerant
+amusement. "My dear, that is no mystery to me. There are men who,
+finding it impossible or inadvisable to make a physical attack upon
+their enemy, find ample satisfaction in poisoning his favourite dog,
+burning his house, or beating up one of his faithful employees. Cardigan
+picked on Rondeau for the reason that a few days ago he tried to hire
+Rondeau away from me--offered him twenty-five dollars a month more than
+I was paying him, by George! Of course when Rondeau came to me with
+Cardigan's proposition, I promptly met Cardigan's bid and retained
+Rondeau; consequently Cardigan hates us both and took the earliest
+opportunity to vent his spite on us."
+
+The Colonel sighed and brushed the dirt and leaves from his tweeds.
+"Thunder," he continued philosophically, "it's all in the game, so
+why worry over it? And why continue to discuss an unpleasant topic, my
+dear?"
+
+A groan from the Black Minorca challenged her attention. "I think that
+man is badly hurt, Uncle," she suggested.
+
+"Serves him right," he returned coldly. "He tackled that cyclone full
+twenty feet in advance of the others; if they'd all closed in together,
+they would have pulled him down. I'll have that cholo and Rondeau sent
+down with the next trainload of logs to the company hospital. They're a
+poor lot and deserve manhandling--"
+
+They paused, facing toward the timber, from which came a voice,
+powerful, sweetly resonant, raised in song. Shirley knew that
+half-trained baritone, for she had heard it the night before when Bryce
+Cardigan, faking his own accompaniment at the piano, had sung for her a
+number of carefully expurgated lumberjack ballads, the lunatic humour of
+which had delighted her exceedingly. She marvelled now at his choice of
+minstrelsy, for the melody was hauntingly plaintive--the words Eugene
+Field's poem of childhood, "Little Boy Blue."
+
+   "The little toy dog is covered with dust,
+    But sturdy and stanch he stands;
+   And the little toy soldier is red with rust,
+    And his musket molds in his hands.
+   Time was when the little toy dog was new,
+    And the soldier was passing fair;
+   And that was the time when our little boy blue,
+    Kissed them and put them there."
+
+"Light-hearted devil, isn't he?" the Colonel commented approvingly. "And
+his voice isn't half bad. Just singing to be defiant, I suppose."
+
+Shirley did not answer. But a few minutes previously she had seen the
+singer a raging fury, brandishing an axe and driving men before him. She
+could not understand. And presently the song grew faint among the timber
+and died away entirely.
+
+Her uncle took her gently by the arm and steered her toward the caboose.
+"Well, what do you think of your company now?" he demanded gayly.
+
+"I think," she answered soberly, "that you have gained an enemy worth
+while and that it behooves you not to underestimate him."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+Through the green timber Bryce Cardigan strode, and there was a lilt
+in his heart now. Already he had forgotten the desperate situation from
+which he had just escaped; he thought only of Shirley Sumner's face,
+tear-stained with terror; and because he knew that at least some of
+those tears had been inspired by the gravest apprehensions as to his
+physical well-being, because in his ears there still resounded her
+frantic warning, he realized that however stern her decree of banishment
+had been, she was nevertheless not indifferent to him. And it was this
+knowledge that had thrilled him into song and which when his song was
+done had brought to his firm mouth a mobility that presaged his old
+whimsical smile--to his brown eyes a beaming light of confidence and
+pride.
+
+The climax had been reached--and passed; and the result had been far
+from the disaster he had painted in his mind's eye ever since the
+knowledge had come to him that he was doomed to battle to a knockout
+with Colonel Pennington, and that one of the earliest fruits of
+hostilities would doubtless be the loss of Shirley Sumner's prized
+friendship. Well, he had lost her friendship, but a still small voice
+whispered to him that the loss was not irreparable--whereat he swung his
+axe as a bandmaster swings his baton; he was glad that he had started
+the war and was now free to fight it out unhampered.
+
+Up hill and down dale he went. Because of the tremendous trees he could
+not see the sun; yet with the instinct of the woodsman, an instinct
+as infallible as that of a homing pigeon, he was not puzzled as to
+direction. Within two hours his long, tireless stride brought him out
+into a clearing in the valley where his own logging-camp stood. He went
+directly to the log-landing, where in a listless and half-hearted manner
+the loading crew were piling logs on Pennington's logging-trucks.
+
+Bryce looked at his watch. It was two o'clock; at two-fifteen
+Pennington's locomotive would appear, to back in and couple to the long
+line of trucks. And the train was only half loaded.
+
+"Where's McTavish?" Bryce demanded of the donkey-driver.
+
+The man mouthed his quid, spat copiously, wiped his mouth with the
+back of his hand, and pointed. "Up at his shanty," he made answer, and
+grinned at Bryce knowingly.
+
+Up through the camp's single short street, flanked on each side with
+the woodsmen's shanties, Bryce went. Dogs barked at him, for he was a
+stranger in his own camp; children, playing in the dust, gazed upon him
+owlishly. At the most pretentious shanty on the street Bryce turned in.
+He had never seen it before, but he knew it to be the woods-boss's home,
+for unlike its neighbours the house was painted with the coarse red
+paint that is used on box-cars, while a fence, made of fancy pointed
+pickets painted white, inclosed a tiny garden in front of the house. As
+Bryce came through the gate, a young girl rose from where she knelt in a
+bed of freshly transplanted pansies.
+
+Bryce lifted his hat. "Is Mr. McTavish at home?" he asked.
+
+She nodded. "He cannot see anybody," she hastened to add. "He's sick."
+
+"I think he'll see me. And I wonder if you're Moira McTavish."
+
+"Yes, I'm Moira."
+
+"I'm Bryce Cardigan."
+
+A look of fright crept into the girl's eyes. "Are you--Bryce Cardigan?"
+she faltered, and looked at him more closely. "Yes, you're Mr. Bryce.
+You've changed--but then it's been six years since we saw you last, Mr.
+Bryce."
+
+He came toward her with outstretched hand. "And you were a little girl
+when I saw you last. Now--you're a woman." She grasped his hand with the
+frank heartiness of a man. "I'm mighty glad to meet you again, Moira. I
+just guessed who you were, for of course I should never have recognized
+you. When I saw you last, you wore your hair in a braid down your back."
+
+"I'm twenty years old," she informed him.
+
+"Stand right where you are until I have looked at you," he commanded,
+and backed off a few feet, the better to contemplate her.
+
+He saw a girl slightly above medium height, tanned, robust, simply
+gowned in a gingham dress. Her hands were soiled from her recent labours
+in the pansy-bed, and her shoes were heavy and coarse; yet neither hands
+nor feet were large or ungraceful. Her head was well formed; her hair,
+jet black and of unusual lustre and abundance, was parted in the middle
+and held in an old-fashioned coil at the nape of a neck the beauty
+of which was revealed by the low cut of her simple frock. Moira was a
+decided brunette, with that wonderful quality of skin to be seen only
+among brunettes who have roses in their cheeks; her brow was broad and
+spiritual; in her eyes, large, black, and listrous, there was a brooding
+tenderness not untouched with sorrow--some such expression, indeed, as
+da Vinci put in the eyes of his Mona Lisa. Her nose was patrician, her
+face oval; her lips, full and red, were slightly parted in the adorable
+Cupid's bow which is the inevitable heritage of a short upper lip; her
+teeth were white as Parian marble; and her full breast was rising and
+falling swiftly, as if she laboured under suppressed excitement.
+
+So delightful a picture did Moira McTavish make that Bryce forgot all
+his troubles in her sweet presence. "By the gods, Moira," he declared
+earnestly, "you're a peach! When I saw you last, you were awkward and
+leggy, like a colt. I'm sure you weren't a bit good-looking. And now
+you're the most ravishing young lady in seventeen counties. By jingo,
+Moira, you're a stunner and no mistake. Are you married?"
+
+She shook her head, blushing pleasurably at his unpolished but sincere
+compliments.
+
+"What? Not married. Why, what the deuce can be the matter with the
+eligible young fellows hereabouts?"
+
+"There aren't any eligible young fellows hereabouts, Mr. Bryce. And I've
+lived in these woods all my life."
+
+"That's why you haven't been discovered."
+
+"And I don't intend to marry a lumberjack and continue to live in
+these woods," she went on earnestly, as if she found pleasure in this
+opportunity to announce her rebellion. Despite her defiance, however,
+there was a note of sad resignation in her voice.
+
+"You don't know a thing about it, Moira. Some bright day your Prince
+Charming will come by, riding the log-train, and after that it will
+always be autumn in the woods for you. Everything will just naturally
+turn to crimson and gold."
+
+"How do you know, Mr Bryce?"
+
+He laughed. "I read about it in a book."
+
+"I prefer spring in the woods, I think. It seems--It's so foolish of me,
+I know; I ought to be contented, but it's hard to be contented when it
+is always winter in one's heart. That frieze of timber on the skyline
+limits my world, Mr Bryce. Hills and timber, timber and hills, and the
+thunder of falling redwoods. And when the trees have been logged off so
+we can see the world, we move back into green timber again." She sighed.
+
+"Are you lonely, Moira?"
+
+She nodded.
+
+"Poor Moira!" he murmured absently.
+
+The thought that he so readily understood touched her; a glint of tears
+was in her sad eyes. He saw them and placed his arm fraternally
+around her shoulders. "Tut-tut, Moira! Don't cry," he soothed her. "I
+understand perfectly, and of course we'll have to do something about
+it. You're too fine for this." With a sweep of his hand he indicated the
+camp. He had led her to the low stoop in front of the shanty. "Sit down
+on the steps, Moira, and we'll talk it over. I really called to see your
+father, but I guess I don't want to see him after all--if he's sick."
+
+She looked at him bravely. "I didn't know you at first, Mr. Bryce. I
+fibbed. Father isn't sick. He's drunk."
+
+"I thought so when I saw the loading-crew taking it easy at the
+log-landing. I'm terribly sorry."
+
+"I loathe it--and I cannot leave it," she burst out vehemently. "I'm
+chained to my degradation. I dream dreams, and they'll never come true.
+I--I--oh Mr. Bryce, Mr. Bryce, I'm so unhappy."
+
+"So am I," he retorted. "We all get our dose of it, you know, and just
+at present I'm having an extra helping, it seems. You're cursed with too
+much imagination, Moira. I'm sorry about your father. He's been with us
+a long time, and my father has borne a lot from him for old sake's sake;
+he told me the other night that he has discharged Mac fourteen times
+during the past ten years, but to date he hasn't been able to make it
+stick. For all his sixty years, Moira, your confounded parent can still
+manhandle any man on the pay-roll, and as fast as Dad put in a new
+woods-boss old Mac drove him off the job. He simply declines to
+be fired, and Dad's worn out and too tired to bother about his old
+woods-boss any more. He's been waiting until I should get back."
+
+"I know," said Moira wearily. "Nobody wants to be Cardigan's woods-boss
+and have to fight my father to hold his job. I realize what a nuisance
+he has become."
+
+Bryce chuckled. "I asked Father why he didn't stand pat and let Mac work
+for nothing; having discharged him, my father was under no obligation
+to give him his salary just because he insisted on being woods-boss. Dad
+might have starved your father out of these woods, but the trouble
+was that old Mac would always come and promise reform and end up by
+borrowing a couple of hundred dollars, and then Dad had to hire him
+again to get it back! Of course the matter simmers down to this: Dad is
+so fond of your father that he just hasn't got the moral courage to work
+him over--and now that job is up to me. Moira, I'm not going to
+beat about the bush with you. They tell me your father is a hopeless
+inebriate."
+
+"I'm afraid he is, Mr. Bryce."
+
+"How long has he been drinking to excess?"
+
+"About ten years, I think. Of course, he would always take a few drinks
+with the men around pay-day, but after Mother died, he began taking
+his drinks between pay-days. Then he took to going down to Sequoia on
+Saturday nights and coming back on the mad-train, the maddest of the
+lot. I suppose he was lonely, too. He didn't get real bad, however, till
+about two years ago."
+
+"Just about the time my father's eyes began to fail him and he ceased
+coming up into the woods to jack Mac up? So he let the brakes go and
+started to coast, and now he's reached the bottom! I couldn't get him
+on the telephone to-day or yesterday. I suppose he was down in Arcata,
+liquoring up."
+
+She nodded miserably.
+
+"Well, we have to get logs to the mill, and we can't get them with
+old John Barleycorn for a woods-boss, Moira. So we're going to change
+woods-bosses, and the new woods-boss will not be driven off the job,
+because I'm going to stay up here a couple of weeks and break him in
+myself. By the way, is Mac ugly in his cups?"
+
+"Thank God, no," she answered fervently. "Drunk or sober, he has never
+said an unkind word to me."
+
+"But how do you manage to get money to clothe yourself? Sinclair tells
+me Mac needs every cent of his two hundred and fifty dollars a month to
+enjoy himself."
+
+"I used to steal from him," the girl admitted. "Then I grew ashamed of
+that, and for the past six months I've been earning my own living. Mr.
+Sinclair was very kind. He gave me a job waiting on table in the camp
+dining room. You see, I had to have something here. I couldn't leave my
+father. He had to have somebody to take care of him. Don't you see, Mr.
+Bryce?"
+
+"Sinclair is a fuzzy old fool," Bryce declared with emphasis. "The idea
+of our woods-boss's daughter slinging hash to lumberjacks. Poor Moira!"
+
+He took one of her hands in his, noting the callous spots on the plump
+palm, the thick finger-joints that hinted so of toil, the nails that had
+never been manicured save by Moira herself. "Do you remember when I was
+a boy, Moira, how I used to come up to the logging-camps to hunt and
+fish? I always lived with the McTavishes then. And in September, when
+the huckleberries were ripe, we used to go out and pick them together.
+Poor Moira! Why, we're old pals, and I'll be shot if I'm going to see
+you suffer."
+
+She glanced at him shyly, with beaming eyes. "You haven't changed a bit,
+Mr. Bryce. Not one little bit!"
+
+"Let's talk about you, Moira. You went to school in Sequoia, didn't
+you?"
+
+"Yes, I was graduated from the high school there. I used to ride the
+log-trains into town and back again."
+
+"Good news! Listen, Moira. I'm going to fire your father, as I've said,
+because he's working for old J.B. now, not the Cardigan Redwood Lumber
+Company. I really ought to pension him after his long years in the
+Cardigan service, but I'll be hanged if we can afford pensions
+any more--particularly to keep a man in booze; so the best our old
+woods-boss gets from me is this shanty, or another like it when we move
+to new cuttings, and a perpetual meal-ticket for our camp dining room
+while the Cardigans remain in business. I'd finance him for a trip to
+some State institution where they sometimes reclaim such wreckage, if I
+didn't think he's too old a dog to be taught new tricks."
+
+"Perhaps," she suggested sadly, "you had better talk the matter over
+with him."
+
+"No, I'd rather not. I'm fond of your father, Moira. He was a man when
+I saw him last--such a man as these woods will never see again--and
+I don't want to see him again until he's cold sober. I'll write him a
+letter. As for you, Moira, you're fired, too. I'll not have you waiting
+on table in my logging-camp--not by a jugful! You're to come down to
+Sequoia and go to work in our office. We can use you on the books,
+helping Sinclair, and relieve him of the task of billing, checking
+tallies, and looking after the pay-roll. I'll pay you a hundred dollars
+a month, Moira. Can you get along on that?"
+
+Her hard hand closed over his tightly, but she did not speak.
+
+"All right, Moira. It's a go, then. Hills and timber--timber and
+hills--and I'm going to set you free. Perhaps in Sequoia you'll find
+your Prince Charming. There, there, girl, don't cry. We Cardigans had
+twenty-five years of faithful service from Donald McTavish before he
+commenced slipping; after all, we owe him something, I think."
+
+She drew his hand suddenly to her lips and kissed it; her hot tears of
+joy fell on it, but her heart was too full for mere words.
+
+"Fiddle-de-dee, Moira! Buck up," he protested, hugely pleased, but
+embarrassed withal. "The way you take this, one would think you had
+expected me to go back on an old pal and had been pleasantly surprised
+when I didn't. Cheer up, Moira! Cherries are ripe, or at any rate they
+soon will be; and if you'll just cease shedding the scalding and listen
+to me, I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll advance you two months' salary
+for--well, you'll need a lot of clothes and things in Sequoia that you
+don't need here. And I'm glad I've managed to settle the McTavish hash
+without kicking up a row and hurting your feelings. Poor old Mac! I'm
+sorry I can't bear with him, but we simply have to have the logs, you
+know."
+
+He rose, stooped, and pinched her ear; for had he not known her since
+childhood, and had they not gathered huckleberries together in the
+long ago? She was sister to him--just another one of his problems--and
+nothing more. "Report on the job as soon as possible, Moira," he called
+to her from the gate. Then the gate banged behind him, and with a smile
+and a debonair wave of his hand, he was striding down the little camp
+street where the dogs and the children played in the dust.
+
+After a while Moira walked to the gate and leaning upon it, looked down
+the street toward the log-landing where Bryce was ragging the laggard
+crew into some thing like their old-time speed. Presently the locomotive
+backed in and coupled to the log tram, and when she saw Bryce leap
+aboard and seat himself on a top log in such a position that he could
+not fail to see her at the gate, she waved to him. He threw her a
+careless kiss, and the train pulled out.
+
+Presently, when Moira lifted her Madonna glance to the frieze of timber
+on the skyline, there was a new glory in her eyes; and lo, it was autumn
+in the woods, for over that hill Prince Charming had come to her, and
+life was all crimson and gold!
+
+When the train loaded with Cardigan logs crawled in on the main track
+and stopped at the log-landing in Pennington's camp, the locomotive
+uncoupled and backed in on the siding for the purpose of kicking the
+caboose, in which Shirley and Colonel Pennington had ridden to the
+woods, out onto the main line again--where, owing to a slight downhill
+grade, the caboose, controlled by the brakeman, could coast gently
+forward and be hooked on to the end of the log-train for the return
+journey to Sequoia.
+
+Throughout the afternoon Shirley, following the battle royal between
+Bryce and the Pennington retainers, had sat dismally in the caboose. She
+was prey to many conflicting emotions; but having had what her sex
+term "a good cry," she had to a great extent recovered her customary
+poise--and was busily speculating on the rapidity with which she could
+leave Sequoia and forget she had ever met Bryce Cardigan--when the
+log-train rumbled into the landing and the last of the long string of
+trucks came to a stop directly opposite the caboose.
+
+Shirley happened to be looking through the grimy caboose window at
+that moment. On the top log of the load the object of her unhappy
+speculations was seated, apparently quite oblivious of the fact that he
+was back once more in the haunt of his enemies, although knowledge that
+the double-bitted axe he had so unceremoniously borrowed of Colonel
+Pennington was driven deep into the log beside him, with the haft
+convenient to his hand, probably had much to do with Bryce's air of
+detached indifference. He was sitting with his elbows on his knees, his
+chin in his cupped hands, and a pipe thrust aggressively out the corner
+of his mouth, the while he stared moodily at his feet.
+
+Shirley suspected she knew what he was thinking of; he was less than
+six feet from her, and a morbid fascination moved her to remain at the
+window and watch the play of emotions over his strong, stern face.
+She told herself that should he move, should he show the slightest
+disposition to raise his head and bring his eyes on a level with hers,
+she would dodge away from the window in time to escape his scrutiny.
+
+She reckoned without the engine. With a smart bump it struck the caboose
+and shunted it briskly up the siding; at the sound of the impact Bryce
+raised his troubled glance just in time to see Shirley's body, yielding
+to the shock, sway into full view at the window.
+
+With difficulty he suppressed a grin. "I'll bet my immortal soul she
+was peeking at me," he soliloquized. "Confound the luck! Another meeting
+this afternoon would be embarrassing." Tactfully he resumed his study of
+his feet, not even looking up when the caboose, after gaining the main
+track, slid gently down the slight grade and was coupled to the rear
+logging-truck. Out of the tail of his eye he caught a glimpse of Colonel
+Pennington passing alongside the log-train and entering the caboose; he
+heard the engineer shout to the brakeman--who had ridden down from the
+head of the train to unlock the siding switch and couple the caboose--to
+hurry up, lock the switch, and get back aboard the engine.
+
+"Can't get this danged key to turn in the lock," the brakeman shouted
+presently. "Lock's rusty, and something's gone bust inside."
+
+Minutes passed. Bryce's assumed abstraction became real, for he had many
+matters to occupy his busy brain, and it was impossible for him to sit
+idle without adverting to some of them. Presently he was subconsciously
+aware that the train was moving gently forward; almost immediately, it
+seemed to him, the long string of trucks had gathered their customary
+speed; and then suddenly it dawned upon Bryce that the train had started
+off without a single jerk--and that it was gathering headway rapidly.
+
+He looked ahead--and his hair grew creepy at the roots. There was no
+locomotive attached to the train! It was running away down a two per
+cent. grade, and because of the tremendous weight of the train, it was
+gathering momentum at a fearful rate.
+
+The reason for the runaway dawned on Bryce instantly. The road, being
+privately owned, was, like most logging-roads, neglected as to roadbed
+and rolling-stock; also it was undermanned, and the brake-man, who also
+acted as switchman, had failed to set the hand-brakes on the leading
+truck after the engineer had locked the air-brakes. As a result, during
+the five or six minutes required to "spot in" the caboose, and an extra
+minute or two lost while the brakeman struggled with the recalcitrant
+lock on the switch, the air had leaked away through the worn valves
+and rubber tubing, and the brakes had been released--so that the train,
+without warning, had quietly and almost noiselessly slid out of the
+log-landing and started on its mad career. Before the engineer could
+beat it to the other switch with the locomotive, run out on the main
+track, let the runaway gradually catch up with him and hold
+it--no matter how or what happened to him or his engine--the first
+logging-truck had cleared the switch and blocked pursuit. There was
+nothing to do now save watch the wild runaway and pray, for of all the
+mad runaways in a mad world, a loaded logging-train is by far the worst.
+
+For an instant after realizing his predicament, Bryce Cardigan was
+tempted to jump and take his chance on a few broken bones, before the
+train could reach a greater speed than twenty miles an hour. His impulse
+was to run forward and set the handbrake on the leading truck, but a
+glance showed him that even with the train standing still he could not
+hope to leap from truck to truck and land on the round, freshly peeled
+surface of the logs without slipping for he had no calks in his boots.
+And to slip now meant swift and horrible death.
+
+"Too late!" he muttered. "Even if I could get to the head of the train,
+I couldn't stop her with the hand-brake; should I succeed in locking the
+wheels, the brute would be doing fifty miles an hour by that time--the
+front truck would slide and skid, leave the tracks and pile up with me
+at the bottom of a mess of wrecked rolling-stock and redwood logs."
+
+Then he remembered. In the wildly rolling caboose Shirley Sumner rode
+with her uncle, while less than two miles ahead, the track swung in a
+sharp curve high up along the hillside above Mad River. Bryce knew the
+leading truck would never take that curve at high speed, even if the
+ancient rolling-stock should hold together until the curve was reached,
+but would shoot off at a tangent into the canyon, carrying trucks, logs,
+and caboose with it, rolling over and over down the hillside to the
+river.
+
+"The caboose must be cut out of this runaway," Bryce soliloquized,
+"and it must be cut out in a devil of a hurry. Here goes nothing in
+particular, and may God be good to my dear old man."
+
+He jerked his axe out of the log, drove it deep into the top log toward
+the end, and by using the haft to cling to, crawled toward the rear
+of the load and looked down at the caboose coupling. The top log was
+a sixteen-foot butt; the two bottom logs were eighteen footers. With a
+silent prayer of thanks to Providence, Bryce slid down to the landing
+thus formed. He was still five feet above the coupling, however; but
+by leaning over the swaying, bumping edge and swinging the axe with one
+hand, he managed to cut through the rubber hose on the air connection.
+"The blamed thing might hold and drag the caboose along after I've
+pulled out the coupling-pin," he reflected. "And I can't afford to take
+chances now."
+
+Nevertheless he took them. Axe in hand, he leaped down to the narrow
+ledge formed by the bumper in front of the cabooses--driving his face
+into the front of the caboose; and he only grasped the steel rod leading
+from the brake-chains to the wheel on the roof in time to avoid falling
+half stunned between the front of the caboose and the rear of the
+logging-truck. The caboose had once been a box-car; hence there was
+no railed front platform to which Bryce might have leaped in safety.
+Clinging perilously on the bumper, he reached with his foot, got his toe
+under the lever on the side, jerked it upward, and threw the pin out
+of the coupling; then with his free hand he swung the axe and drove the
+great steel jaws of the coupling apart.
+
+The caboose was cut out! But already the deadly curve was in sight; in
+two minutes the first truck would reach it; and the caboose, though cut
+loose, had to be stopped, else with the headway it had gathered, it,
+too, would follow the logging-trucks to glory.
+
+For a moment Bryce clung to the brake-rod, weak and dizzy from the
+effects of the blow when, leaping down from the loaded truck to the
+caboose bumper, his face had smashed into the front of the caboose. His
+chin was bruised, skinned, and bloody; his nose had been broken, and
+twin rivulets of blood ran from his nostrils. He wiped it away, swung
+his axe, drove the blade deep into the bumper and left it there with the
+haft quivering; turning, he climbed swiftly up the narrow iron ladder
+beside the brake-rod until he reached the roof; then, still standing
+on the ladder, he reached the brake-wheel and drew it promptly but
+gradually around until the wheel-blocks began to bite, when he exerted
+his tremendous strength to the utmost and with his knees braced doggedly
+against the front of the caboose, held the wheel.
+
+The brake screamed, but the speed of the caboose was not appreciably
+slackened. "It's had too good a start!" Bryce moaned. "The momentum is
+more than I can overcome. Oh, Shirley, my love! God help you!"
+
+He cast a sudden despairing look over his shoulder downward at the
+coupling. He was winning, after all, for a space of six feet now yawned
+between the end of the logging-truck and the bumper of the caboose. If
+he could but hold that tremendous strain on the wheel for a quarter of
+a mile, he might get the demon caboose under control! Again he dug his
+knees into the front of the car and twisted on the wheel until it seemed
+that his muscles must crack.
+
+After what seemed an eon of waiting, he ventured another look ahead. The
+rear logging-truck was a hundred yards in front of him now, and from the
+wheels of the caboose an odour of something burning drifted up to him.
+"I've got your wheels locked!" he half sobbed. "I'll hold you yet, you
+brute. Slide! That's it! Slide, and flatten your infernal wheels. Hah!
+You're quitting--quitting. I'll have you in control before we reach the
+curve. Burn, curse you, burn!"
+
+With a shriek of metal scraping metal, the head of the Juggernaut ahead
+took the curve, clung there an instant, and was catapulted out into
+space. Logs weighing twenty tons were flung about like kindling; one
+instant, Bryce could see them in the air; the next they had disappeared
+down the hillside. A deafening crash, a splash, a cloud of dust--
+
+With a protesting squeal, the caboose came to the point where the
+logging-train had left the right of way, carrying rails and ties with
+it. The wheels on the side nearest the bank slid into the dirt first and
+plowed deep into the soil; the caboose came to an abrupt stop, trembled
+and rattled, overtopped its centre of gravity, and fell over against the
+cut-bank, wearily, like a drunken hag.
+
+Bryce, still clinging to the brake, was fully braced for the shock and
+was not flung off. Calmly he descended the ladder, recovered the axe
+from the bumper, climbed back to the roof, tiptoed off the roof to the
+top of the bank and sat calmly down under a manzanita bush to await
+results, for he was quite confident that none of the occupants of the
+confounded caboose had been treated to anything worse than a wild ride
+and a rare fright, and he was curious to see how Shirley Sumner would
+behave in an emergency.
+
+Colonel Pennington was first to emerge at the rear of the caboose. He
+leaped lightly down the steps, ran to the front of the car, looked down
+the track, and swore feelingly. Then he darted back to the rear of the
+caboose.
+
+"All clear and snug as a bug under a chip, my dear," he called to
+Shirley. "Thank God, the caboose became uncoupled--guess that fool
+brakeman forgot to drop the pin; it was the last car, and when it jumped
+the track and plowed into the dirt, it just naturally quit and toppled
+over against the bank. Come out, my dear."
+
+Shirley came out, dry-eyed, but white and trembling. The Colonel placed
+his arm around her, and she hid her face on his shoulder and shuddered.
+"There, there!" he soothed her affectionately. "It's all over, my dear.
+All's well that ends well."
+
+"The train," she cried in a choking voice. "Where is it?"
+
+"In little pieces--down in Mad River." He laughed happily. "And the logs
+weren't even mine! As for the trucks, they were a lot of ratty antiques
+and only fit to haul Cardigan's logs. About a hundred yards of roadbed
+ruined--that's the extent of my loss, for I'd charged off the trucks to
+profit and loss two years ago."
+
+"Bryce Cardigan," she sobbed. "I saw him--he was riding a top log on the
+train. He--ah, God help him!"
+
+The Colonel shook her with sudden ferocity. "Young Cardigan," he cried
+sharply. "Riding the logs? Are you certain?"
+
+She nodded, and her shoulders shook piteously.
+
+"Then Bryce Cardigan is gone!" Pennington's pronouncement was solemn,
+deadly with its flat finality. "No man could have rolled down into
+Mad River with a trainload of logs and survived. The devil himself
+couldn't." He heaved a great sigh, and added: "Well, that clears the
+atmosphere considerably, although for all his faults, I regret, for his
+father's sake, that this dreadful affair has happened. Well, it can't be
+helped, Shirley. Don't cry, my dear. I know it's terrible, but--there,
+there my love. Do brace up. Poor devil! For all his damnable treatment
+of me, I wouldn't have had this happen for a million dollars."
+
+Shirley burst into wild weeping. Bryce's heart leaped, for he understood
+the reason for her grief. She had sent him away in anger, and he had
+gone to his death; ergo it would be long before Shirley would forgive
+herself. Bryce had not intended presenting himself before her in his
+battered and bloody condition, but the sight of her distress now was
+more than he could bear. He coughed slightly, and the alert Colonel
+glanced up at him instantly.
+
+"Well, I'll be hanged!" The words fell from Pennington's lips with a
+heartiness that was almost touching. "I thought you'd gone with the
+train."
+
+"Sorry to have disappointed you, old top," Bryce replied blithely, "but
+I'm just naturally stubborn. Too bad about the atmosphere you thought
+cleared a moment ago! It's clogged worse than ever now."
+
+At the sound of Bryce's voice, Shirley raised her head, whirled and
+looked up at him. He held his handkerchief over his gory face that the
+sight might not distress her; he could have whooped with delight at the
+joy that flashed through her wet lids.
+
+"Bryce Cardigan," she commanded sternly, "come down here this instant."
+
+"I'm not a pretty sight, Shirley. Better let me go about my business."
+
+She stamped her foot. "Come here!"
+
+"Well, since you insist," he replied, and he slid down the bank.
+
+"How did you get up there--and what do you mean by hiding there spying
+on me, you--you--oh, YOU!"
+
+"Cuss a little, if it will help any," he suggested. "I had to get out of
+your way--out of your sight--and up there was the best place. I was on
+the roof of the caboose when it toppled over, so all I had to do was
+step ashore and sit down."
+
+"Then why didn't you stay there?" she demanded furiously.
+
+"You wouldn't let me," he answered demurely. "And when I saw you weeping
+because I was supposed to be with the angels, I couldn't help coughing
+to let you know I was still hanging around, ornery as a book-agent."
+
+"How did you ruin your face, Mr. Cardigan?"
+
+"Tried to take a cast of the front end of the caboose in my classic
+countenance--that's all."
+
+"But you were riding the top log on the last truck--"
+
+"Certainly, but I wasn't hayseed enough to stay there until we struck
+this curve. I knew exactly what was going to happen, so I climbed down
+to the bumper of the caboose, uncoupled it from the truck, climbed up
+on the roof, and managed to get the old thing under control with the
+hand-brake; then I skedaddled up into the brush because I knew you were
+inside, and---By the way, Colonel Pennington, here is your axe, which I
+borrowed this afternoon. Much obliged for its use. The last up-train is
+probably waiting on the siding at Freshwater to pass the late
+lamented; consequently a walk of about a mile will bring you a means of
+transportation back to Sequoia. Walk leisurely--you have lots of time.
+As for myself, I'm in a hurry, and my room is more greatly to be desired
+than my company, so I'll start now."
+
+He lifted his hat, turned, and walked briskly down the ruined track.
+
+Shirley made a little gesture of dissent, half opened her lips to call
+him back, thought better of it, and let him go. When he was out of
+sight, it dawned on her that he had risked his life to save hers.
+
+"Uncle Seth," she said soberly, "what would have happened to us if Bryce
+Cardigan had not come up here to-day to thrash your woods-boss?"
+
+"We'd both be in Kingdom Come now," he answered truthfully.
+
+"Under the circumstances, then," Shirley continued, "suppose we all
+agree to forget that anything unusual happened to-day--"
+
+"I bear the young man no ill will, Shirley, but before you permit
+yourself to be carried away by the splendour of his action in cutting
+out the caboose and getting it under control, it might be well to
+remember that his own precious hide was at stake also. He would have cut
+the caboose out even if you and I had not been in it."
+
+"No, he would not," she insisted, for the thought that he had done it
+for her sake was very sweet to her and would persist. "Cooped up in the
+caboose, we did not know the train was running away until it was too
+late for us to jump, while Bryce Cardigan, riding out on the logs, must
+have known it almost immediately. He would have had time to jump before
+the runaway gathered too much headway--and he would have jumped, Uncle
+Seth, for his father's sake."
+
+"Well, he certainly didn't stay for mine, Shirley."
+
+She dried her moist eyes and blushed furiously. "Uncle Seth," she
+pleaded, taking him lovingly by the arm, "let's be friends with Bryce
+Cardigan; let's get together and agree on an equitable contract for
+freighting his logs over our road."
+
+"You are now," he replied severely, "mixing sentiment and business; if
+you persist, the result will be chaos. Cardigan has in a large measure
+squared himself for his ruffianly conduct earlier in the day, and I'll
+forgive him and treat him with courtesy hereafter; but I want you to
+understand, Shirley, that such treatment by me does not constitute
+a license for that fellow to crawl up in my lap and be petted. He is
+practically a pauper now, which makes him a poor business risk, and
+you'll please me greatly by leaving him severely alone--by making him
+keep his distance."
+
+"I'll not do that," she answered with a quiet finality that caused her
+uncle to favour her with a quick, searching glance.
+
+He need not have worried, however, for Bryce Cardigan was too well aware
+of his own financial condition to risk the humiliation of asking Shirley
+Sumner to share it with him. Moreover, he had embarked upon a war--a war
+which he meant to fight to a finish.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+George Sea Otter, summoned by telephone, came out to Freshwater, the
+station nearest the wreck, and transported his battered young master
+back to Sequoia. Here Bryce sought the doctor in the Cardigan Redwood
+Lumber Company's little hospital and had his wrecked nose reorganized
+and his cuts bandaged. It was characteristic of his father's son that
+when this detail had been attended to, he should go to the office and
+work until the six o'clock whistle blew.
+
+Old Cardigan was waiting for him at the gate when he reached home.
+George Sea Otter had already given the old man a more or less garbled
+account of the runaway log-train, and Cardigan eagerly awaited his son's
+arrival in order to ascertain the details of this new disaster which had
+come upon them. For disaster it was, in truth. The loss of the logs was
+trifling--perhaps three or four thousand dollars; the destruction of
+the rolling-stock was the crowning misfortune. Both Cardigans knew that
+Pennington would eagerly seize upon this point to stint his
+competitor still further on logging-equipment, that there would
+be delays--purposeful but apparently unavoidable--before this lost
+rolling-stock would be replaced. And in the interim the Cardigan mill,
+unable to get a sufficient supply of logs to fill orders in hand, would
+be forced to close down. Full well Pennington knew that anything which,
+tends to bring about a shortage of raw material for any manufacturing
+plant will result inevitably in the loss of customers.
+
+"Well, son," said John Cardigan mildly as Bryce unlatched the gate,
+"another bump, eh?"
+
+"Yes, sir--right on the nose."
+
+"I meant another bump to your heritage, my son."
+
+"I'm worrying more about my nose, partner. In fact, I'm not worrying
+about my heritage at all. I've come to a decision on that point: We're
+going to fight and fight to the last; we're going down fighting. And by
+the way, I started the fight this afternoon. I whaled the wadding out
+of that bucko woods-boss of Pennington's, and as a special compliment to
+you, John Cardigan, I did an almighty fine job of cleaning. Even went so
+far as to muss the Colonel up a little."
+
+"Wow, wow, Bryce! Bully for you! I wanted that man Rondeau taken apart.
+He has terrorized our woods-men for a long time. He's king of the
+mad-train, you know."
+
+Bryce was relieved. His father did not know, then, of the act of
+vandalism in the Valley of the Giants. This fact strengthened Bryce's
+resolve not to tell him--also to get the fallen monarch sawed up and the
+stump blasted out before an operation should restore his father's sight
+and reveal to him the crowning cruelty of his enemy.
+
+Arm in arm they walked up the garden path together.
+
+Just as they entered the house, the telephone in the hall tinkled, and
+Bryce answered.
+
+"Mr. Cardigan," came Shirley Sumner's voice over the wire.
+
+"Bryce," he corrected her.
+
+She ignored the correction,
+
+"I--I don't know what to say to you," she faltered.
+
+"There is no necessity for saying anything, Shirley."
+
+"But you saved our lives, and at least have a right to expect due and
+grateful acknowledgment of our debt. I rang up to tell you how splendid
+and heroic your action was--"
+
+"I had my own life to save, Shirley."
+
+"You did not think of that at the time."
+
+"Well--I didn't think of your uncle's, either," he replied without
+enthusiasm.
+
+"I'm sure we never can hope to catch even with you, Mr. Cardigan."
+
+"Don't try. Your revered relative will not; so why should you?"
+
+"You are making it somewhat hard for me to--to--rehabilitate
+our friendship, Mr. Cardigan. We have just passed through a most
+extraordinary day, and if at evening I can feel as I do now, I think you
+ought to do your share--and help."
+
+"Bless your heart," he murmured. "The very fact that you bothered to
+ring me up at all makes me your debtor. Shirley, can you stand some
+plain speaking--between friends, I mean?"
+
+"I think so, Mr. Cardigan."
+
+"Well, then," said Bryce, "listen to this: I am your uncle's enemy until
+death do us part. Neither he nor I expect to ask or to give quarter, and
+I'm going to smash him if I can."
+
+"If you do, you smash me," she warned him.
+
+"Likewise our friendship. I'm sorry, but it's got to be done if I can do
+it. Shall--shall we say good-bye, Shirley?"
+
+"Yes-s-s!" There was a break in her voice. "Good-bye, Mr Cardigan. I
+wanted you to know."
+
+"Good-bye! Well, that's cutting the mustard," he murmured sotto voce,
+"and there goes another bright day-dream." Unknown to himself, he spoke
+directly into the transmitter, and Shirley, clinging half hopefully
+to the receiver at the other end of the wire, heard him--caught every
+inflection of the words, commonplace enough, but freighted with the
+pathos of Bryce's first real tragedy.
+
+"Oh, Bryce!" she cried sharply. But he did not hear her; he had hung up
+his receiver now.
+
+The week that ensued was remarkable for the amount of work Bryce
+accomplished in the investigation of his father's affairs--also for a
+visit from Donald McTavish, the woods-boss. Bryce found him sitting in
+the private office one morning at seven o'clock.
+
+"Hello, McTavish," he saluted the woods-boss cheerfully and extended
+his hand for a cordial greeting. His wayward employee stood up, took the
+proffered hand in both of his huge and callous ones, and held it rather
+childishly.
+
+"Weel! 'Tis the wee laddie hissel," he boomed. "I'm glad to see ye,
+boy."
+
+"You'd have seen me the day before yesterday--if you had been seeable,"
+Bryce reminded him with a bright smile. "Mac, old man, they tell me
+you've gotten to be a regular go-to-hell."
+
+"I'll nae deny I take a wee drappie now an' then," the woods-boss
+admitted frankly, albeit there was a harried, hangdog look in his eyes.
+
+Bryce sat down at his desk, lighted his pipe, and looked McTavish over
+soberly. The woods-boss was a big, raw-boned Scotsman, with a plentiful
+sprinkling of silver in his thick mane of red hair, which fell far down
+on his shoulders. A tremendous nose rose majestically out of a face so
+strong and rugged one searched in vain for aught of manly beauty in
+it; his long arms hung gorilla-like, almost to his knees, and he was
+slightly stooped, as if from bearing heavy burdens. Though in the late
+fifties, his years had touched him lightly; but John Barleycorn had not
+been so considerate. Bryce noted that McTavish was carrying some thirty
+pounds of whiskey fat and that the pupils of his fierce blue eyes were
+permanently distended, showing that alcohol had begun to affect his
+brain. His hands trembled as he stood before Bryce, smiling fatuously
+and plucking at the cuffs of his mackinaw. The latter realized that
+McTavish was waiting for him to broach the object of the visit; so with
+an effort he decided to begin the disagreeable task.
+
+"Mac, did Moira give you my message?"
+
+"Aye."
+
+"Well, I guess we understand each other, Mac. Was there something else
+you wanted to see me about?"
+
+McTavish sidled up to the desk. "Ye'll no be firin' auld Mac oot o'
+hand?" he pleaded hopefully. "Mon, ha ye the heart to do it--after a'
+these years?"
+
+Bryce nodded. "If you have the heart--after all these years--to draw
+pay you do not earn, then I have the heart to put a better man in your
+place."
+
+"Ye was ever a laddie to hae your bit joke."
+
+"It's no good arguing, Mac. You're off the pay-roll onto the
+pension-roll--your shanty in the woods, your meals at the camp kitchen,
+your clothing and tobacco that I send out to you. Neither more nor
+less!" He reached into his desk and drew forth a check. "Here's your
+wages to the fifteenth. It's the last Cardigan check you'll ever finger.
+I'm terribly sorry, but I'm terribly in earnest."
+
+"Who will ye pit in ma place?"
+
+"I don't know. However, it won't be a difficult task to find a better
+man than you."
+
+"I'll nae let him work." McTavish's voice deepened to a growl. "You
+worked that racket on my father. Try it on me, and you'll answer to
+me--personally. Lay the weight of your finger on your successor, Mac,
+and you'll die in the county poor-farm. No threats, old man! You know
+the Cardigans; they never bluff."
+
+McTavish's glance met the youthful master's for several seconds; then
+the woods-boss trembled, and his gaze sought the office floor. Bryce
+knew he had his man whipped at last, and McTavish realized it, too, for
+quite suddenly he burst into tears.
+
+"Dinna fire me, lad," he pleaded. "I'll gae back on the job an' leave
+whusky alone."
+
+"Nothing doing, Mac. Leave whiskey alone for a year and I'll discharge
+your successor to give you back your job. For the present however, my
+verdict stands. You're discharged."
+
+"Who kens the Cardigan woods as I ken them?" McTavish blubbered. "Who'll
+swamp a road into timber sixty per cent. clear when the mill's runnin'
+on foreign orders an' the owd man's calling for clear logs? Who'll fell
+trees wi' the least amount o' breakage? Who'll get the work out o' the
+men? Who'll--"
+
+"Don't plead, Mac," Bryce interrupted gently. "You're quite through, and
+I can't waste any more time on you."
+
+"Ye dinna mean it, lad. Ye canna mean it."
+
+"On your way, Mac. I loathe arguments. And don't forget your check."
+
+"I maun see yer faither aboot this. He'll nae stand for sic treatment o'
+an auld employee."
+
+Bryce's temper flared up. "You keep away from my father. You've worried
+him enough in the past, you drunkard. If you go up to the house to annoy
+my father with your pleadings, McTavish, I'll manhandle you." He glanced
+at his watch. "The next train leaves for the woods in twenty minutes. If
+you do not go back on it and behave yourself, you can never go back to
+Cardigan woods."
+
+"I will nae take charity from any man," McTavish thundered. "I'll nae
+bother the owd man, an' I'll nae go back to yon woods to live on yer
+bounty."
+
+"Well, go somewhere, Mac, and be quick about it. Only--when you've
+reformed, please come back. You'll be mighty welcome. Until then,
+however, you're as popular with me--that is, in a business way--as a wet
+dog."
+
+"Ye're nae the man yer faither was," the woods-boss half sobbed. "Ye hae
+a heart o' stone."
+
+"You've been drunk for fifteen days--and I'm paying you for it, Mac,"
+Bryce reminded him gently. "Don't leave your check behind. You'll need
+it."
+
+With a fine show of contempt and rage, McTavish tore the check into
+strips and threw them at Bryce. "I was never a mon to take charity," he
+roared furiously, and left the office. Bryce called after him a cheerful
+good-bye, but he did not answer. And he did not remain in town; neither
+did he return to his shanty in the woods. For a month his whereabouts
+remained a mystery; then one day Moira received a letter from him
+informing her that he had a job knee-bolting in a shingle mill in
+Mendocino County.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+In the interim Bryce had not been idle. From his woods-crew he picked
+an old, experienced hand--one Jabez Curtis--to take the place of the
+vanished McTavish. Colonel Pennington, having repaired in three days
+the gap in his railroad, wrote a letter to the Cardigan Redwood Lumber
+Company, informing Bryce that until more equipment could be purchased
+and delivered to take the place of the rolling-stock destroyed in
+the wreck, the latter would have to be content with half-deliveries;
+whereupon Bryce irritated the Colonel profoundly by purchasing a lot of
+second-hand trucks from a bankrupt sugar-pine mill in Lassen County and
+delivering them to the Colonel's road via the deck of a steam schooner.
+
+"That will insure delivery of sufficient logs to get out our orders on
+file," Bryce informed his father. "While we are morally certain our mill
+will run but one year longer, I intend that it shall run full capacity
+for that year. In fact, I'm going to saw in that one year remaining to
+us as much lumber as we would ordinarily saw in two years. To be exact,
+I'm going to run a night-shift."
+
+The sightless old man raised both hands in deprecation. "The market
+won't absorb it," he protested.
+
+"Then we'll stack it in piles to air-dry and wait until the market is
+brisk enough to absorb it," Bryce replied.
+
+"Our finances won't stand the overhead of that night-shift, I tell you,"
+his father warned.
+
+"I know we haven't sufficient cash on hand to attempt it, Dad, but--I'm
+going to borrow some."
+
+"From whom? No bank in Sequoia will lend us a penny, and long before you
+came home I had sounded every possible source of a private loan."
+
+"Did you sound the Sequoia Bank of Commerce?"
+
+"Certainly not. Pennington owns the controlling interest in that bank,
+and I was never a man to waste my time."
+
+Bryce chuckled. "I don't care where the money comes from so long as I
+get it, partner. Pennington's money may be tainted; in fact, I'd risk a
+bet that it is; but our employees will accept it for wages nevertheless.
+Desperate circumstances require desperate measures you know, and the
+day before yesterday, when I was quite ignorant of the fact that Colonel
+Pennington controls the Sequoia Bank of Commerce, I drifted in on the
+president and casually struck him for a loan of one hundred thousand
+dollars."
+
+"Well, I'll be shot, Bryce! What did he say?"
+
+"Said he'd take the matter under consideration and give me an answer
+this morning. He asked me, of course, what I wanted that much money for,
+and I told him I was going to run a night-shift, double my force of men
+in the woods, and buy some more logging-trucks, which I can get rather
+cheap. Well, this morning I called for my answer--and got it. The
+Sequoia Bank of Commerce will loan me up to a hundred thousand, but
+it won't give me the cash in a lump sum. I can have enough to buy the
+logging-trucks now, and on the first of each month, when I present my
+pay-roll, the bank will advance me the money to meet it."
+
+"Bryce, I am amazed."
+
+"I am not--since you tell me Colonel Pennington controls that bank. That
+the bank should accommodate us is the most natural procedure imaginable.
+Pennington is only playing safe--which is why the bank declined to give
+me the money in a lump sum. If we run a night-shift, Pennington
+knows that we can't dispose of our excess output under present market
+conditions. The redwood trade is in the doldrums and will remain in them
+to a greater or less degree until the principal redwood centres secure a
+rail outlet to the markets of the country. It's a safe bet our lumber is
+going to pile up on the mill dock; hence, when the smash comes and the
+Sequoia Bank of Commerce calls our loan and we cannot possibly meet it,
+the lumber on hand will prove security for the loan, will it not? In
+fact, it will be worth two or three dollars per thousand more then than
+it is now, because it will be air-dried. And inasmuch as all the signs
+point to Pennington's gobbling us anyhow, it strikes me as a rather good
+business on his part to give us sufficient rope to insure a thorough job
+of hanging."
+
+"But what idea have you got back of such a procedure, Bryce?"
+
+"Merely a forlorn hope, Dad. Something might turn up. The market may
+take a sudden spurt and go up three or four dollars."
+
+"Yes--and it may take a sudden spurt and drop three or four dollars,"
+his father reminded him.
+
+Bryce laughed. "That would be Pennington's funeral, Dad. And whether
+the market goes up or comes down, it costs us nothing to make the
+experiment."
+
+"Quite true." his father agreed.
+
+"Then, if you'll come down to the office to-morrow morning, Dad, we'll
+hold a meeting of our board of directors and authorize me, as president
+of the company, to sign the note to the bank. We're borrowing this
+without collateral, you know."
+
+John Cardigan sighed. Such daring financial acrobatics were not usual
+with him, but as Bryce had remarked there was no reason why, in their
+present predicament, they should not gamble. Hence he entered no further
+objection, and the following day the agreement was entered into with
+the bank. Bryce closed by wire for the extra logging-equipment and
+immediately set about rounding up a crew for the woods and for the
+night-shift in the mill.
+
+For a month Bryce was as busy as the proverbial one-armed paper-hanger
+with the itch, and during all that time he did not see Shirley Sumner or
+hear of her, directly or indirectly. Only at infrequent intervals did he
+permit himself to think of her, for he was striving to forget, and the
+memory of his brief glimpse of paradise was always provocative of pain.
+
+Moira McTavish, in the meantime, had come down from the woods and
+entered upon her duties in the mill office. The change from her dull,
+drab life, giving her, as it did, an opportunity for companionship with
+people of greater mentality and refinement than she had been used to,
+quickly brought about a swift transition in the girl's nature. With the
+passing of the coarse shoes and calico dresses and the substitution of
+the kind of clothing all women of Moira's instinctive refinement and
+natural beauty long for, the girl became cheerful, animated, and imbued
+with the optimism of her years. At first old Sinclair resented the
+advent of a woman in the office; then he discovered that Moira's efforts
+lightened his own labours in exact proportion to the knowledge of the
+business which she assimilated from day to day.
+
+Moira worked in the general office, and except upon occasions when Bryce
+desired to look at the books or Moira brought some document into
+the private office for his perusal, there were days during which
+his pleasant "Good morning, Moira," constituted the extent of their
+conversation. To John Cardigan, however, Moira was a ministering angel.
+Gradually she relieved Bryce of the care of the old man. She made a
+cushion for his easy-chair in the office; she read the papers to him,
+and the correspondence, and discussed with him the receipt and delivery
+of orders, the movements of the lumber-fleet, the comedies and tragedies
+of his people, which had become to him matters of the utmost importance.
+She brushed his hair, dusted his hat, and crowned him with it when he
+left the office at nightfall, and whenever Bryce was absent in the woods
+or in San Francisco, it fell to her lot to lead the old man to and from
+the house on the hill. To his starved heart her sweet womanly attentions
+were tremendously welcome, and gradually he formed the habit of speaking
+of her, half tenderly, half jokingly, as "my girl."
+
+Bryce had been absent in San Francisco for ten days. He had planned to
+stay three weeks, but finding his business consummated in less time,
+he returned to Sequoia unexpectedly. Moira was standing at the tall
+bookkeeping desk, her beautiful dark head bent over the ledger, when he
+entered the office and set his suitcase in the corner.
+
+"Is that you, Mr. Bryce?" she queried.
+
+"The identical individual, Moira. How did you guess it was I?"
+
+She looked up at him then, and her wonderful dark eyes lighted with a
+flame Bryce had not seen in them heretofore. "I knew you were coming,"
+she replied simply.
+
+"But how could you know? I didn't telegraph because I wanted to surprise
+my father, and the instant the boat touched the dock, I went overside
+and came directly here. I didn't even wait for the crew to run out the
+gangplank--so I know nobody could have told you I was due."
+
+"That is quite right, Mr. Bryce. Nobody told me you were coming, but I
+just knew, when I heard the Noyo whistling as she made the dock, that
+you were aboard, and I didn't look up when you entered the office
+because I wanted to verify my--my suspicion."
+
+"You had a hunch, Moira. Do you get those telepathic messages very
+often?" He was crossing the office to shake her hand.
+
+"I've never noticed particularly--that is, until I came to work here.
+But I always know when you are returning after a considerable absence."
+She gave him her hand. "I'm so glad you're back."
+
+"Why?" he demanded bluntly.
+
+She flushed. "I--I really don't know, Mr. Bryce."
+
+"Well, then," he persisted, "what do you think makes you glad?"
+
+"I had been thinking how nice it would be to have you back, Mr. Bryce.
+When you enter the office, it's like a breeze rustling the tops of the
+Redwoods. And your father misses you so; he talks to me a great deal
+about you. Why, of course we miss you; anybody would."
+
+As he held her hand, he glanced down at it and noted how greatly it had
+changed during the past few months. The skin was no longer rough and
+brown, and the fingers, formerly stiff and swollen from hard work, were
+growing more shapely. From her hand his glance roved over the girl,
+noting the improvements in her dress, and the way the thick, wavy black
+hair was piled on top of her shapely head.
+
+"It hadn't occurred to me before, Moira," he said with a bright
+impersonal smile that robbed his remark of all suggestion of masculine
+flattery, "but it seems to me I'm unusually glad to see you, also.
+You've been fixing your hair different."
+
+The soft lambent glow leaped again into Moira's eyes. He had noticed
+her--particularly. "Do you like my hair done that way?" she inquired
+eagerly.
+
+"I don't know whether I do or not. It's unusual--for you. You look
+mighty sweetly old-fashioned with it coiled in back--somewhat like an
+old-fashioned daguerreotype of my mother. Is this new style the latest
+in hairdressing in Sequoia?"
+
+"I think so, Mr. Bryce. I copied it from Colonel Pennington's niece,
+Miss Sumner."
+
+"Oh," he replied briefly. "You've met her, have you? I didn't know she
+was in Sequoia still."
+
+"She's been away, but she came back last week. I went to the Valley of
+the Giants last Saturday afternoon--"
+
+Bryce interrupted. "You didn't tell my father about the tree that was
+cut, did you?" he demanded sharply.
+
+"No."
+
+"Good girl! He mustn't know. Go on, Moira. I interrupted you."
+
+"I met Miss Sumner up there. She was lost; she'd followed the old trail
+into the timber, and when the trees shut out the sun, she lost all sense
+of direction. She was terribly frightened and crying when I found her
+and brought her home."
+
+"Well, I swan, Moira! What was she doing in our timber?"
+
+"She told me that once, when she was a little girl, you had taken her
+for a ride on your pony up to your mother's grave. And it seems she had
+a great curiosity to see that spot again and started out without saying
+a word to any one. Poor dear! She was in a sad state when I found her."
+
+"How fortunate you found her! I've met Miss Sumner three or four times.
+That was when she first came to Sequoia. She's a stunning girl, isn't
+she?"
+
+"Perfectly, Mr. Bryce. She's the first lady I've ever met. She's
+different."
+
+"No doubt! Her kind are not a product of homely little communities like
+Sequoia. And for that matter, neither is her wolf of an uncle. What did
+Miss Sumner have to say to you, Moira?"
+
+"She told me all about herself--and she said a lot of nice things about
+you, Mr. Bryce, after I told her I worked for you. And when I showed
+her the way home, she insisted that I should walk home with her. So I
+did--and the butler served us with tea and toast and marmalade. Then she
+showed me all her wonderful things--and gave me some of them. Oh, Mr.
+Bryce, she's so sweet. She had her maid dress my hair in half a dozen
+different styles until they could decide on the right style, and--"
+
+"And that's it--eh, Moira?"
+
+She nodded brightly.
+
+"I can see that you and Miss Sumner evidently hit it off just right with
+each other. Are you going to call on her again?"
+
+"Oh, yes! She begged me to. She says she's lonesome."
+
+"I dare say she is, Moira. Well, her choice of a pal is a tribute to the
+brains I suspected her of possessing, and I'm glad you've gotten to know
+each other. I've no doubt you find life a little lonely sometimes."
+
+"Sometimes, Mr. Bryce."
+
+"How's my father?"
+
+"Splendid. I've taken good care of him for you."
+
+"Moira, you're a sweetheart of a girl. I don't know how we ever managed
+to wiggle along without you." Fraternally--almost paternally--he gave
+her radiant cheek three light little pats as he strode past her to the
+private office. He was in a hurry to get to his desk, upon which he
+could see through the open door a pile of letters and orders, and a
+moment later he was deep in a perusal of them, oblivious to the fact
+that ever and anon the girl turned upon him her brooding, Madonna-like
+glance.
+
+That night Bryce and his father, as was their custom after dinner,
+repaired to the library, where the bustling and motherly Mrs. Tully
+served their coffee. This good soul, after the democratic fashion in
+vogue in many Western communities, had never been regarded as a servant;
+neither did she so regard herself. She was John Cardigan's housekeeper,
+and as such she had for a quarter of a century served father and
+son their meals and then seated herself at the table with them. This
+arrangement had but one drawback, although this did not present
+itself until after Bryce's return to Sequoia and his assumption of the
+direction of the Cardigan destinies. For Mrs. Tully had a failing
+common to many of her sex: she possessed for other people's business an
+interest absolutely incapable of satisfaction--and she was, in addition,
+garrulous beyond belief. The library was the one spot in the house which
+at the beginning of her employment John Cardigan had indicated to Mrs.
+Tully as sanctuary for him and his; hence, having served the coffee this
+evening, the amiable creature withdrew, although not without a pang as
+she reflected upon the probable nature of their conversation and the
+void which must inevitably result by reason of the absence of her advice
+and friendly cooperation and sympathy.
+
+No sooner had Mrs. Tully departed than Bryce rose and closed the door
+behind her. John Cardigan opened the conversation with a contented
+grunt:
+
+"Plug the keyhole, son," he continued. "I believe you have something on
+your mind--and you know how Mrs. Tully resents the closing of that door.
+Estimable soul that she is, I have known her to eavesdrop. She can't
+help it, poor thing! She was born that way."
+
+Bryce clipped a cigar and held a lighted match while his father "smoked
+up." Then he slipped into the easy-chair beside the old man.
+
+"Well, John Cardigan," he began eagerly, "fate ripped a big hole in our
+dark cloud the other day and showed me some of the silver lining. I've
+been making bad medicine for Colonel Pennington. Partner, the pill I'm
+rolling for that scheming scoundrel will surely nauseate him when he
+swallows it."
+
+"What's in the wind, boy?"
+
+"We're going to parallel Pennington's logging-road."
+
+"Inasmuch as that will cost close to three quarters of a million
+dollars, I'm of the opinion that we're not going to do anything of the
+sort."
+
+"Perhaps. Nevertheless, if I can demonstrate to a certain party that it
+will not cost more than three quarters of a million, he'll loan me the
+money."
+
+The old man shook his head. "I don't believe it, Bryce. Who's the crazy
+man?"
+
+"His name is Gregory. He's Scotch."
+
+"Now I know he's crazy. When he hands you the money, you'll find he's
+talking real money but thinking of Confederate greenbacks. For a sane
+Scotchman to loan that much money without collateral security would be
+equivalent to exposing his spinal cord and tickling it with a rat-tail
+file."
+
+Bryce laughed. "Pal," he declared, "if you and I have any brains, they
+must roll around in our skulls like buckshot in a tin pan. Here we've
+been sitting for three months, and twiddling our thumbs, or lying awake
+nights trying to scheme a way out of our difficulties, when if we'd had
+the sense that God gives geese we would have solved the problem long
+ago and ceased worrying. Listen, now, with all your ears. When Bill
+Henderson wanted to build the logging railroad which he afterward sold
+to Pennington, and which Pennington is now using as a club to beat our
+brains out, did he have the money to build it?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Where did he get it?"
+
+"I loaned it to him. He only had about eight miles of road to build
+then, so I could afford to accommodate him."
+
+"How did he pay you back?"
+
+"Why, he gave me a ten-year contract for hauling our logs at a dollar
+and a half a thousand feet, and I merely credited his account with the
+amount of the freight-bills he sent me until he'd squared up the loan,
+principal and interest."
+
+"Well, if Bill Henderson financed himself on that plan, why didn't
+we think of using the same time-honoured plan for financing a road to
+parallel Pennington's?"
+
+John Cardigan sat up with a jerk. "By thunder!" he murmured. That was as
+close as he ever came to uttering an oath. "By thunder!" he repeated. "I
+never thought of that! But then," he added, "I'm not so young as I used
+to be, and there are any number of ideas which would have occurred to me
+twenty years ago but do not occur to me now."
+
+"All right, John Cardigan. I forgive you. Now, then, continue to listen:
+to the north of that great block of timber held by you and Pennington
+lie the redwood holdings of the Trinidad Redwood Timber Company."
+
+"Never heard of them before."
+
+"Well, timber away in there in back of beyond has never been well
+advertised, because it is regarded as practically inaccessible. By
+extending his logging-road and adding to his rolling-stock, Pennington
+could make it accessible, but he will not. He figures on buying all that
+back timber rather cheap when he gets around to it, for the reason that
+the Trinidad Redwood Timber Company cannot possibly mill its timber
+until a railroad connects its holdings with the outside world. They
+can hold it until their corporation franchise expires, and it will not
+increase sufficiently in value to pay taxes."
+
+"I wonder why the blamed fools ever bought in there, Bryce."
+
+"When they bought, it looked like a good buy. You will remember that
+some ten years ago a company was incorporated with the idea of building
+a railroad from Grant's Pass, Oregon, on the line of the Southern
+Pacific, down the Oregon and California coast to tap the redwood belt."
+
+"I remember. There was a big whoop and hurrah and then the proposition
+died abornin'. The engineers found that the cost of construction through
+that mountainous country was prohibitive."
+
+"Well, before the project died, Gregory and his associates believed
+that it was going to survive. They decided to climb in on the ground
+floor--had some advance, inside information that the road was to be
+built; go they quietly gathered together thirty thousand acres of good
+stuff and then sat down to wait for the railroad, And they are still
+waiting. Gregory, by the way, is the president of the Trinidad Redwood
+Timber Company. He's an Edinburgh man, and the fly American promoters
+got him to put up the price of the timber and then mortgaged their
+interests to him as security for the advance. He foreclosed on their
+notes five years ago."
+
+"And there he is with his useless timber!" John Cardigan murmured
+thoughtfully. "The poor Scotch sucker!"
+
+"He isn't poor. The purchase of that timber didn't even dent
+his bank-roll. He's what they call in England a tinned-goods
+manufacturer--purveyor to His Majesty the King, and all that. But he
+would like to sell his timber, and being Scotch, naturally he desires to
+sell it at a profit. In order to create a market for it, however, he has
+to have an outlet to that market. We supply the outlet--with his help;
+and what happens? Why, timber that cost him fifty and seventy-five
+cents per thousand feet stumpage--and the actual timber will overrun
+the cruiser's estimate every time--will be worth two dollars and fifty
+cents--perhaps more."
+
+The elder Cardigan turned slowly in his chair and bent his sightless
+gaze upon his son. "Well, well," he cried impatiently.
+
+"He loans us the money to build our road. We build it--on through our
+timber and into his. The collateral security which we put up will be
+a twenty-five-years contract to haul his logs to tidewater on Humboldt
+Bay, at a base freight-rate of one dollar and fifty cents, with an
+increase of twenty-five cents per thousand every five years thereafter,
+and an option for a renewal of the contract upon expiration, at the rate
+of freight last paid. We also grant him perpetual booming-space for his
+logs in the slough which we own and where we now store our logs until
+needed at the mill. In addition we sell him, at a reasonable figure,
+sufficient land fronting on tidewater to enable him to erect a sawmill,
+lay out his yards, and build a dock out into the deep water.
+
+"Thus Gregory will have that which he hasn't got now--an outlet to his
+market by water; and when the railroad to Sequoia builds in from the
+south, it will connect with the road which we have built from Sequoia up
+into Township Nine to the north; hence Gregory will also have an outlet
+to his market by rail. He can easily get a good manager to run his
+lumber business until he finds a customer for it, and in the meantime
+we will be charging his account with our freight-bills against him and
+gradually pay off the loan without pinching ourselves."
+
+"Have you talked with Gregory?"
+
+"Yes. I met him while I was in San Francisco. Somebody brought him up
+to a meeting of the Redwood Lumber Manufacturers' Association, and I
+pounced on him like an owl on a mouse."
+
+John Cardigan's old hand came gropingly forth and rested affectionately
+upon his boy's. "What a wonderful scheme it would have been a year ago,"
+he murmured sadly. "You forget, my son, that we cannot last in business
+long enough to get that road built though Gregory should agree to
+finance the building of it. The interest on our bonded indebtedness is
+payable on the first--"
+
+"We can meet it, sir."
+
+"Aye, but we can't meet the fifty thousand dollars which, under the
+terms of our deed of trust, we are required to pay in on July first
+of each year as a sinking fund toward the retirement of our bonds. By
+super-human efforts--by sacrificing a dozen cargoes, raising hob with
+the market, and getting ourselves disliked by our neighbours--we managed
+to meet half of it this year and procure an extension of six months on
+the balance due.
+
+"That is Pennington's way. He plays with us as a cat does with a mouse,
+knowing, like the cat, that when he is weary of playing, he will devour
+us. And now, when we are deeper in debt than ever, when the market is
+lower and more sluggish than it has been in fifteen years, to hope to
+meet the interest and the next payment to the sinking fund taxes my
+optimism. Bryce, it just can't be done. We'd have our road about half
+completed when we'd bust up in business; indeed, the minute Pennington
+suspected we were paralleling his line, he'd choke off our wind. I tell
+you it can't be done."
+
+But Bryce contradicted him earnestly. "It can be done," he said.
+"Gregory knows nothing of our financial condition. Our rating in the
+reports of the commercial agencies is as good as it ever was, and a
+man's never broke till somebody finds it out."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I mean that if we can start building our road and have it half
+completed before Pennington jumps on us, GREGORY WILL SIMPLY HAVE TO
+COME TO OUR AID IN SELF-DEFENSE. Once he ties up with us, he's committed
+to the task of seeing us through. If we fall, he must pick us up and
+carry us, whether he wants to or not; and I will so arrange the deal
+that he will have to. I can do it, I tell you."
+
+John Cardigan raised his hand. "No," he said firmly, "I will not allow
+you to do this. That way--that is the Pennington method. If we fall,
+my son, we pass out like gentlemen, not blackguards. We will not take
+advantage of this man Gregory's faith. If he joins forces with us, we
+lay our hand on the table and let him look."
+
+"Then he'll never join hands with us, partner. We're done."
+
+"We're not done, my son. We have one alternative, and I'm going to take
+it. I've got to--for your sake. Moreover, your mother would have wished
+it so."
+
+"You don't mean--"
+
+"Yes, I do. I'm going to sell Pennington my Valley of the Giants. Thank
+God, that quarter-section does not belong to the Cardigan Redwood Lumber
+Company. It is my personal property, and it is not mortgaged. Pennington
+can never foreclose on it--and until he gets it, twenty-five hundred
+acres of virgin timber on Squaw Creek are valueless--nay, a source of
+expense to him. Bryce, he has to have it; and he'll pay the price, when
+he knows I mean business."
+
+With a sweeping gesture he waved aside the arguments that rose to
+his son's lips. "Lead me to the telephone," he commanded; and Bryce,
+recognizing his sire's unalterable determination, obeyed.
+
+"Find Pennington's number in the telephone-book," John Cardigan
+commanded next.
+
+Bryce found it, and his father proceeded to get the Colonel on the wire.
+"Pennington," he said hoarsely, "this is John Cardigan speaking. I've
+decided to sell you that quarter-section that blocks your timber on
+Squaw Creek."
+
+"Indeed," the Colonel purred. "I had an idea you were going to present
+it to the city for a natural park."
+
+"I've changed my mind. I've decided to sell at your last offer."
+
+"I've changed my mind, too. I've decided not to buy--at my last offer.
+Good-night."
+
+Slowly John Cardigan hung the receiver on the hook, turned and groped
+for his son. When he found him, the old man held him for a moment in his
+arms. "Lead me upstairs, son," he murmured presently. "I'm tired. I'm
+going to bed."
+
+When Colonel Seth Pennington turned from the telephone and faced
+his niece, Shirley read his triumph in his face. "Old Cardigan has
+capitulated at last," he cried exultingly. "We've played a waiting game
+and I've won; he just telephoned to say he'd accept my last offer
+for his Valley of the Giants, as the sentimental old fool calls that
+quarter-section of huge redwoods that blocks the outlet to our Squaw
+Creek timber."
+
+"But you're not going to buy it. You told him so, Uncle Seth."
+
+"Of course I'm not going to buy it--at my last offer. It's worth five
+thousand dollars in the open market, and once I offered him fifty
+thousand for it. Now I'll give him five."
+
+"I wonder why he wants to sell," Shirley mused. "From what Bryce
+Cardigan told me once, his father attaches a sentimental value to that
+strip of woods; his wife is buried there; it's--or rather, it used to
+be--a sort of shrine to the old gentleman."
+
+"He's selling it because he's desperate. If he wasn't teetering on the
+verge of bankruptcy, he'd never let me outgame him," Pennington replied
+gayly. "I'll say this for the old fellow: he's no bluffer. However,
+since I know his financial condition almost to a dollar, I do not think
+it would be good business to buy his Valley of the Giants now. I'll
+wait until he has gone bust--and save twenty-five or thirty thousand
+dollars."
+
+"I think you're biting off your nose to spite your face, Uncle Seth. The
+Laguna Grande Lumber Company needs that outlet. In dollars and cents,
+what is it worth to the Company?"
+
+"If I thought I couldn't get it from Cardigan a few months from now, I'd
+go as high as a hundred thousand for it to-night," he answered coolly.
+
+"In that event, I advise you to take it for fifty thousand. It's
+terribly hard on old Mr. Cardigan to have to sell it, even at that
+price."
+
+"You do not understand these matters, Shirley. Don't try. And don't
+waste your sympathy on that old humbug. He has to dig up fifty thousand
+dollars to pay on his bonded indebtedness, and he's finding it a
+difficult job. He's just sparring for time, but he'll lose out."
+
+As if to indicate that he considered the matter closed, the Colonel drew
+his chair toward the fire, picked up a magazine, and commenced idly to
+slit the pages. Shirley studied the back of his head for some time,
+then got out some fancy work and commenced plying her needle. And as she
+plied it, a thought, nebulous at first, gradually took form in her head
+until eventually she murmured loud enough for the Colonel to hear:
+
+"I'll do it."
+
+"Do what?" Pennington queried.
+
+"Something nice for somebody who did something nice for me," she
+answered.
+
+"That McTavish girl?" he suggested.
+
+"Poor Moira! Isn't she sweet, Uncle Seth? I'm going to give her that
+black suit of mine. I've scarcely worn it--"
+
+"I thought so," he interrupted with an indulgent yawn. "Well, do
+whatever makes for your happiness, my dear. That's all money is for."
+
+About two o'clock the following afternoon old Judge Moore, of the
+Superior Court of Humboldt County, drifted into Bryce Cardigan's office,
+sat down uninvited, and lifted his long legs to the top of an adjacent
+chair.
+
+"Well, Bryce, my boy," he began, "a little bird tells me your daddy
+is considering the sale of Cardigan's Redwoods, or the Valley of the
+Giants, as your paternal ancestor prefers to refer to that little old
+quarter-section out yonder on the edge of town. How about it?"
+
+Bryce stared at him a moment questioningly. "Yes, Judge," he replied,
+"we'll sell, if we get our price."
+
+"Well," his visitor drawled, "I have a client who might be persuaded.
+I'm here to talk turkey. What's your price?"
+
+"Before we talk price," Bryce parried, "I want you to answer a
+question."
+
+"Let her fly," said Judge Moore.
+
+"Are you, directly or indirectly, acting for Colonel Pennington?"
+
+"That's none of your business, young man--at least, it would be none
+of your business if I were, directly or indirectly, acting for that
+unconvicted thief. To the best of my information and belief, Colonel
+Pennington doesn't figure in this deal in any way, shape, or manner; and
+as you know, I've been your daddy's friend for thirty years."
+
+Still Bryce was not convinced, notwithstanding the fact that he would
+have staked his honour on the Judge's veracity. Nobody knew better than
+he in what devious ways the Colonel worked, his wonders to perform.
+
+"Well," he said, "your query is rather sudden, Judge, but still I can
+name you a price. I will state frankly, however, that I believe it to
+be over your head. We have several times refused to sell to Colonel
+Pennington for a hundred thousand dollars."
+
+"Naturally that little dab of timber is worth more to Pennington than to
+anybody else. However, my client has given me instructions to go as high
+as a hundred thousand if necessary to get the property."
+
+"What!"
+
+"I said it. One hundred thousand dollars of the present standard weight
+and fineness."
+
+Judge Moore's last statement swept away Bryce's suspicions. He required
+now no further evidence that, regardless of the identity of the Judge's
+client, that client could not possibly be Colonel Seth Pennington or any
+one acting for him, since only the night before Pennington had curtly
+refused to buy the property for fifty thousand dollars. For a moment
+Bryce stared stupidly at his visitor. Then he recovered his wits.
+
+"Sold!" he almost shouted, and after the fashion of the West extended
+his hand to clinch the bargain. The Judge shook it solemnly. "The Lord
+loveth a quick trader," he declared, and reached into the capacious
+breast pocket of his Prince Albert coat. "Here's the deed already made
+out in favour of myself, as trustee." He winked knowingly.
+
+"Client's a bit modest, I take it," Bryce suggested.
+
+"Oh, very. Of course I'm only hazarding a guess, but that guess is that
+my client can afford the gamble and is figuring on giving Pennington
+a pain where he never knew it to ache him before. In plain English, I
+believe the Colonel is in for a razooing at the hands of somebody with a
+small grouch against him."
+
+"May the Lord strengthen that somebody's arm," Bryce breathed fervently.
+"If your client can afford to hold out long enough, he'll be able to buy
+Pennington's Squaw Creek timber at a bargain."
+
+"My understanding is that such is the programme."
+
+Bryce reached for the deed, then reached for his hat. "If you'll be good
+enough to wait here, Judge Moore, I'll run up to the house and get
+my father to sign this deed. The Valley of the Giants is his
+personal property, you know. He didn't include it in his assets when
+incorporating the Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company."
+
+A quarter of an hour later he returned with the deed duly signed by John
+Cardigan and witnessed by Bryce; whereupon the Judge carelessly tossed
+his certified check for a hundred thousand dollars on Bryce's desk
+and departed whistling "Turkey in the Straw." Bryce reached for the
+telephone and called up Colonel Pennington.
+
+"Bryce Cardigan speaking," he began, but the Colonel cut him short.
+
+"My dear, impulsive young friend," he interrupted in oleaginous tones,
+"how often do you have to be told that I am not quite ready to buy that
+quarter-section?"
+
+"Oh," Bryce retorted, "I merely called up to tell you that every dollar
+and every asset you have in the world, including your heart's blood,
+isn't sufficient to buy the Valley of the Giants from us now."
+
+"Eh? What's that? Why?"
+
+"Because, my dear, overcautious, and thoroughly unprincipled enemy,
+it was sold five minutes ago for the tidy sum of one hundred thousand
+dollars, and if you don't believe me, come over to my office and I'll
+let you feast your eyes on the certified check."
+
+He could hear a distinct gasp. After an interval of five seconds,
+however, the Colonel recovered his poise. "I congratulate you," he
+purred. "I suppose I'll have to wait a little longer now, won't I?
+Well--patience is my middle name. Au revoir."
+
+The Colonel hung up. His hard face was ashen with rage, and he stared at
+a calendar on the wall with his cold, phidian stare. However, he was not
+without a generous stock of optimism. "Somebody has learned of the low
+state of the Cardigan fortune," he mused, "and taken advantage of it to
+induce the old man to sell at last. They're figuring on selling to me at
+a neat profit. And I certainly did overplay my hand last night. However,
+there's nothing to do now except sit tight and wait for the new owner's
+next move."
+
+Meanwhile, in the general office of the Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company,
+joy was rampant. Bryce Cardigan was doing a buck and wing dance around
+the room, while Moira McTavish, with her back to her tall desk,
+watched him, in her eyes a tremendous joy and a sweet, yearning glow of
+adoration that Bryce was too happy and excited to notice.
+
+Suddenly he paused before her. "Moira, you're a lucky girl," he
+declared. "I thought this morning you were going back to a kitchen in a
+logging-camp. It almost broke my heart to think of fate's swindling
+you like that." He put his arm around her and gave her a brotherly hug.
+"It's autumn in the woods, Moira, and all the underbrush is golden."
+
+She smiled, though it was winter in her heart.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+Not the least of the traits which formed Shirley Sumner's character
+was pride. Proud people quite usually are fiercely independent and
+meticulously honest--and Shirley's pride was monumental. Hers was the
+pride of lineage, of womanhood, of an assured station in life, combined
+with that other pride which is rather difficult of definition without
+verbosity and is perhaps better expressed in the terse and illuminating
+phrase "a dead-game sport." Unlike her precious relative, unlike the
+majority of her sex, Shirley had a wonderfully balanced sense of the
+eternal fitness of things; her code of honour resembled that of a very
+gallant gentleman. She could love well and hate well.
+
+A careful analysis of Shirley's feelings toward Bryce Cardigan
+immediately following the incident in Pennington's woods, had showed her
+that under more propitious circumstances she might have fallen in love
+with that tempestuous young man in sheer recognition of the many lovable
+and manly qualities she had discerned in him. As an offset to the credit
+side of Bryce's account with her, however, there appeared certain debits
+in the consideration of which Shirley always lost her temper and was
+immediately quite certain she loathed the unfortunate man.
+
+He had been an honoured and (for aught Shirley knew to the contrary)
+welcome guest in the Penninton home one night, and the following day had
+assaulted his host, committed great bodily injuries upon the latter's
+employees for little or no reason save the satisfaction of an abominable
+temper, made threats of further violence, declared his unfaltering
+enmity to her nearest and best-loved relative, and in the next breath
+had had the insolence to prate of his respect and admiration for her.
+Indeed, in cogitating on this latter incongruity, Shirley recalled
+that the extraordinary fellow had been forced rather abruptly to check
+himself in order to avoid a fervid declaration of love! And all of this
+under the protection of a double-bitted axe, one eye on her and the
+other on his enemies.
+
+However, all of these grave crimes and misdemeanors were really
+insignificant compared with his crowning offense. What had infuriated
+Shirley was the fact that she had been at some pains to inform Bryce
+Cardigan that she loathed him--whereat he had looked her over coolly,
+grinned a little, and declined to believe her! Then, seemingly as if
+fate had decreed that her futility should be impressed upon her still
+further, Bryce Cardigan had been granted an opportunity to save, in
+a strikingly calm, heroic, and painful manner, her and her uncle from
+certain and horrible death, thus placing upon Shirley an obligation
+that was as irritating to acknowledge as it was futile to attempt to
+reciprocate.
+
+That was where the shoe pinched. Before that day was over she had been
+forced to do one of two things--acknowledge in no uncertain terms her
+indebtedness to him, or remain silent and be convicted of having been,
+in plain language, a rotter. So she had telephoned him and purposely
+left ajar the door to their former friendly relations.
+
+Monstrous! He had seen the open door and deliberately slammed it in her
+face. Luckily for them both she had heard, all unsuspected by him as he
+slowly hung the receiver on the hook, the soliloquy wherein he gave her
+a pointed hint of the distress with which he abdicated--which knowledge
+was all that deterred her from despising him with the fervour of a woman
+scorned.
+
+Resolutely Shirley set herself to the task of forgetting Bryce when,
+after the passage of a few weeks, she realized that he was quite sincere
+in his determination to forget her. Frequent glimpses of him on the
+streets of Sequoia, the occasional mention of his name in the Sequoia
+Sentinel, the very whistle of Cardigan's mill, made her task a difficult
+one; and presently in desperation she packed up and departed for an
+indefinite stay in the southern part of the State. At the end of six
+weeks, however, she discovered that absence had had the traditional
+effect upon her heart and found herself possessed of a great curiosity
+to study the villain at short range and discover, if possible, what new
+rascality he might be meditating. About this time, a providential attack
+of that aristocratic ailment, gout, having laid Colonel Pennington low,
+she told herself her duty lay in Sequoia, that she had Shirley Sumner in
+hand at last and that the danger was over. In consequence, she returned
+to Sequoia.
+
+The fascination which a lighted candle holds for a moth is too well
+known to require further elucidation here. In yielding one day to a
+desire to visit the Valley of the Giants, Shirley told herself that she
+was going there to gather wild blackberries. She had been thinking of
+a certain blackberry pie, which thought naturally induced reflection
+on Bryce Cardigan and reminded Shirley of her first visit to the Giants
+under the escort of a boy in knickerbockers. She had a very vivid
+remembrance of that little amphitheatre with the sunbeams falling like
+a halo on the plain tombstone; she wondered if the years had changed it
+all and decided that there could not possibly be any harm in indulging a
+very natural curiosity to visit and investigate.
+
+Her meeting with Moira McTavish that day, and the subsequent
+friendship formed with the woods-boss's daughter, renewed all her old
+apprehensions. On the assumption that Shirley and Bryce were practically
+strangers to each other (an assumption which Shirley, for obvious
+reasons, did not attempt to dissipate), Moira did not hesitate to
+mention Bryce very frequently. To her he was the one human being in
+the world utterly worth while, and it is natural for women to discuss,
+frequently and at great length, the subject nearest their hearts. In the
+three stock subjects of the admirable sex--man, dress, and the ills
+that flesh is heir to--man readily holds the ascendancy; and by degrees
+Moira--discovering that Shirley, having all the dresses she required
+(several dozen more, in fact) and being neither subnormal mentally nor
+fragile physically, gave the last two topics scant attention--formed
+the habit of expatiating at great length on the latter. Moira described
+Bryce in minute detail and related to her eager auditor little
+unconscious daily acts of kindness, thoughtfulness, or humour performed
+by Bryce--his devotion to his father, his idealistic attitude toward
+the Cardigan employees, his ability, his industry, the wonderful care
+he bestowed upon his fingernails, his marvellous taste in neckwear, the
+boyishness of his lighter and the mannishness of his serious moments.
+And presently, little by little, Shirley's resentment against him faded,
+and in her heart was born a great wistfulness bred of the hope that some
+day she would meet Bryce Cardigan on the street and that he would pause,
+lift his hat, smile at her his compelling smile and, forthwith proceed
+to bully her into being friendly and forgiving--browbeat her into
+admitting her change of heart and glorying in it.
+
+To this remarkable state of mind had Shirley Sumner attained at the time
+old John Cardigan, leading his last little trump in a vain hope that it
+would enable him to take the odd trick in the huge game he had played
+for fifty years, decided to sell his Valley of the Giants.
+
+Shortly after joining her uncle in Sequoia, Shirley had learned from the
+Colonel the history of old man Cardigan and his Valley of the Giants,
+or as the townspeople called it, Cardigan's Redwoods. Therefore she was
+familiar with its importance to the assets of the Laguna Grande Lumber
+Company, since, while that quarter-section remained the property of John
+Cardigan, two thousand five hundred acres of splendid timber owned by
+the former were rendered inaccessible. Her uncle had explained to
+her that ultimately this would mean the tying up of some two million
+dollars, and inasmuch as the Colonel never figured less than five per
+cent. return on anything, he was in this instance facing a net loss
+of one hundred thousand dollars for each year obstinate John Cardigan
+persisted in retaining that quarter-section.
+
+"I'd gladly give him a hundred thousand for that miserable little dab of
+timber and let him keep a couple of acres surrounding his wife's grave,
+if the old fool would only listen to reason," the Colonel had complained
+bitterly to her. "I've offered him that price a score of times, and he
+tells me blandly the property isn't for sale. Well, he who laughs last
+laughs best, and if I can't get that quarter-section by paying more than
+ten times what it's worth in the open market, I'll get it some other
+way, if it costs me a million."
+
+"How?" Shirley had queried at the time.
+
+"Never mind, my dear," he had answered darkly. "You wouldn't understand
+the procedure if I told you. I'll have to run all around Robin Hood's
+barn and put up a deal of money, one way or another, but in the end
+I'll get it all back with interest--and Cardigan's Redwoods! The old man
+can't last forever, and what with his fool methods of doing business,
+he's about broke, anyhow. I expect to do business with his executor or
+his receiver within a year."
+
+Shirley, as explained in a preceding chapter, had been present the night
+John Cardigan, desperate and brought to bay at last, had telephoned
+Pennington at the latter's home, accepting Pennington's last offer for
+the Valley of the Giants. The cruel triumph in the Colonel's handsome
+face as he curtly rebuffed old Cardigan had been too apparent for the
+girl to mistake; recalling her conversation with him anent the impending
+possibility of his doing business with John Cardigan's receiver or
+executor, she realized now that a crisis had come in the affairs of the
+Cardigans, and across her vision there flashed again the vision of Bryce
+Cardigan's homecoming--of a tall old man with his trembling arms clasped
+around his boy, with grizzled cheek laid against his son's, as one who,
+seeking comfort through bitter years, at length had found it.
+
+Presently another thought came to Shirley. She knew Bryce Cardigan was
+far from being indifferent to her; she had given him his opportunity
+to be friendly with her again, and he had chosen to ignore her though
+sorely against his will. For weeks Shirley had pondered this mysterious
+action, and now she thought she caught a glimpse of the reason
+underlying it all. In Sequoia, Bryce Cardigan was regarded as the heir
+to the throne of Humboldt's first timber-king, but Shirley knew now that
+as a timber-king, Bryce Cardigan bade fair to wear a tinsel crown. Was
+it this knowledge that had led him to avoid her?
+
+"I wonder," she mused. "He's proud. Perhaps the realization that he will
+soon be penniless and shorn of his high estate has made him chary of
+acquiring new friends in his old circle. Perhaps if he were secure in
+his business affairs--Ah, yes! Poor boy! He was desperate for fifty
+thousand dollars!" Her heart swelled. "Oh, Bryce, Bryce," she murmured,
+"I think I'm beginning to understand some of your fury that day in the
+woods. It's all a great mystery, but I'm sure you didn't intend to be
+so--so terrible. Oh, my dear, if we had only continued to be the good
+friends we started out to be, perhaps you'd let me help you now. For
+what good is money if one cannot help one's dear friends in distress.
+Still, I know you wouldn't let me help you, for men of your stamp cannot
+borrow from a woman, no matter how desperate their need. And yet--you
+only need a paltry fifty thousand dollars!"
+
+Shirley carried to bed with her that night the woes of the Cardigans,
+and in the morning she telephoned Moira McTavish and invited the latter
+to lunch with her at home that noon. It was in her mind to question
+Moira with a view to acquiring additional information. When Moira came,
+Shirley saw that she had been weeping.
+
+"My poor Moira!" she said, putting her arms around her visitor. "What
+has happened to distress you? Has your father come back to Sequoia?
+Forgive me for asking. You never mentioned him, but I have heard--There,
+there, dear! Tell me all about it."
+
+Moira laid her head on Shirley's shoulder and sobbed for several
+minutes. Then, "It's Mr. Bryce," she wailed. "He's so unhappy.
+Something's happened; they're going to sell Cardigan's Redwoods; and
+they--don't want to. Old Mr. Cardigan is home--ill; and just before
+I left the office, Mr. Bryce came in--and stood a moment looking--at
+me--so tragically I--I asked him what had happened. Then he patted my
+cheek--oh, I know I'm just one of his responsibilities--and said 'Poor
+Moira! Never any luck!' and went into his--private office. I waited a
+little, and then I went in too; and--oh, Miss Sumner, he had his head
+down on his desk, and when I touched his head, he reached up and took my
+hand and held it--and laid his cheek against it a little while--and
+oh, his cheek was wet. It's cruel of God--to make him--unhappy, He's
+good--too good. And--oh, I love him so, Miss Shirley, I love him so--and
+he'll never, never know. I'm just one of his--responsibilities, you
+know; and I shouldn't presume. But nobody--has ever been kind to me but
+Mr. Bryce--and you. And I can't help loving people who are kind--and
+gentle to nobodies."
+
+The hysterical outburst over, Shirley led the girl to her cozy
+sitting-room upstairs and prevailed upon the girl to put on one of
+her own beautiful negligees. Moira's story--her confession of love,
+so tragic because so hopeless--had stirred Shirley deeply. She seated
+herself in front of Moira and cupped her chin in her palm.
+
+"Of course, dear," she said, "you couldn't possibly see anybody you
+loved suffer so and not feel dreadfully about it. And when a man like
+Bryce Cardigan is struck down, he's apt to present rather a tragic and
+helpless figure. He wanted sympathy, Moira--woman's sympathy, and it was
+dear of you to give it to him."
+
+"I'd gladly die for him," Moira answered simply. "Oh, Miss Shirley, you
+don't know him the way we who work for him do. If you did, you'd love
+him, too. You couldn't help it, Miss Shirley."
+
+"Perhaps he loves you, too, Moira." The words came with difficulty.
+
+Moira shook her head hopelessly. "No, Miss Shirley. I'm only one of his
+many human problems, and he just won't go back on me, for old sake's
+sake. We played together ten years ago, when he used to spend his
+vacations at our house in Cardigan's woods, when my father was
+woods-boss. He's Bryce Cardigan--and I--I used to work in the kitchen of
+his logging-camp."
+
+"Never mind, Moira. He may love you, even though you do not suspect it.
+You mustn't be so despairing. Providence has a way of working out these
+things. Tell me about his trouble, Moira."
+
+"I think it's money. He's been terribly worried for a long time, and I'm
+afraid things aren't going right with the business. I've felt ever
+since I've been there that there's something that puts a cloud over Mr.
+Bryce's smile. It hurts them terribly to have to sell the Valley of the
+Giants, but they have to; Colonel Pennington is the only one who would
+consider buying it; they don't want him to have it--and still they have
+to sell to him."
+
+"I happen to know, Moira, that he isn't going to buy it."
+
+"Yes, he is--but not at a price that will do them any good. They have
+always thought he would be eager to buy whenever they decided to sell,
+and now he says he doesn't want it, and old Mr. Cardigan is ill over
+it all. Mr. Bryce says his father has lost his courage at last; and oh,
+dear, things are in such a mess. Mr. Bryce started to tell me all about
+it--and then he stopped suddenly and wouldn't say another word."
+
+Shirley smiled. She thought she understood the reason for that. However,
+she did not pause to speculate on it, since the crying need of the
+present was the distribution of a ray of sunshine to broken-hearted
+Moira.
+
+"Silly," she chided, "how needlessly you are grieving! You say my uncle
+has declined to buy the Valley of the Giants?"
+
+Moira nodded.
+
+"My uncle doesn't know what he's talking about, Moira. I'll see that he
+does buy it. What price are the Cardigans asking for it now?"
+
+"Well, Colonel Pennington has offered them a hundred thousand dollars
+for it time and again, but last night he withdrew that offer. Then they
+named a price of fifty thousand, and he said he didn't want it at all."
+
+"He needs it, and it's worth every cent of a hundred thousand to him,
+Moira. Don't worry, dear. He'll buy it, because I'll make him, and he'll
+buy it immediately; only you must promise me not to mention a single
+word of what I'm telling you to Bryce Cardigan, or in fact, to anybody.
+Do you promise?"
+
+Moira seized Shirley's hand and kissed it impulsively. "Very well,
+then," Shirley continued. "That matter is adjusted, and now we'll all
+be happy. Here comes Thelma with luncheon. Cheer up, dear, and remember
+that sometime this afternoon you're going to see Mr. Bryce smile again,
+and perhaps there won't be so much of a cloud over his smile this time."
+
+When Moira returned to the office of the Cardigan Redwood Lumber
+Company, Shirley rang for her maid. "Bring me my motor-coat and hat,
+Thelma," she ordered, "and telephone for the limousine." She seated
+herself before the mirror at her dressing-table and dusted her adorable
+nose with a powder-puff. "Mr. Smarty Cardigan," she murmured happily,
+"you walked rough-shod over my pride, didn't you! Placed me under an
+obligation I could never hope to meet--and then ignored me--didn't you?
+Very well, old boy. We all have our innings sooner or later, you know,
+and I'm going to make a substantial payment on that huge obligation
+as sure as my name is Shirley Sumner. Then, some day when the sun is
+shining for you again, you'll come to me and be very, very humble.
+You're entirely too independent, Mr. Cardigan, but, oh, my dear, I do
+hope you will not need so much money. I'll be put to my wit's end to get
+it to you without letting you know, because if your affairs go to smash,
+you'll be perfectly intolerable. And yet you deserve it. You're such an
+idiot for not loving Moira. She's an angel, and I gravely fear I'm just
+an interfering, mischievous, resentful little devil seeking vengeance
+on--"
+
+She paused suddenly. "No, I'll not do that, either," she soliloquized.
+"I'll keep it myself--for an investment. I'll show Uncle Seth I'm a
+business woman, after all. He has had his fair chance at the Valley
+of the Giants, after waiting years for it, and now he has deliberately
+sacrificed that chance to be mean and vindictive. I'm afraid Uncle Seth
+isn't very sporty--after what Bryce Cardigan did for us that day the
+log-train ran away. I'll have to teach him not to hit an old man when
+he's down and begging for mercy. _I_'LL buy the Valley but keep my
+identity secret from everybody; then, when Uncle Seth finds a stranger
+in possession, he'll have a fit, and perhaps, before he recovers, he'll
+sell me all his Squaw Creek timber--only he'll never know I'm the buyer.
+And when I control the outlet--well, I think that Squaw Creek timber
+will make an excellent investment if it's held for a few years. Shirley,
+my dear, I'm pleased with you. Really, I never knew until now why men
+could be so devoted to business. Won't it be jolly to step in between
+Uncle Seth and Bryce Cardigan, hold up my hand like a policeman, and
+say: 'Stop it, boys. No fighting, IF you please. And if anybody wants to
+know who's boss around here, start something.'"
+
+And Shirley laid her head upon the dressing-table and laughed heartily.
+She had suddenly bethought herself of Aesop's fable of the lion and the
+mouse!
+
+When her uncle came home that night, Shirley observed that he was
+preoccupied and disinclined to conversation.
+
+"I noticed in this evening's paper," she remarked presently, "that Mr.
+Cardigan has sold his Valley of the Giants. So you bought it, after
+all?"
+
+"No such luck!" he almost barked. "I'm an idiot. I should be placed in
+charge of a keeper. Now, for heaven's sake, Shirley, don't discuss that
+timber with me, for if you do, I'll go plain, lunatic crazy. I've had a
+very trying day."
+
+"Poor Uncle Seth!" she purred sweetly. Her apparent sympathy soothed his
+rasped soul. He continued:
+
+"Oh, I'll get the infernal property, and it will be worth what I have to
+pay for it, only it certainly does gravel me to realize that I am about
+to be held up, with no help in sight. I'll see Judge Moore to-morrow and
+offer him a quick profit for his client. That's the game, you know."
+
+"I do hope the new owner exhibits some common sense, Uncle dear," she
+replied, and turned back to the piano. "But I greatly fear," she added
+to herself, "that the new owner is going to prove a most obstinate
+creature and frightfully hard to discover."
+
+True to his promise, the Colonel called on Judge Moore bright and early
+the following morning. "Act Three of that little business drama entitled
+'The Valley of the Giants,' my dear Judge," he announced pleasantly. "I
+play the lead in this act. You remember me, I hope. I played a bit in
+Act Two."
+
+"In so far as my information goes, sir, you've been cut out of the cast
+in Act Three. I don't seem to find any lines for you to speak."
+
+"One line, Judge, one little line. What profit does your client want on
+that quarter-section?"
+
+"That quarter-section is not in the market, Colonel. When it is, I'll
+send for you, since you're the only logical prospect should my client
+decide to sell. And remembering how you butted in on politics in this
+county last fall and provided a slush-fund to beat me and place a crook
+on the Superior Court bench, in order to give you an edge in the many
+suits you are always filing or having filed against you, I rise to
+remark that you have about ten split seconds in which to disappear from
+my office. If you linger longer, I'll start throwing paper-weights." And
+as if to emphasize his remark, the Judge's hand closed over one of the
+articles in question.
+
+The Colonel withdrew with what dignity he could muster.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+Upon his return from the office that night, Bryce Cardigan found his
+father had left his bed and was seated before the library fire.
+
+"Feeling a whole lot better to-day, eh, pal?" his son queried.
+
+John Cardigan smiled. "Yes, son," he replied plaintively. "I guess I'll
+manage to live till next spring."
+
+"Oh, I knew there was nothing wrong with you, John Cardigan, that a
+healthy check wouldn't cure. Pennington rather jolted you, though,
+didn't he?"
+
+"He did, Bryce. It was jolt enough to be forced to sell that quarter--I
+never expected we'd have to do it; but when I realize that it was a case
+of sacrificing you or my Giants, of course you won. And I didn't feel
+so badly about it as I used to think I would. I suppose that's because
+there is a certain morbid pleasure in a real sacrifice for those we
+love. And I never doubted but that Pennington would snap up the property
+the instant I offered to sell. Hence his refusal--in the face of our
+desperate need for money to carry on until conditions improve--almost
+floored your old man."
+
+"Well, we can afford to draw our breath now, and that gives us a
+fighting chance, partner. And right after dinner you and I will sit down
+and start brewing a pot of powerful bad medicine for the Colonel."
+
+"Son, I've been sitting here simmering all day." There was a note of
+the old dominant fighting John Cardigan in his voice now. "And it has
+occurred to me that even if I must sit on the bench and root, I've
+not reached the point where my years have begun to affect my thinking
+ability." He touched his leonine head. "I'm as right as a fox upstairs,
+Bryce."
+
+"Right-o, Johnny. We'll buck the line together. After dinner you trot
+out your plan of campaign and I'll trot out mine; then we'll tear them
+apart, select the best pieces of each and weld them into a perfect
+whole."
+
+Accordingly, dinner disposed of, father and son sat down together to
+prepare the plan of campaign. For the space of several minutes a silence
+settled between them, the while they puffed meditatively upon their
+cigars. Then the old man spoke.
+
+"We'll have to fight him in the dark."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because if Pennington knows, or even suspects the identity of the man
+who is going to parallel his logging railroad, he will throw all the
+weight of his truly capable mind, his wealth and his ruthlessness
+against you--and you will be smashed. To beat that man, you must do more
+than spend money. You will have to outthink him, outwork him, outgame
+him, and when eventually you have won, you'll know you've been in the
+fight of your career. You have one advantage starting out. The Colonel
+doesn't think you have the courage to parallel his road in the first
+place; in the second place, he knows you haven't the money; and in the
+third place he is morally certain you cannot borrow it, because you
+haven't any collateral to secure your note.
+
+"We are mortgaged now to the limit, and our floating indebtedness is
+very large; on the face of things and according to the Colonel's very
+correct inside information, we're helpless; and unless the lumber-market
+stiffens very materially this year, by the time our hauling-contract
+with Pennington's road expires, we'll be back where we were yesterday
+before we sold the Giants. Pennington regards that hundred thousand as
+get-away money for us. So, all things considered, the Colonel, will be
+slow to suspect us of having an ace in the hole; but by jinks we have
+it, and we're going to play it."
+
+"No," said Bryce, "we're going to let somebody else play it for us.
+The point you make--to wit, that we must remain absolutely in the
+background--is well taken."
+
+"Very well," agreed the old man. "Now let us proceed to the next point.
+You must engage some reliable engineer to look over the proposed route
+of the road and give us an estimate of the cost of construction."
+
+"For the sake of argument we will consider that done, and that the
+estimate comes within the scope of the sum Gregory is willing to advance
+us."
+
+"Your third step, then, will be to incorporate a railroad company under
+the laws of the State of California."
+
+"I think I'll favour the fair State of New Jersey with our trade," Bryce
+suggested dryly. "I notice that when Pennington bought out the Henderson
+interests and reorganized that property, he incorporated the Laguna
+Grande Lumber Company under the laws of the State of New Jersey, home of
+the trusts. There must be some advantage connected with such a course."
+
+"Have it your own way, boy. What's good enough for the Colonel is good
+enough for us. Now, then, you are going to incorporate a company to
+build a road twelve miles long--and a private road, at that. That would
+be a fatal step. Pennington would know somebody was going to build a
+logging-road, and regardless of who the builders were, he would have to
+fight them in self-protection. How are you going to cover your trail, my
+son?"
+
+Bryce pondered. "I will, to begin, have a dummy board of directors.
+Also, my road cannot be private; it must be a common carrier, and that's
+where the shoe pinches. Common carriers are subject to the rules and
+regulations of the Railroad Commission."
+
+"They are wise and just rules," commented the old man, "expensive to
+obey at times, but quite necessary. We can obey and still be happy.
+Objection overruled."
+
+"Well, then, since we must be a common carrier, we might as well carry
+our deception still further and incorporate for the purpose of building
+a road from Sequoia to Grant's Pass, Oregon, there to connect with the
+Southern Pacific."
+
+John Cardigan smiled. "The old dream revived, eh? Well, the old jokes
+always bring a hearty laugh. People will laugh at your company, because
+folks up this way realize that the construction cost of such a road
+is prohibitive, not to mention the cost of maintenance, which would be
+tremendous and out of all proportion to the freight area tapped."
+
+"Well, since we're not going to build more than twelve miles of our road
+during the next year, and probably not more than ten miles additional
+during the present century, we won't worry over it. It doesn't cost a
+cent more to procure a franchise to build a road from here to the
+moon. If we fail to build to Grant's Pass, our franchise to build the
+uncompleted portion of the road merely lapses and we hold only that
+portion which we have constructed. That's all we want to hold."
+
+"How about rights of way?"
+
+"They will cost us very little, if anything. Most or the landowners
+along the proposed route will give us rights of way free gratis and for
+nothing, just to encourage the lunatics. Without a railroad the land is
+valueless; and as a common carrier they know we can condemn rights of
+way capriciously withheld--something we cannot do as a private road.
+Moreover, deeds to rights of way can be drawn with a time-limit, after
+which they revert to the original owners."
+
+"Good strategy, my son! And certainly as a common carrier we will be
+welcomed by the farmers and cattlemen along our short line. We can
+handle their freight without much annoyance and perhaps at a slight
+profit."
+
+"Well, that about completes the rough outline of our plan. The next
+thing to do is to start and keep right on moving, for as old Omar
+has it, 'The bird of time hath but a little way to flutter,' and the
+birdshot is catching up with him. We have a year in which to build our
+road; if we do not hurry, the mill will have to shut down for lack of
+logs, when our contract with Pennington expires."
+
+"You forget the manager for our new corporation--the vice-president
+and general manager. The man we engage must be the fastest and most
+convincing talker in California; not only must he be able to tell a lie
+with a straight face, but he must be able to believe his own lies. And
+he must talk in millions, look millions, and act as if a million dollars
+were equivalent in value to a redwood stump. In addition, he must be a
+man of real ability and a person you can trust implicitly."
+
+"I have the very man you mention. His name is Buck Ogilvy and only this
+very day I received a letter from him begging me for a small loan. I
+have Buck on ice in a fifth-class San Francisco hotel."
+
+"Tell me about him, Bryce."
+
+"Don't have to. You've just told me about him, However, I'll read you
+his letter. I claim there is more character in a letter than in a face."
+
+Here Bryce read aloud:
+
+Golden Gate Hotel--Rooms fifty cents--and up. San Francisco, California,
+August fifteenth, 1916.
+
+MY DEAR CARDIGAN: Hark to the voice of one crying in the wilderness;
+then picture to yourself the unlovely spectacle of a strong man crying.
+
+Let us assume that you have duly considered. Now wind up your wrist and
+send me a rectangular piece of white, blue, green, or pink paper bearing
+in the lower right-hand corner, in your clear, bold chirography, the
+magic words "Bryce Cardigan"--with the little up-and-down hook and
+flourish which identifies your signature given in your serious moods
+and lends value to otherwise worthless paper. Five dollars would make
+me chirk up; ten would start a slight smile; twenty would put a beam in
+mine eye; fifty would cause me to utter shrill cries of unadulterated
+joys and a hundred would inspire me to actions like unto those of a
+whirling dervish.
+
+I am so flat busted my arches make hollow sounds as I tread the hard
+pavements of a great city, seeking a job. Pausing on the brink of
+despair, that destiny which shapes our ends inspired me to think of old
+times and happier days and particularly of that pink-and-white midget of
+a girl who tended the soda-fountain just back of the railroad station at
+Princeton. You stole that damsel from me, and I never thanked you. Then
+I remembered you were a timber-king with a kind heart and that you lived
+somewhere in California; so I looked in the telephone book and found
+the address of the San Francisco office of the Cardigan Redwood Lumber
+Company. You have a mean man in charge there. I called on him, told
+him I was an old college pal of yours, and tried to borrow a dollar. He
+spurned me with contumely--so much of it, in fact, that I imagine you
+have a number of such friends. While he was abusing me, I stole from his
+desk the stamped envelope which bears to you these tidings of great woe;
+and while awaiting your reply, be advised that I subsist on the bitter
+cud of reflection, fresh air, and water, all of which, thank God, cost
+nothing.
+
+My tale is soon told. When you knew me last, I was a prosperous young
+contractor. Alas! I put all my eggs in one basket and produced an
+omelet. Took a contract to build a railroad in Honduras. Honduras got
+to fighting with Nicaragua; the government I had done business with went
+out of business; and the Nicaraguan army recruited all my labourers and
+mounted them on my mules and horses, swiped all my grub, and told me to
+go home. I went. Why stay? Moreover, I had an incentive consisting of
+about an inch of bayonet--fortunately not applied in a vital spot--which
+accelerated rather than decreased my speed.
+
+Hurry, my dear Cardigan. Tempest fidgets; remember Moriarity--which, if
+you still remember your Latin, means: "Time flies. Remember to-morrow!"
+I finished eating my overcoat the day before yesterday.
+
+Make it a hundred, and God will bless you. When I get it, I'll come to
+Sequoia and kiss you. I'll pay you back sometime--of course.
+
+Wistfully thine--Buck Ogilvy
+
+P.S.--Delays are dangerous, and procrastination is the thief of
+time.--B.
+
+John Cardigan chuckled. "I'd take Buck Ogilvy, Bryce. He'll do. Is he
+honest?"
+
+"I don't know. He was, the last time I saw him."
+
+"Then wire him a hundred. Don't wait for the mail. The steamer that
+carries your letter might be wrecked and your friend Ogilvy forced to
+steal."
+
+"I have already wired him the hundred. In all probability he is now out
+whirling like a dervish."
+
+"Good boy! Well, I think we've planned sufficient for the present,
+Bryce. You'd better leave for San Francisco to-morrow and close your
+deal with Gregory. Arrange with him to leave his own representative with
+Ogilvy to keep tab on the job, check the bills, and pay them as they
+fall due; and above all things, insist that Gregory shall place the
+money in a San Francisco bank, subject to the joint check of his
+representative and ours. Hire a good lawyer to draw up the agreement
+between you; be sure you're right, and then go ahead--full speed. When
+you return to Sequoia, I'll have a few more points to give you. I'll
+mull them over in the meantime."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+When Bryce Cardigan walked down the gang-plank at the steamship-dock in
+San Francisco, the first face he saw among the waiting crowd was Buck
+Ogilvy's. Mr. Ogilvy wore his over-coat and a joyous smile, proving that
+in so far as he was concerned all was well with the world; he pressed
+forward and thrust forth a great speckled paw for Bryce to shake. Bryce
+ignored it.
+
+"Why, don't you remember me?" Ogilvy demanded. "I'm Buck Ogilvy."
+
+Bryce looked him fairly in the eye and favoured him with a lightning
+wink. "I have never heard of you, Mr. Ogilvy. You are mistaking me for
+someone else."
+
+"Sorry," Ogilvy murmured. "My mistake! Thought you were Bill Kerrick,
+who used to be a partner of mine. I'm expecting him on this boat, and
+he's the speaking image of you."
+
+Bryce nodded and passed on, hailed a taxicab, and was driven to the San
+Francisco office of his company. Five minutes later the door opened and
+Buck Ogilvy entered.
+
+"I was a bit puzzled at the dock, Bryce," he explained as they shook
+hands, "but decided to play safe and then follow you to your office.
+What's up? Have you killed somebody, and are the detectives on your
+trail? If so, 'fess up and I'll assume the responsibility for your
+crime, just to show you how grateful I am for that hundred."
+
+"No, I wasn't being shadowed, Buck, but my principal enemy was coming
+down the gangplank right behind me, and--"
+
+"So was my principal enemy," Ogilvy interrupted. "What does our enemy
+look like?"
+
+"Like ready money. And if he had seen me shaking hands with you, he'd
+have suspected a connection between us later on. Buck, you have a good
+job--about five hundred a month."
+
+"Thanks, old man. I'd work for you for nothing. What are we going to
+do?"
+
+"Build twelve miles of logging railroad and parallel the line of the old
+wolf I spoke of a moment ago."
+
+"Good news! We'll do it. How soon do you want it done?"
+
+"As soon as possible. You're the vice-president and general manager."
+
+"I accept the nomination. What do I do first?"
+
+"Listen carefully to my story, analyze my plan for possible weak spots,
+and then get busy, because after I have provided the funds and given the
+word 'Go!' the rest is up to you. I must not be known in the transaction
+at all, because that would be fatal. And I miss my guess if, once we
+start building or advertising the building of the road, you and I and
+everybody connected with the enterprise will not be shadowed day and
+night by an army of Pinkertons."
+
+"I listen," said Buck Ogilvy, and he inclined a large speckled ear in
+Bryce's direction, the while his large speckled hand drew a scratch-pad
+toward him.
+
+Three hours later Ogilvy was in possession of the most minute details of
+the situation in Sequoia, had tabulated, indexed, and cross-indexed
+them in his ingenious brain and was ready for business--and so announced
+himself. "And inasmuch as that hundred you sent me has been pretty well
+shattered," he concluded, "suppose you call in your cold-hearted manager
+who refused me alms on your credit, and give him orders to honour my
+sight-drafts. If I'm to light in Sequoia looking like ready money, I've
+got to have some high-class, tailor-made clothes, and a shine and a
+shave and a shampoo and a trunk and a private secretary. If there was a
+railroad running into Sequoia, I'd insist on a private car."
+
+This final detail having been attended to, Mr. Ogilvy promptly proceeded
+to forget business and launched forth into a recital of his manifold
+adventures since leaving Princeton; and when at length all of their
+classmates had been accounted for and listed as dead, married,
+prosperous, or pauperized, the amiable and highly entertaining Buck took
+his departure with the announcement that he would look around a little
+and try to buy some good second-hand grading equipment and a locomotive,
+in addition to casting an eye over the labour situation and sending a
+few wires East for the purpose of sounding the market on steel rails.
+Always an enthusiast in all things, in his mind's eye Mr. Ogilvy could
+already see a long trainload of logs coming down the Northern California
+& Oregon Railroad, as he and Bryce had decided to christen the venture.
+
+"N. C. & O.," Mr. Ogilvy murmured. "Sounds brisk and snappy. I like it.
+Hope that old hunks Pennington likes it, too. He'll probably feel that
+N. C. & O. stands for Northern California Outrage."
+
+When Bryce Cardigan returned to Sequoia, his labours, insofar as the
+building of the road were concerned, had been completed. His agreement
+with Gregory of the Trinidad Redwood Timber Company had been signed,
+sealed, and delivered; the money to build the road had been deposited
+in bank; and Buck Ogilvy was already spending it like a drunken sailor.
+From now on, Bryce could only watch, wait, and pray.
+
+On the next steamer a surveying party with complete camping-equipment
+arrived in Sequoia, purchased a wagon and two horses, piled their
+dunnage into the wagon, and disappeared up-country. Hard on their
+heels came Mr. Buck Ogilvy, and occupied the bridal suite in the Hotel
+Sequoia, arrangements for which had previously been made by wire. In
+the sitting room of the suite Mr. Ogilvy installed a new desk, a
+filing-cabinet, and a brisk young male secretary.
+
+He had been in town less than an hour when the editor of the Sequoia
+Sentinel sent up his card. The announcement of the incorporation of the
+Northern California Outrage (for so had Mr. Ogilvy, in huge enjoyment of
+the misery he was about to create, dubbed the road) had previously been
+flashed to the Sentinel by the United Press Association, as a local
+feature story, and already speculation was rife in Sequoia as to the
+identity of the harebrained individuals who dared to back an enterprise
+as nebulous as the millennium. Mr. Ogilvy was expecting the visit--in
+fact, impatiently awaiting it; and since the easiest thing he did was to
+speak for publication, naturally the editor of the Sentinel got a
+story which, to that individual's simple soul, seemed to warrant a
+seven-column head--which it received. Having boned up on the literature
+of the Redwood Manufacturers' Association, what Buck Ogilvy didn't know
+about redwood timber, redwood lumber, the remaining redwood acreage and
+market conditions, past and present, might have been secreted in the
+editorial eye without seriously hampering the editorial sight. He stated
+that the capital behind the project was foreign, that he believed in the
+success of the project and that his entire fortune was dependent upon
+the completion of it. In glowing terms he spoke of the billions of tons
+of timber-products to be hauled out of this wonderfully fertile and
+little-known country, and confidently predicted for the county a future
+commercial supremacy that would be simply staggering to contemplate.
+
+When Colonel Seth Pennington read this outburst he smiled. "That's a
+bright scheme on the part of that Trinidad Redwood Timber Company gang
+to start a railroad excitement and unload their white elephant," he
+declared. "A scheme like that stuck them with their timber, and I
+suppose they figure there's a sucker born every minute and that the
+same old gag might work again. Chances are they have a prospect in tow
+already."
+
+When Bryce Cardigan read it, he laughed. The interview was so like Buck
+Ogilvy! In the morning the latter's automobile was brought up from the
+steamship-dock, and accompanied by his secretary, Mr. Ogilvy disappeared
+into the north following the bright new stakes of his surveying-gang,
+and for three weeks was seen no more. As for Bryce Cardigan, that young
+man buckled down to business, and whenever questioned about the new
+railroad was careful to hoot at the idea.
+
+On a day when Bryce's mind happened to be occupied with thoughts of
+Shirley Sumner, he bumped into her on the main street of Sequoia, and to
+her great relief but profound surprise, he paused in his tracks, lifted
+his hat, smiled, and opened his mouth to say something--thought better
+of it, changed his mind, and continued on about his business. As Shirley
+passed him, she looked him squarely in the face, and in her glance there
+was neither coldness nor malice.
+
+Bryce felt himself afire from heels to hair one instant, and cold and
+clammy the next, for Shirley spoke to him.
+
+"Good morning, Mr. Cardigan."
+
+He paused, turned, and approached her. "Good morning, Shirley," he
+replied. "How have you been?"
+
+"I might have been dead, for all the interest you took in me," she
+replied sharply. "As matters stand, I'm exceedingly well--thank you. By
+the way, are you still belligerent?"
+
+He nodded. "I have to be."
+
+"Still peeved at my uncle?"
+
+Again he nodded.
+
+"I think you're a great big grouch, Bryce Cardigan," she flared at him
+suddenly. "You make me unutterably weary."
+
+"I'm sorry," he answered, "but just at present I am forced to subject
+you to the strain. Say a year from now, when things are different with
+me, I'll strive not to offend."
+
+"I'll not be here a year from now," she warned him. He bowed. "Then
+I'll go wherever you are--and bring you back." And with a mocking little
+grin, he lifted his hat and passed on.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+Though Buck Ogilvy was gone from Sequoia for a period of three weeks,
+he was by no means forgotten. His secretary proved to be an industrious
+press-agent who by mail, telegraph, and long-distance telephone managed
+daily to keep the editor of the Sequoia Sentinel fully apprised of all
+developments in the matter of the Northern California Oregon Railroad
+Company--including some that had not as yet developed! The result was
+copious and persistent publicity for the new railroad company, and the
+arousing in the public mind of a genuine interest in this railroad which
+was to do so much for the town of Sequoia.
+
+Colonel Seth Pennington was among those who, skeptical at first and
+inclined to ridicule the project into an early grave, eventually found
+himself swayed by the publicity and gradually coerced into serious
+consideration of the results attendant upon the building of the road.
+The Colonel was naturally as suspicious as a rattlesnake in August;
+hence he had no sooner emerged from the ranks of the frank scoffers than
+his alert mind framed the question:
+
+"How is this new road--improbable as I know it to be--going to affect
+the interests of the Laguna Grande Lumber Company, if the unexpected
+should happen and those bunco-steerers should actually build a road
+from Sequoia to Grant's Pass, Oregon, and thus construct a feeder to a
+transcontinental line?"
+
+Five minutes of serious reflection sufficed to bring the Colonel to the
+verge of panic, notwithstanding the fact that he was ashamed of himself
+for yielding to fright despite his firm belief that there was no reason
+why he should be frightened. Similar considerations occur to a small boy
+who is walking home in the dark past a cemetery.
+
+The vital aspects of his predicament dawned on the Colonel one night at
+dinner, midway between the soup and the fish. So forcibly did they occur
+to him, in fact, that for the nonce he forgot that his niece was seated
+opposite him.
+
+"Confound them," the Colonel murmured distinctly, "I must look into this
+immediately."
+
+"Look into what, Uncle dear?" Shirley asked innocently.
+
+"This new railroad that man Ogilvy talks of building--which means,
+Shirley, that with Sequoia as his starting point, he is going to build
+a hundred and fifty miles north to connect with the main line of the
+Southern Pacific in Oregon."
+
+"But wouldn't that be the finest thing that could possibly happen to
+Humboldt County?" she demanded of him.
+
+"Undoubtedly it would--to Humboldt County; but to the Laguna Grande
+Lumber Company, in which you have something more than a sentimental
+interest, my dear, it would be a blow. A large part of the estate left
+by your father is invested in Laguna Grande stock, and as you know, all
+of my efforts are devoted to appreciating that stock and to fighting
+against anything that has a tendency to depreciate it."
+
+"Which reminds me, Uncle Seth, that you never discuss with me any of the
+matters pertaining to my business interests," she suggested.
+
+He beamed upon her with his patronizing and indulgent smile. "There is
+no reason why you should puzzle that pretty head of yours with business
+affairs while I am alive and on the job," he answered. "However, since
+you have expressed a desire to have this railroad situation explained
+to you, I will do so. I am not interested in seeing a feeder built from
+Sequoia north to Grant's Pass, and connecting with the Southern Pacific,
+but I am tremendously interested in seeing a feeder built south from
+Sequoia toward San Francisco, to connect with the Northwestern Pacific."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"For cold, calculating business reasons, my dear." He hesitated a moment
+and then resumed: "A few months ago I would not have told you the things
+I am about to tell you, Shirley, for the reason that a few months ago
+it seemed to me you were destined to become rather friendly with young
+Cardigan. When that fellow desires to be agreeable, he can be rather a
+likable boy--lovable, even. You are both young; with young people who
+have many things in common and are thrown together in a community like
+Sequoia, a lively friendship may develop into an ardent love; and it
+has been my experience that ardent love not infrequently leads to the
+altar."
+
+Shirley blushed, and her uncle chuckled good-naturedly. "Fortunately,"
+he continued, "Bryce Cardigan had the misfortune to show himself to
+you in his true colours, and you had the good sense to dismiss him.
+Consequently I see no reason why I should not explain to you now what
+I considered it the part of wisdom to withhold from you at that
+time--provided, of course, that all this does not bore you to
+extinction."
+
+"Do go on, Uncle Seth. I'm tremendously interested," averred Shirley.
+
+"Shortly after I launched the Laguna Grande Lumber Company--in which, as
+your guardian and executor of your father's estate, I deemed it wise to
+invest part of your inheritance--I found myself forced to seek further
+for sound investments for your surplus funds. Now, good timber,
+bought cheap, inevitably will be sold dear. At least, such has been my
+observation during a quarter of a century--and old John Cardigan
+had some twenty thousand acres of the finest redwood timber in the
+State--timber which had cost him an average price of less than fifty
+cents per thousand.
+
+"Well, in this instance the old man had overreached himself, and finding
+it necessary to increase his working capital, he incorporated his
+holdings into the Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company and floated a
+bond-issue of a million dollars. They were twenty-year six per cent.
+certificates; the security was ample, and I invested for you three
+hundred thousand dollars in Cardigan bonds. I bought them at eighty, and
+they were worth two hundred; at least, they would have been worth two
+hundred under my management--"
+
+"How did you manage to buy them so cheap?" she interrupted.
+
+"Old Cardigan had had a long run of bad luck--due to bad management and
+bad judgment, my dear--and when a corporation is bonded, the bondholders
+have access to its financial statements. From time to time I discovered
+bondholders who needed money and hence unloaded at a sacrifice; but by
+far the majority of the bonds I purchased for your account were owned by
+local people who had lost confidence in John Cardigan and the future of
+the redwood lumber industry hereabouts. You understand, do you not?"
+
+"I do not understand what all this has to do with a railroad."
+
+"Very well--I shall proceed to explain." He held up his index finger.
+"Item one: For years old John Cardigan has rendered valueless, because
+inaccessible, twenty-five hundred acres of Laguna Grande timber on Squaw
+Creek. His absurd Valley of the Giants blocks the outlet, and of course
+he persisted in refusing me a right of way through that little dab of
+timber in order to discourage me and force me to sell him that Squaw
+Creek timber at his price."
+
+"Yes," Shirley agreed, "I dare say that was his object. Was it
+reprehensible of him, Uncle Seth?"
+
+"Not a bit, my dear. He was simply playing the cold game of business.
+I would have done the same thing to Cardigan had the situation been
+reversed. We played a game together--and I admit that he won, fairly and
+squarely."
+
+"Then why is it that you feel such resentment against him?"
+
+"Oh, I don't resent the old fool, Shirley. He merely annoys me. I
+suppose I feel a certain natural chagrin at having been beaten, and in
+consequence cherish an equally natural desire to pay the old schemer
+back in his own coin. Under the rules as we play the game, such action
+on my part is perfectly permissible, is it not?"
+
+"Yes," she agreed frankly, "I think it is, Uncle Seth. Certainly, if he
+blocked you and rendered your timber valueless, there is no reason why,
+if you have the opportunity, you should not block him--and render his
+timber valueless."
+
+The Colonel banged the table with his fist so heartily that the silver
+fairly leaped. "Spoken like a man!" he declared. "I HAVE the opportunity
+and am proceeding to impress the Cardigans with the truth of the old
+saying that every dog must have his day. When Cardigan's contract with
+our road for the hauling of his logs expires by limitation next year, I
+am not going to renew it--at least not until I have forced him to make
+me the concessions I desire, and certainly not at the present ruinous
+freight-rate."
+
+"Then," said Shirley eagerly, "if you got a right of way through his
+Valley of the Giants, you would renew the contract he has with you for
+the hauling of his logs, would you not?"
+
+"I would have, before young Cardigan raised such Hades that day in
+the logging-camp, before old Cardigan sold his Valley of the Giants to
+another burglar--and before I had gathered indubitable evidence that
+neither of the Cardigans knows enough about managing a sawmill and
+selling lumber to guarantee a reasonable profit on the capital they
+have invested and still pay the interest on their bonded and floating
+indebtedness. Shirley, I bought those Cardigan bonds for you because
+I thought old Cardigan knew his business and would make the bonds
+valuable--make them worth par. Instead, the Cardigan Redwood Lumber
+Company is tottering on the verge of bankruptcy; the bonds I purchased
+for you are now worth less than I paid for them, and by next year the
+Cardigans will default on the interest.
+
+"So I'm going to sit tight and decline to have any more business
+dealings with the Cardigans. When their hauling contract expires, I
+shall not renew it under any circumstances; that will prevent them
+from getting logs, and so they will automatically go out of the lumber
+business and into the hands of a receiver; and since you are the largest
+individual stockholder, I, representing you and a number of minor
+bondholders, will dominate the executive committee of the bondholders
+when they meet to consider what shall be done when the Cardigans default
+on their interest and the payment due the sinking fund. I shall then
+have myself appointed receiver for the Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company,
+investigate its affairs thoroughly, and see for myself whether or no
+there is a possibility of working it out of the jam it is in and saving
+you a loss on your bonds.
+
+"I MUST pursue this course, my dear, in justice to you and the other
+bondholders. If, on the other hand, I find the situation hopeless or
+conclude that a period of several years must ensue before the Cardigans
+work out of debt, I shall recommend to the bank which holds the deed of
+trust and acts as trustee, that the property be sold at public auction
+to the highest bidder to reimburse the bondholders. Of course," he
+hastened to add, "if the property sells for more than the corporation
+owes such excess will then in due course be turned over to the
+Cardigans."
+
+"Is it likely to sell at a price in excess of the indebtedness?" Shirley
+queried anxiously.
+
+"It is possible, but scarcely probable," he answered dryly. "I have in
+mind, under those circumstances, bidding the property in for the Laguna
+Grande Lumber Company and merging it with our holdings, paying part of
+the purchase-price of the Cardigan property in Cardigan bonds, and the
+remainder in cash."
+
+"But what will the Cardigans do then, Uncle Seth?"
+
+"Well, long before the necessity for such a contingency arises, the
+old man will have been gathered to the bosom of Abraham; and after the
+Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company has ceased to exist, young Cardigan can
+go to work for a living."
+
+"Would you give him employment, Uncle Seth?"
+
+"I would not. Do you think I'm crazy, Shirley? Remember, my dear,
+there is no sentiment in business. If there was, we wouldn't have any
+business."
+
+"I think I understand, Uncle Seth--with the exception of what effect the
+building of the N. C. O. has upon your plans."
+
+"Item two," he challenged, and ticked it off on his middle finger. "The
+Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company owns two fine bodies of redwood
+timber widely separated--one to the south of Sequoia in the San Hedrin
+watershed and at present practically valueless because inaccessible, and
+the other to the north of Sequoia, immediately adjoining our holdings
+in Township Nine and valuable because of its accessibility." He paused
+a moment and looked at her smilingly, "The logging railroad of our
+corporation, the Laguna Grande Lumber Company, makes it accessible. Now,
+while the building of the N.C.O. would be a grand thing for the county
+in general, we can get along without it because it doesn't help us out
+particularly. We already have a railroad running from our timber to
+tidewater, and we can reach the markets of the world with our ships."
+
+"I think I understand, Uncle Seth. When Cardigan's hauling contract with
+our road expires, his timber in Township Nine will depreciate in value
+because it will no longer be accessible, while our timber, being still
+accessible, retains its value."
+
+"Exactly. And to be perfectly frank with you, Shirley, I do not
+want Cardigan's timber in Township Nine given back its value through
+accessibility provided by the N.C.O. If that road is not built,
+Cardigan's timber in Township Nine will be valuable to us, but not to
+another living soul. Moreover, the Trinidad Redwood Timber Company has
+a raft of fine timber still farther north and adjoining the holdings
+of our company and Cardigan's, and if this infernal N.C.O. isn't built,
+we'll be enabled to buy that Trinidad timber pretty cheap one of these
+bright days, too."
+
+"All of which appears to me to constitute sound business logic, Uncle
+Seth."
+
+He nodded. "Item three," he continued, and ticked it off on his third
+finger: "I want to see the feeder for a transcontinental line built into
+Sequoia from the south, for the reason that it will tap the Cardigan
+holdings in the San Hedrin watershed and give a tremendous value
+to timber which at the present time is rather a negative asset;
+consequently I would prefer to have that value created after Cardigan's
+San Hedrin timber has been merged with the assets of the Laguna Grande
+Lumber Company."
+
+"And so--"
+
+"I must investigate this N.C.O. outfit and block it if possible--and it
+should be possible."
+
+"How, for instance?"
+
+"I haven't considered the means, my dear. Those come later. For the
+present I am convinced that the N.C.O. is a corporate joke, sprung on
+the dear public by the Trinidad Redwood Timber Company to get the said
+dear public excited, create a real-estate boom, and boost timber-values.
+Before the boom collapses--a condition which will follow the collapse of
+the N.C.O.--the Trinidad people hope to sell their holdings and get from
+under."
+
+"Really," said Shirley, demurely, "the more I see of business, the more
+fascinating I find it."
+
+"Shirley, it's the grandest game in the world."
+
+"And yet," she added musingly, "old Mr. Cardigan is so blind and
+helpless."
+
+"They'll be saying that about me some day if I live to be as old as John
+Cardigan."
+
+"Nevertheless, I feel sorry for him, Uncle Seth."
+
+"Well, if you'll continue to waste your sympathy on him rather than on
+his son, I'll not object," he retorted laughingly.
+
+"Oh, Bryce Cardigan is able to take care of himself."
+
+"Yes, and mean enough."
+
+"He saved our lives, Uncle Seth."
+
+"He had to--in order to save his own. Don't forget that, my dear."
+Carefully he dissected a sand-dab and removed the backbone. "I'd give
+a ripe peach to learn the identity of the scheming buttinsky who bought
+old Cardigan's Valley of the Giants," he said presently. "I'll be hanged
+if that doesn't complicate matters a little."
+
+"You should have bought it when the opportunity offered," she reminded
+him. "You could have had it then for fifty thousand dollars less than
+you would have paid for it a year ago--and I'm sure that should have
+been sufficient indication to you that the game you and the Cardigans
+had been playing so long had come to an end. He was beaten and
+acknowledged it, and I think you might have been a little more generous
+to your fallen enemy, Uncle Seth."
+
+"I dare say," he admitted lightly. "However, I wasn't, and now I'm going
+to be punished for it, my dear: so don't roast me any more. By the
+way, that speckled hot-air fellow Ogilvy, who is promoting the Northern
+California Oregon Railroad, is back in town again. Somehow, I haven't
+much confidence in that fellow. I think I'll wire the San Francisco
+office to look him up in Dun's and Bradstreet's. Folks up this way are
+taking too much for granted on that fellow's mere say--so, but I for
+one intend to delve for facts--particularly with regard to the N.C.O.
+bank-roll and Ogilvy's associates. I'd sleep a whole lot more soundly
+to-night if I knew the answer to two very important questions."
+
+"What are they, Uncle Seth?"
+
+"Well, I'd like to know whether the N.C.O. is genuine or a screen to
+hide the operations of the Trinidad Redwood Timber Company."
+
+"It might," said Shirley, with one of those sudden flashes of intuition
+peculiar to women, "be a screen to hide the operations of Bryce
+Cardigan. Now that he knows you aren't going to renew his hauling
+contract, he may have decided to build his own logging railroad."
+
+After a pause the Colonel made answer: "No, I have no fear of that. It
+would cost five hundred thousand dollars to build that twelve-mile
+line and bridge Mad River, and the Cardigans haven't got that amount of
+money. What's more, they can't get it."
+
+"But suppose," she persisted, "that the real builder of the road should
+prove to be Bryce Cardigan, after all. What would you do?"
+
+Colonel Pennington's eyes twinkled. "I greatly fear, my dear, I should
+make a noise like something doing."
+
+"Suppose you lost the battle."
+
+"In that event the Laguna Grande Lumber Company wouldn't be any worse
+off than it is at present. The principal loser, as I view the situation,
+would be Miss Shirley Sumner, who has the misfortune to be loaded up
+with Cardigan bonds. And as for Bryce Cardigan--well, that young man
+would certainly know he'd been through a fight."
+
+"I wonder if he'll fight to the last, Uncle Seth."
+
+"Why, I believe he will," Pennington replied soberly.
+
+"I'd love to see you beat him."
+
+"Shirley! Why, my dear, you're growing ferocious." Her uncle's tones
+were laden with banter, but his countenance could not conceal the
+pleasure her last remark had given him.
+
+"Why not? I have something at stake, have I not?"
+
+"Then you really want me to smash him?" The Colonel's voice proclaimed
+his incredulity.
+
+"You got me into this fight by buying Cardigan bonds for me," she
+replied meaningly, "and I look to you to save the investment or as
+much of it as possible; for certainly, if it should develop that the
+Cardigans are the real promoters of the N.C.O., to permit them to go
+another half-million dollars into debt in a forlorn hope of saving a
+company already top-heavy with indebtedness wouldn't savor of common
+business sense. Would it?"
+
+The Colonel rose hastily, came around the table, and kissed her
+paternally. "My dear," he murmured, "you're such a comfort to me. Upon
+my word, you are."
+
+"I'm so glad you have explained the situation to me, Uncle Seth."
+
+"I would have explained it long ago had I not cherished a sneaking
+suspicion that--er--well, that despite everything, young Cardigan
+might--er--influence you against your better judgment and--er--mine."
+
+"You silly man!"
+
+He shrugged. "One must figure every angle of a possible situation, my
+dear, and I should hesitate to start something with the Cardigans, and
+have you, because of foolish sentiment, call off my dogs."
+
+Shirley thrust out her adorable chin aggressively. "Sick 'em. Tige!" she
+answered. "Shake 'em up, boy!"
+
+"You bet I'll shake 'em up," the Colonel declared joyously. He
+paused with a morsel of food on his fork and waved the fork at her
+aggressively. "You stimulate me into activity, Shirley. My mind has been
+singularly dull of late; I have worried unnecessarily, but now that I
+know you are with me, I am inspired. I'll tell you how we'll fix this
+new railroad, if it exhibits signs of being dangerous." Again he smote
+the table. "We'll sew 'em up tighter than a new buttonhole."
+
+"Do tell me how," she pleaded eagerly.
+
+"I'll block them on their franchise to run over the city streets of
+Sequoia."
+
+"How?"
+
+"By making the mayor and the city council see things my way," he
+answered dryly. "Furthermore, in order to enter Sequoia, the N. C. O.
+will have to cross the tracks of the Laguna Grande Lumber Company's line
+on Water Street--make a jump-crossing--and I'll enjoin them and hold
+them up in the courts till the cows come home."
+
+"Uncle Seth, you're a wizard."
+
+"Well, at least I'm no slouch at looking after my own interests--and
+yours, Shirley. In the midst of peace we should be prepared for war.
+You've met Mayor Poundstone and his lady, haven't you?"
+
+"I had tea at her house last week."
+
+"Good news. Suppose you invite her and Poundstone here for dinner some
+night this week. Just a quiet little family dinner, Shirley, and after
+dinner you can take Mrs. Poundstone upstairs, on some pretext or other,
+while I sound Poundstone out on his attitude toward the N. C. O. They
+haven't asked for a franchise yet; at least, the Sentinel hasn't printed
+a word about it;--but when they do, of course the franchise will be
+advertised for sale to the highest bidder. Naturally, I don't want to
+bid against them; they might run the price up on me and leave me with
+a franchise on my hands--something I do not want, because I have no use
+for the blamed thing myself. I feel certain, however, I can find some
+less expensive means of keeping them out of it--say by convincing
+Poundstone and a majority of the city council that the N. C. O. is not
+such a public asset as its promoters claim for it. Hence I think it wise
+to sound the situation out in advance, don't you, my dear?"
+
+She nodded. "I shall attend to the matter, Uncle Seth."
+
+Five minutes after dinner was over, Shirley joined her uncle in the
+library and announced that His Honor, the Mayor, and Mrs. Poundstone,
+would be delighted to dine with them on the following Thursday night.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+To return to Bryce Cardigan: Having completed his preliminary plans
+to build the N. C. O., Bryce had returned to Sequoia, prepared to sit
+quietly on the side-lines and watch his peppery henchman Buck Ogilvy go
+into action. The more Bryce considered that young man's fitness for
+the position he occupied, the more satisfied did he become with his
+decision. While he had not been in touch with Ogilvy for several years,
+he had known him intimately at Princeton.
+
+In his last year at college Ogilvy's father, a well-known railroad
+magnate, had come a disastrous cropper in the stock market, thus
+throwing Buck upon his own resources and cutting short his college
+career--which was probably the very best thing that could happen to
+his father's son. For a brief period--perhaps five minutes--Buck had
+staggered under the blow; then his tremendous optimism had asserted
+itself, and while he packed his trunk, he had planned for the future.
+As to how that future had developed, the reader will have gleaned
+some slight idea from the information imparted in his letter to Bryce
+Cardigan, already quoted. In a word, Mr. Ogilvy had had his ups and
+downs.
+
+Ogilvy's return to Sequoia following his three-weeks tour in search of
+rights of way for the N. C. O. was heralded by a visit from him to
+Bryce Cardigan at the latter's office. As he breasted the counter in the
+general office, Moira McTavish left her desk and came over to see what
+the visitor desired.
+
+"I should like to see Mr. Bryce Cardigan," Buck began in crisp
+businesslike accents. He was fumbling in his card-case and did not look
+up until about to hand his card to Moira--when his mouth flew half open,
+the while he stared at her with consummate frankness. The girl's glance
+met his momentarily, then was lowered modestly; she took the card and
+carried it to Bryce.
+
+"Hum-m-m!" Bryce grunted. "That noisy fellow Ogilvy, eh?"
+
+"His clothes are simply wonderful--and so is his voice. He's very
+refined. But he's carroty red and has freckled hands, Mr. Bryce."
+
+Bryce rose and sauntered into the general office.
+
+"Mr. Bryce Cardigan?" Buck queried politely, with an interrogative lift
+of his blond eyebrows.
+
+"At your service, Mr. Ogilvy. Please come in."
+
+"Thank you so much, sir." He followed Bryce to the latter's private
+office, closed the door carefully behind him, and stood with his broad
+back against it.
+
+"Buck, are you losing your mind?" Bryce demanded.
+
+"Losing it? I should say not. I've just lost it."
+
+"I believe you. If you were quite sane, you wouldn't run the risk of
+being seen entering my office."
+
+"Tut-tut, old dear! None of that! Am I not the main-spring of the
+Northern California Oregon Railroad and privileged to run the destinies
+of that soulless corporation as I see fit?" He sat down, crossed his
+long legs, and jerked a speckled thumb toward the outer office. "I was
+sane when I came in here, but the eyes of the girl outside--oh, yow,
+them eyes! I must be introduced to her. And you're scolding me for
+coming around here in broad daylight. Why, you duffer, if I come at
+night, d'ye suppose I'd have met her? Be sensible."
+
+"You like Moira's eyes, eh?"
+
+"I've never seen anything like them. Zounds, I'm afire. I have little
+prickly sensations, like ants running over me. How can you be insensate
+enough to descend to labour with an houri like that around? Oh, man! To
+think of an angel like that WORKING--to think of a brute like you making
+her work!"
+
+"Love at first sight, eh, Buck?"
+
+"I don't know what it is, but it's nice. Who is she?"
+
+"She's Moira McTavish, and you're not to make love to her. Understand? I
+can't have you snooping around this office after to-day."
+
+Mr. Ogilvy's eyes popped with interest. "Oh," he breathed. "You have an
+eye to the main chance yourself have you? Have you proposed to the lady
+as yet?"
+
+"No, you idiot."
+
+"Then I'll match you for her--or rather for the chance to propose
+first." Buck produced a dollar and spun it in the air.
+
+"Nothing doing, Buck. Spare yourself these agonizing suspicions. The
+fact of the matter is that you give me a wonderful inspiration. I've
+always been afraid Moira would fall in love with some ordinary fellow
+around Sequoia--propinquity, you know--"
+
+"You bet. Propinquity's the stuff. I'll stick around."
+
+"--and I we been on the lookout for a fine man to marry her off to.
+She's too wonderful for you, Buck, but in time you might learn to live
+up to her."
+
+"Duck! I'm liable to kiss you."
+
+"Don't be too precipitate. Her father used to be our woods-boss. I fired
+him for boozing."
+
+"I wouldn't care two hoots if her dad was old Nick himself. I'm going to
+marry her--if she'll have me. Ah, the glorious creature!" He waved his
+long arms despairingly. "O Lord, send me a cure for freckles. Bryce,
+you'll speak a kind word for me, won't you--sort of boom my stock, eh?
+Be a good fellow."
+
+"Certainly. Now come down to earth and render a report on your
+stewardship."
+
+"I'll try. To begin, I've secured rights of way, at a total cost of
+twelve thousand, one hundred and three dollars and nine cents, from
+the city limits of Sequoia to the southern boundary of your timber in
+Township Nine. I've got my line surveyed, and so far as the building of
+the road is concerned, I know exactly what I'm going to do, and how and
+when I'm going to do it, once I get my material on the ground."
+
+"What steps have you taken toward securing your material?"
+
+"Well, I can close a favourable contract for steel rails with the
+Colorado Steel Products Company. Their schedule of deliveries is O.
+K. as far as San Francisco, but it's up to you to provide water
+transportation from there to Sequoia."
+
+"We can handle the rails on our steam schooners. Next?"
+
+"I have an option of a rattling good second-hand locomotive down at
+the Santa Fe shops, and the Hawkins & Barnes Construction Company have
+offered me a steam shovel, half a dozen flat-cars, and a lot of fresnos
+and scrapers at ruinous prices. This equipment is pretty well worn, and
+they want to get rid of it before buying new stuff for their contract
+to build the Arizona and Sonora Central. However, it is first-rate
+equipment for us, because it will last until we're through with it; then
+we can scrap it for junk. We can buy or rent teams from local citizens
+and get half of our labour locally. San Francisco employment bureaus
+will readily supply the remainder, and I have half a dozen fine boys
+on tap to boss the steam shovel, pile-driver, bridge-building gang,
+track-layer and construction gang. And as soon as you tell me how I'm to
+get my material ashore and out on the job, I'll order it and get busy."
+
+"That's exactly where the shoe begins to pinch, Pennington's main-line
+tracks enter the city along Water Street, with one spur into his
+log-dump and another out on his mill-dock. From the main-line tracks we
+also have built a spur through our drying-yard out to our log-dump and a
+switch-line out on to our milldock. We can unload our locomotive, steam
+shovel, and flat-cars on our own wharf, but unless Pennington gives us
+permission to use his main-line tracks out to a point beyond the city
+limits--where a Y will lead off to the point where our construction
+begins--we're up a stump."
+
+"Suppose he refuses, Bryce. What then?"
+
+"Why, we'll simply have to enter the city down Front Street, paralleling
+Pennington's tracks on Water Street, turning down B Street, make a
+jump-crossing of Pennington's line on Water Street, and connecting with
+the spur into our yard."
+
+"Can't have an elbow turn at Front and B streets?"
+
+"Don't have to. We own a square block on that corner, and we'll build
+across it, making a gradual turn."
+
+"See here, my son," Buck said solemnly, "is this your first adventure in
+railroad building?"
+
+Bryce nodded.
+
+"I thought so; otherwise you wouldn't talk so confidently of running
+your line over city streets and making jump-crossings on your
+competitor's road. If your competitor regards you as a menace to his
+pocketbook, he can give you a nice little run for your money and delay
+you indefinitely."
+
+"I realize that, Buck. That's why I'm not appearing in this railroad
+deal at all. If Pennington suspected I was back of it, he'd fight me
+before the city council and move heaven and earth to keep me out of a
+franchise to use the city streets and cross his line. Of course, since
+his main line runs on city property, under a franchise granted by the
+city, the city has a perfect right to grant me the privilege of making a
+jump-crossing of his line---"
+
+"Will they do it? That's the problem. If they will not, you're licked,
+my son, and I'm out of a job."
+
+"We can sue and condemn a right of way."
+
+"Yes, but if the city council puts up a plea that it is against the best
+interests of the city to grant the franchise, you'll find that except in
+most extraordinary cases, the courts regard it as against public policy
+to give judgment against a municipality, the State or the Government of
+the United States. At any rate, they'll hang you up in the courts till
+you die of old age; and as I understand the matter, you have to have
+this line running in less than a year, or go out of business."
+
+Bryce hung his head thoughtfully. "I've been too cocksure," he muttered
+presently. "I shouldn't have spent that twelve thousand for rights of
+way until I had settled the matter of the franchise."
+
+"Oh, I didn't buy any rights of way--yet," Ogilvy hastened to assure
+him. "I've only signed the land-owners up on an agreement to give or
+sell me a right of way at the stipulated figures any time within
+one year from date. The cost of the surveying gang and my salary and
+expenses are all that you are out to date."
+
+"Buck, you're a wonder."
+
+"Not at all. I've merely been through all this before and have profited
+by my experience. Now, then, to get back to our muttons. Will the city
+council grant you a franchise to enter the city and jump Pennington's
+tracks?"
+
+"I'm sure I don't know, Buck. You'll have to ask them--sound them out.
+The city council meets Saturday morning."
+
+"They'll meet this evening--in the private diningroom of the Hotel
+Sequoia, if I can arrange it," Buck Ogilvy declared emphatically. "I'm
+going to have them all up for dinner and talk the matter over. I'm not
+exactly aged, Bryce, but I've handled about fifteen city councils
+and county boards of supervisors, not to mention Mexican and Central
+American governors and presidents, in my day, and I know the breed from
+cover to cover. Following a preliminary conference, I'll let you know
+whether you're going to get that franchise without difficulty or whether
+somebody's itchy palm will have to be crossed with silver first. Honest
+men never temporize. You know where they stand, but a grafter temporizes
+and plays a waiting game, hoping to wear your patience down to the point
+where you'll ask him bluntly to name his figure. By the way, what do you
+know about your blighted old city council, anyway?"
+
+"Two of the five councilmen are for sale; two are honest men--and one
+is an uncertain quantity. The mayor is a politician. I've known them all
+since boyhood, and if I dared come out in the open, I think that even
+the crooks have sentiment enough for what the Cardigans stand for in
+this county to decline to hold me up."
+
+"Then why not come out in the open and save trouble and expense?"
+
+"I am not ready to have a lot of notes called on me," Bryce replied
+dryly. "Neither am I desirous of having the Laguna Grande Lumber Company
+start a riot in the redwood lumber market by cutting prices to a point
+where I would have to sell my lumber at a loss in order to get hold of a
+little ready money. Neither do I desire to have trees felled across the
+right of way of Pennington's road after his trainloads of logs have gone
+through and before mine have started from the woods. I don't want my
+log-landings jammed until I can't move, and I don't want Pennington's
+engineer to take a curve in such a hurry that he'll whip my loaded
+logging-trucks off into a canon and leave me hung up for lack of
+rolling-stock. I tell you, the man has me under his thumb, and the only
+way I can escape is to slip out when he isn't looking. He can do too
+many things to block the delivery of my logs and then dub them acts
+of God, in order to avoid a judgment against him on suit for
+non-performance of his hauling contract with this company."
+
+"Hum-m-m! Slimy old beggar, isn't he? I dare say he wouldn't hesitate to
+buy the city council to block you, would he?"
+
+"I know he'll lie and steal. I dare say he'd corrupt a public official."
+
+Buck Ogilvy rose and stretched himself. "I've got my work cut out for
+me, haven't I?" he declared with a yawn. "However, it'll be a fight
+worth while, and that at least will make it interesting. Well?"
+
+Bryce pressed the buzzer on his desk, and a moment later Moira entered.
+"Permit me, Moira, to present Mr. Ogilvy. Mr. Ogilvy, Miss McTavish."
+The introduction having been acknowledged by both parties, Bryce
+continued: "Mr. Ogilvy will have frequent need to interview me at this
+office, Moira, but it is our joint desire that his visits here shall
+remain a profound secret to everybody with the exception of ourselves.
+To that end he will hereafter call at night, when this portion of the
+town is absolutely deserted. You have an extra key to the office, Moira.
+I wish you would give it to Mr. Ogilvy."
+
+The girl nodded. "Mr. Ogilvy will have to take pains to avoid our
+watchman," she suggested.
+
+"That is a point well taken, Moira. Buck, when you call, make it a point
+to arrive here promptly on the hour. The watchman will be down in the
+mill then, punching the time-clock."
+
+Again Moira inclined her dark head and withdrew. Mr. Buck Ogilvy
+groaned. "God speed the day when you can come out from under and I'll
+be permitted to call during office hours," he murmured. He picked up
+his hat and withdrew, via the general office. Half an hour later, Bryce
+looked out and saw him draped over the counter, engaged in animated
+conversation with Moira McTavish. Before Ogilvy left, he had managed to
+impress Moira with a sense of the disadvantage under which he laboured
+through being forced, because of circumstances Mr. Cardigan would
+doubtless relate to her in due course, to abandon all hope of seeing her
+at the office--at least for some time to come. Then he spoke feelingly
+of the unmitigated horror of being a stranger in a strange town, forced
+to sit around hotel lobbies with drummers and other lost souls, and drew
+from Moira the assurance that it wasn't more distressing than having to
+sit around a boardinghouse night after night watching old women tat and
+tattle.
+
+This was the opening Buck Ogilvy had sparred for. Fixing Moira with his
+bright blue eyes, he grinned boldly and said: "Suppose, Miss McTavish,
+we start a league for the dispersion of gloom. You be the president, and
+I'll be the financial secretary."
+
+"How would the league operate?" Moira demanded cautiously.
+
+"Well, it might begin by giving a dinner to all the members, followed
+by a little motor-trip into the country next Saturday afternoon," Buck
+suggested.
+
+Moira's Madonna glance appraised him steadily. "I haven't known you very
+long, Mr. Ogilvy," she reminded him.
+
+"Oh, I'm easy to get acquainted with," he retorted lightly. "Besides,
+don't I come well recommended?" He pondered for a moment. Then: "I'll
+tell you what, Miss McTavish. Suppose we put it up to Bryce Cardigan.
+If he says it's all right we'll pull off the party. If he says it's all
+wrong, I'll go out and drown myself--and fairer words than them has no
+man spoke."
+
+"I'll think it over," said Moira.
+
+"By all means. Never decide such an important matter in a hurry. Just
+tell me your home telephone number, and I'll ring up at seven this
+evening for your decision."
+
+Reluctantly Moira gave him the number. She was not at all prejudiced
+against this carroty stranger--in fact, she had a vague suspicion that
+he was a sure cure for the blues, an ailment which she suffered from
+all too frequently; and, moreover, his voice, his respectful manner,
+his alert eyes, and his wonderful clothing were all rather alluring.
+Womanlike, she was flattered at being noticed--particularly by a man
+like Ogilvy, whom it was plain to be seen was vastly superior to any
+male even in Sequoia, with the sole exception of Bryce Cardigan. The
+flutter of a great adventure was in Moira's heart, and the flush of
+a thousand roses in her cheeks when, Buck Ogilvy having at length
+departed, she went into Bryce's private office to get his opinion as to
+the propriety of accepting the invitation.
+
+Bryce listened to her gravely as with all the sweet innocence of her
+years and unworldliness she laid the Ogilvy proposition before him.
+
+"By all means, accept," he counselled her. "Buck Ogilvy is one of the
+finest gentlemen you'll ever meet. I'll stake my reputation on him.
+You'll find him vastly amusing, Moira. He'd make Niobe forget her
+troubles, and he DOES know how to order a dinner."
+
+"Don't you think I ought to have a chaperon?"
+
+"Well, it isn't necessary, although it's good form in a small town like
+Sequoia, where everybody knows everybody else."
+
+"I thought so," Moira murmured thoughtfully. "I'll ask Miss Sumner to
+come with us. Mr. Ogilvy won't mind the extra expense, I'm sure."
+
+"He'll be delighted," Bryce assured her maliciously. "Ask Miss Sumner,
+by all means."
+
+When Moira had left him, Bryce sighed. "Gosh!" he murmured. "I wish I
+could go, too."
+
+He was roused from his bitter introspections presently by the ringing of
+the telephone. To his amazement Shirley Sumner was calling him!
+
+"You're a wee bit surprised, aren't you, Mr. Cardigan?" she said
+teasingly.
+
+"I am," he answered honestly. "I had a notion I was quite persona non
+grata with you."
+
+"Are you relieved to find you are not? You aren't, you know."
+
+"Thank you. I am relieved."
+
+"I suppose you're wondering why I have telephoned to you?"
+
+"No, I haven't had time. The suddenness of it all has left me more or
+less dumb. Why did you ring up?"
+
+"I wanted some advice. Suppose you wanted very, very much to know what
+two people were talking about, but found yourself in a position where
+you couldn't eavesdrop. What would you do?"
+
+"I wouldn't eavesdrop," he told her severely. "That isn't a nice thing
+to do, and I didn't think you would contemplate anything that isn't
+nice."
+
+"I wouldn't ordinarily. But I have every moral, ethical, and financial
+right to be a party to that conversation, only--well--"
+
+"With you present there would be no conversation--is that it?"
+
+"Exactly, Mr. Cardigan."
+
+"And it is of the utmost importance that you should know what is said?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And you do not intend to use your knowledge of this conversation, when
+gained, for an illegal or unethical purpose?"
+
+"I do not. On the contrary, if I am aware of what is being planned, I
+can prevent others from doing something illegal and unethical."
+
+"In that event, Shirley, I should say you are quite justified in
+eavesdropping."
+
+"But how can I do it? I can't hide in a closet and listen."
+
+"Buy a dictograph and have it hidden in the room where the conversation
+takes place. It will record every word of it."
+
+"Where can I buy one?"
+
+"In San Francisco."
+
+"Will you telephone to your San Francisco office and have them buy one
+for me and ship it to you, together with directions for using. George
+Sea Otter can bring it over to me when it arrives."
+
+"Shirley, this is most extraordinary."
+
+"I quite realize that. May I depend upon you to oblige me in this
+matter?"
+
+"Certainly. But why pick on me, of all persons, to perform such a
+mission for you?"
+
+"I can trust you to forget that you have performed it."
+
+"Thank you. I think you may safely trust me. And I shall attend to the
+matter immediately."
+
+"You are very kind, Mr. Cardigan. How is your dear old father? Moira
+told me sometime ago that he was ill."
+
+"He's quite well again, thank you. By the way, Moira doesn't know that
+you and I have ever met. Why don't you tell her?"
+
+"I can't answer that question--now. Perhaps some day I may be in a
+position to do so."
+
+"It's too bad the circumstances are such that we, who started out to be
+such agreeable friends, see so little of each other, Shirley."
+
+"Indeed, it is. However, it's all your fault. I have told you once how
+you can obviate that distressing situation. But you're so stubborn, Mr.
+Cardigan."
+
+"I haven't got to the point where I like crawling on my hands and
+knees," he flared back at her.
+
+"Even for your sake, I decline to simulate friendship or tolerance for
+your uncle; hence I must be content to let matters stand as they are
+between us."
+
+She laughed lightly. "So you are still uncompromisingly
+belligerent--still after Uncle Seth's scalp?"
+
+"Yes; and I think I'm going to get it. At any rate, he isn't going to
+get mine."
+
+"Don't you think you're rather unjust to make me suffer for the sins of
+my relative, Bryce?" she demanded.
+
+She had called him by his first name. He thrilled. "I'm lost in a
+quagmire of debts--I'm helpless now," he murmured. "I'm not fighting
+for myself alone, but for a thousand dependents--for a principle--for
+an ancient sentiment that was my father's and is now mine. You do not
+understand."
+
+"I understand more than you give me credit for, and some day you'll
+realize it. I understand just enough to make me feel sorry for you. I
+understand what even my uncle doesn't suspect at present, and that
+is that you're the directing genius of the Northern California Oregon
+Railroad and hiding behind your friend Ogilvy. Now, listen to me, Bryce
+Cardigan: You're never going to build that road. Do you understand?"
+
+The suddenness of her attack amazed him to such an extent that he did
+not take the trouble to contradict her. Instead he blurted out, angrily
+and defiantly: "I'll build that road if it costs me my life--if it costs
+me you. Understand! I'm in this fight to win."
+
+"You will not build that road," she reiterated.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because I shall not permit you to. I have some financial interest
+in the Laguna Grande Lumber Company, and it is not to that financial
+interest that you should build the N.C.O."
+
+"How did you find out I was behind Ogilvy?"
+
+"Intuition. Then I accused you of it, and you admitted it."
+
+"I suppose you're going to tell your uncle now," he retorted
+witheringly.
+
+"On the contrary, I am not. I greatly fear I was born with a touch of
+sporting blood, Mr. Cardigan, so I'm going to let you two fight until
+you're exhausted, and then I'm going to step in and decide the issue.
+You can save money by surrendering now. I hold the whip hand."
+
+"I prefer to fight. With your permission this bout will go to a
+knockout."
+
+"I'm not so certain I do not like you all the more for that decision.
+And if it will comfort you the least bit, you have my word of honour
+that I shall not reveal to my uncle the identity of the man behind the
+N. C. O. I'm not a tattletale, you know, and moreover I have a great
+curiosity to get to the end of the story. The fact is, both you and
+Uncle Seth annoy me exceedingly. How lovely everything would have been
+if you two hadn't started this feud and forced upon me the task of
+trying to be fair and impartial to you both."
+
+"Can you remain fair and impartial?"
+
+"I think I can--even up to the point of deciding whether or not you are
+going to build that road. Then I shall act independently of you both.
+Forgive my slang, but--I'm going to hand you each a poke then."
+
+"Shirley," he told her earnestly, "listen carefully to what I am about
+to say: I love you. I've loved you from the day I first met you. I shall
+always love you; and when I get around to it, I'm going to ask you
+to marry me. At present, however, that is a right I do not possess.
+However, the day I acquire the right I shall exercise it."
+
+"And when will that day be?" Very softly, in awesome tones!
+
+"The day I drive the last spike in the N. C. O."
+
+Fell a silence. Then: "I'm glad, Bryce Cardigan, you're not a quitter.
+Good-bye, good luck--and don't forget my errand." She hung up and sat
+at the telephone for a moment, dimpled chin in dimpled hand, her glance
+wandering through the window and far away across the roofs of the town
+to where the smoke-stack of Cardigan's mill cut the sky-line. "How I'd
+hate you if I could handle you!" she murmured.
+
+Following this exasperating but illuminating conversation with Shirley
+Sumner over the telephone, Bryce Cardigan was a distressed and badly
+worried man. However, Bryce was a communicant of a very simple faith--to
+wit, that one is never whipped till one is counted out, and the first
+shock of Shirley's discovery having passed, he wasted no time in
+vain repinings but straightway set himself to scheme a way out of his
+dilemma.
+
+For an hour he sat slouched in his chair, chin on breast, the while he
+reviewed every angle of the situation.
+
+He found it impossible, however, to dissociate the business from the
+personal aspects of his relations with Shirley, and he recalled that she
+had the very best of reasons for placing their relations on a business
+basis rather than a sentimental one. He had played a part in their
+little drama which he knew must have baffled and infuriated her. More,
+had she, in those delightful few days of their early acquaintance,
+formed for him a sentiment somewhat stronger than friendship (he did
+not flatter himself that this was so), he could understand her attitude
+toward him as that of the woman scorned. For the present, however, it
+was all a profound and disturbing mystery, and after an hour of futile
+concentration there came to Bryce the old childish impulse to go to
+his father with his troubles. That sturdy old soul, freed from the hot
+passions of youth, its impetuosity and its proneness to consider cause
+rather than effect, had weathered too many storms in his day to permit
+the present one to benumb his brain as it had his son's.
+
+"He will be able to think without having his thoughts blotted out by a
+woman's face," Bryce soliloquized. "He's like one of his own big redwood
+trees; his head is always above the storm."
+
+Straightway Bryce left the office and went home to the old house on the
+knoll. John Cardigan was sitting on the veranda, and from a stand beside
+him George Sea Otter entertained him with a phonograph selection--"The
+Suwanee River," sung by a male quartet. As the gate clicked, John raised
+his head; then as Bryce's quick step spurned the cement walk up
+the little old-fashioned garden, he rose and stood with one hand
+outstretched and trembling a little. He could not see, but with the
+intuition of the blind, he knew.
+
+"What is it, son?" he demanded gently as Bryce came up the low steps.
+"George, choke that contraption off."
+
+Bryce took his father's hand. "I'm in trouble, John Cardigan," he said
+simply, "and I'm not big enough to handle it alone."
+
+The leonine old man smiled, and his smile had all the sweetness of a
+benediction. His boy was in trouble and had come to him. Good! Then he
+would not fail him. "Sit down, son, and tell the old man all about it.
+Begin at the beginning and let me have all the angles of the angle."
+
+Bryce obeyed, and for the first time John Cardigan learned of his son's
+acquaintance with Shirley Sumner and the fact that she had been present
+in Pennington's woods the day Bryce had gone there to settle the score
+with Jules Rondeau. In the wonderful first flush of his love a sense of
+embarrassment, following his discovery of the fact that his father and
+Colonel Pennington were implacable enemies, had decided Bryce not
+to mention the matter of the girl to John Cardigan until the ENTENTE
+CORDIALE between Pennington and his father could be reestablished, for
+Bryce had, with the optimism of his years, entertained for a few days a
+thought that he could bring about this desirable condition of affairs.
+The discovery that he could not, together with his renunciation of his
+love until he should succeed in protecting his heritage and eliminating
+the despair that had come upon his father in the latter's old age, had
+further operated to render unnecessary any discussion of the girl with
+the old man.
+
+With the patience and gentleness of a confessor John Cardigan heard the
+story now, and though Bryce gave no hint in words that his affections
+were involved in the fight for the Cardigan acres, yet did his father
+know It, for he was a parent. And his great heart went out in sympathy
+for his boy.
+
+"I understand, sonny, I understand. This young lady is only one
+additional reason why you must win, for of course you understand she is
+not indifferent to you."
+
+"I do not know that she feels for me anything stronger than a vagrant
+sympathy, Dad, for while she is eternally feminine, nevertheless she has
+a masculine way of looking at many things. She is a good comrade with
+a bully sense of sportsmanship, and unlike her skunk of an uncle, she
+fights in the open. Under the circumstances, however, her first loyalty
+is to him; in fact, she owes none to me. And I dare say he has given
+her some extremely plausible reason why we should be eliminated; while
+I think she is sorry that it must be done, nevertheless, in a mistaken
+impulse of self-protection she is likely to let him do it."
+
+"Perhaps, perhaps. One never knows why a woman does things, although it
+is a safe bet that if they're with you at all, they're with you all the
+way. Eliminate the girl, my boy. She's trying to play fair to you and
+her relative. Let us concentrate on Pennington."
+
+"The entire situation hinges on that jump-crossing of his tracks on
+Water Street."
+
+"He doesn't know you plan to cross them, does he?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then, lad, your job is to get your crossing in before he finds out,
+isn't it?"
+
+"Yes, but it is an impossible task, partner. I'm not Aladdin, you know.
+I have to have a franchise from the city council, and I have to have
+rails."
+
+"Both are procurable, my son. Induce the city council to grant you a
+temporary franchise to-morrow, and buy your rails from Pennington. He
+has a mile of track running up Laurel Creek, and Laurel Creek was logged
+out three years ago. I believe that spur is useless to Pennington, and
+the ninety-pound rails are rusting there."
+
+"But will he sell them to me?"
+
+"Not if you tell him why you want them."
+
+"But he hates me, old pal."
+
+"The Colonel never permits sentiment to interfere with business, my son.
+He doesn't need the rails, and he does desire your money. Consider the
+rail-problem settled."
+
+"How do you stand with the Mayor and the council?"
+
+"I do not stand at all. I opposed Poundstone for the office; Dobbs,
+who was appointed to fill a vacancy caused by the death of a regularly
+elected councilman, was once a bookkeeper in our office, you will
+remember. I discharged him for looting the petty-cash drawer. Andrews
+and Mullin are professional politicians and not to be trusted. In fact,
+Poundstone, Dobbs, Andrews, and Mullin are known as the Solid Four.
+Yates and Thatcher, the remaining members of the city council, are
+the result of the reform ticket last fall, but since they are in the
+minority, they are helpless."
+
+"That makes it bad."
+
+"Not at all. The Cardigans are not known to be connected with the N. C.
+O. Send your bright friend Ogilvy after that franchise. He's the only
+man who can land it. Give him a free hand and tell him to deliver the
+goods by any means short of bribery. I imagine he's had experience
+with city councils and will know exactly how to proceed. I KNOW you
+can procure the rails and have them at the intersection of B and Water
+streets Thursday night. If Ogilvy can procure the temporary franchise
+and have it in his pocket by six o'clock Thursday night, you should have
+that crossing in by sunup Friday morning. Then let Pennington rave. He
+cannot procure an injunction to restrain us from cutting his tracks,
+thus throwing the matter into the courts and holding us up indefinitely,
+because by the time he wakes up, the tracks will have been cut. The best
+he can do then will be to fight us before the city council when we apply
+for our permanent franchise. Thank God, however, the name of Cardigan
+carries weight in this county, and with the pressure of public sympathy
+and opinion back of us, we may venture, my boy, to break a lance with
+the Solid Four, should they stand with Pennington."
+
+"Partner, it looks like a forlorn hope," said Bryce.
+
+"Well, you're the boy to lead it. And it will cost but little to put
+in the crossing and take a chance. Remember, Bryce, once we have that
+crossing in, it stands like a spite-fence between Pennington and the law
+which he knows so well how to pervert to suit his ignoble purposes." He
+turned earnestly to Bryce and waved a trembling admonitory finger. "Your
+job is to keep out of court. Once Pennington gets the law on us,
+the issue will not be settled in our favour for years; and in the
+meantime--you perish. Run along now and hunt up Ogilvy. George, play
+that 'Suwannee River' quartet again. It sort o' soothes me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+It was with a considerably lighter heart that Bryce returned to the
+mill-office, from which he lost no time in summoning Buck Ogilvy by
+telephone.
+
+"Thanks so much for the invitation," Ogilvy murmured gratefully. "I'll
+be down in a pig's whisper." And he was. "Bryce, you look like the
+devil," he declared the moment he entered the latter's private office.
+
+"I ought to, Buck. I've just raised the devil and spilled the beans on
+the N. C. O."
+
+"To whom, when, and where?"
+
+"To Pennington's niece, over the telephone about two hours ago."
+
+Buck Ogilvy smote his left palm with his right fist. "And you've waited
+two hours to confess your crime? Zounds, man, this is bad."
+
+"I know. Curse me, Buck. I've probably talked you out of a good job."
+
+"Oh, say not so, old settler. We may still have an out. How did you let
+the cat out of the bag?"
+
+"That remarkable girl called me up, and accused you of being a mere
+screen for me and amazed me so I admitted it."
+
+Ogilvy dropped his red head in simulated agony and moaned. Presently he
+raised it and said: "Well, it might have been worse. Think of what
+might have happened had she called in person. She would have picked your
+pocket for the corporate seal, the combination of the safe, and the list
+of stockholders, and probably ended up by gagging you and binding you in
+your own swivel-chair."
+
+"Don't, Buck. Comfort and not abuse is what I need now."
+
+"All right. I'll conclude my remarks by stating that I regard you as
+a lovable fat-head devoid of sufficient mental energy to pound the
+proverbial sand into the proverbial rat-hole. Now, then, what do you
+want me to do to save the day?"
+
+"Deliver to me by six o'clock Thursday night a temporary franchise from
+the city council, granting the N. C. O. the right to run a railroad from
+our drying-yard across Water Street at its intersection with B Street
+and out Front Street."
+
+"Certainly. By all means! Easiest thing I do! Sure you don't want me to
+arrange to borrow a star or two to make a ta-ra-ra for the lady that's
+made a monkey out of you? No? All right, old dear! I'm on my way to
+do my damnedest, which angels can't do no more. Nevertheless, for your
+sins, you shall do me a favour before my heart breaks after falling down
+on this contract you've just given me."
+
+"Granted, Buck. Name it."
+
+"I'm giving a nice little private, specially cooked dinner to Miss
+McTavish to-night. We're going to pull it off in one of those private
+screened corrals in that highly decorated Chink restauraw on Third
+Street. Moira--that is, Miss McTavish--is bringing a chaperon, one Miss
+Shirley Sumner. Your job is to be my chaperon and entertain Miss Sumner,
+who from all accounts is most brilliant and fascinating."
+
+"Nothing doing!" Bryce almost roared. "Why, she's the girl that bluffed
+the secret of the N. C. O. out of me!"
+
+"Do you hate her for it?"
+
+"No, I hate myself."
+
+"Then you'll come. You promised in advance, and no excuses go now. The
+news will be all over town by Friday morning; so why bother to keep up
+appearances any longer. Meet me at the Canton at seven and check dull
+care at the entrance."
+
+And before Bryce could protest, Ogilvy had thrown open the office door
+and called the glad tidings to Moira, who was working in the next room;
+whereupon Moira's wonderful eyes shone with that strange lambent flame.
+She clasped her hands joyously. "Oh, how wonderful!" she exclaimed "I've
+always wanted Miss Shirley to meet Mr. Bryce."
+
+Again Bryce was moved to protest, but Buck Ogilvy reached around the
+half-opened door and kicked him in the shins. "Don't crab my game, you
+miserable snarley-yow. Detract one speck from that girl's pleasure, and
+you'll never see that temporary franchise," he threatened. "I will not
+work for a quitter--so, there!" And with his bright smile he set out
+immediately upon the trail of the city council, leaving Bryce Cardigan
+a prey to many conflicting emotions, the chief of which, for all that
+he strove to suppress it, was riotous joy in the knowledge that while he
+had fought against it, fate had decreed that he should bask once more in
+the radiance of Shirley Sumner's adorable presence. Presently, for
+the first time in many weeks, Moira heard him whistling "Turkey in the
+Straw."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+Fortunately for the situation which had so suddenly confronted him,
+Bryce Cardigan had Mr. Buck Ogilvy; and out of the experiences gained
+in other railroad-building enterprises, the said Ogilvy, while startled,
+was not stunned by the suddenness and immensity of the order so casually
+given him by his youthful employer, for he had already devoted to the
+matter of that crossing the better part of the preceding night. Also
+he had investigated, indexed, and cross-indexed the city council with a
+view to ascertaining how great or how little would be the effort he must
+devote to obtaining from it the coveted franchise.
+
+"Got to run a sandy on the Mayor," Buck soliloquized as he walked
+rapidly uptown. "And I'll have to be mighty slick about it, too, or I'll
+get my fingers in the jam. If I get the Mayor on my side--if I get him
+to the point where he thinks well of me and would like to oblige me
+without prejudicing himself financially or politically--I can get that
+temporary franchise. Now, how shall I proceed to sneak up on that oily
+old cuss's blind side?"
+
+Two blocks farther on, Mr. Ogilvy paused and snapped his fingers
+vigorously. "Eureka!" he murmured. "I've got Poundstone by the tail on a
+downhill haul. Is it a cinch? Well, I just guess I should tell a man!"
+
+He hurried to the telephone building and put in a long-distance call for
+the San Francisco office of the Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company. When
+the manager came on the line, Ogilvy dictated to him a message which he
+instructed the manager to telegraph back to him at the Hotel Sequoia one
+hour later; this mysterious detail attended to, he continued on to the
+Mayor's office in the city hall.
+
+Mayor Poundstone's bushy eyebrows arched with interest when his
+secretary laid upon his desk the card of Mr. Buchanan Ogilvy,
+vice-president and general manager of the Northern California Oregon
+Railroad. "Ah-h-h!" he breathed with an unpleasant resemblance to a bon
+vivant who sees before him his favourite vintage. "I have been expecting
+Mr. Ogilvy to call for quite a while. At last we shall see what we shall
+see. Show him in."
+
+The visitor was accordingly admitted to the great man's presence and
+favoured with an official handshake of great heartiness. "I've been
+hoping to have this pleasure for quite some time, Mr. Poundstone," Buck
+announced easily as he disposed of his hat and overcoat on an adjacent
+chair. "But unfortunately I have had so much preliminary detail to
+attend to before making an official call that at last I grew discouraged
+and concluded I'd just drop in informally and get acquainted." Buck's
+alert blue eyes opened wide in sympathy with his genial mouth, to
+deluge Mayor Poundstone with a smile that was friendly, guileless,
+confidential, and singularly delightful. Mr. Ogilvy was a man possessed
+of tremendous personal magnetism when he chose to exert it, and that
+smile was ever the opening gun of his magnetic bombardment, for it was a
+smile that always had the effect of making the observer desire to behold
+it again--of disarming suspicion and establishing confidence.
+
+"Glad you did--mighty glad," the Mayor cried heartily. "We have all, of
+course, heard of your great plans and are naturally anxious to hear
+more of them, in the hope that we can do all that anybody reasonably and
+legally can to promote your enterprise and incidentally our own, since
+we are not insensible to the advantages which will accrue to this county
+when it is connected by rail with the outside world."
+
+"That extremely broad view is most encouraging," Buck chirped, and he
+showered the Mayor with another smile. "Reciprocity is the watchword of
+progress. I might state, however, that while you Humboldters are fully
+alive to the benefits to be derived from a feeder to a transcontinental
+road, my associates and myself are not insensible of the fact that the
+success of our enterprise depends to a great extent upon the enthusiasm
+with which the city of Sequoia shall cooperate with us; and since you
+are the chief executive of the city, naturally I have come to you to
+explain our plans fully."
+
+"I have read your articles of incorporation, Mr. Ogilvy," Mayor
+Poundstone boomed paternally. "You will recall that they were published
+in the Sequoia SENTINEL. It strikes me---"
+
+"Then you know exactly what we purpose doing, and any further
+explanation would be superfluous," Buck interrupted amiably, glad to
+dispose of the matter so promptly. Again he favoured the Mayor with his
+bright smile, and the latter, now fully convinced that here was a young
+man of vast emprise whom it behooved him to receive in a whole-hearted
+and public-spirited manner, nodded vigorous approval.
+
+"Well, that being the case, Mr. Ogilvy," he continued, "what can we
+Sequoians do to make you happy?"
+
+"Why, to begin with, Mr. Poundstone, you might accept my solemn
+assurances that despite the skepticism which, for some unknown reason,
+appears to shroud our enterprise in the minds of some people, we have
+incorporated a railroad company for the purpose of building a railroad.
+We purpose commencing grading operations in the very near future, and
+the only thing that can possibly interfere with the project will be the
+declination of the city council to grant us a franchise to run our line
+through the city to tidewater."
+
+He handed his cigar-case to Mayor Poundstone and continued lightly: "And
+I am glad to have your assurance that the city council will not drop a
+cold chisel in the cogs of the wheels of progress."
+
+Mr. Poundstone had given no such assurance, but for some reason he did
+not feel equal to the task of contradicting this pleasant fellow. Ogilvy
+continued: "At the proper time we shall apply for the franchise. It will
+then be time enough to discuss it. In the meantime the N. C. O. plans a
+public dedicatory ceremony at the first breaking of ground, and I would
+be greatly honoured, Mr. Mayor, if you would consent to turn the
+first shovelful of earth and deliver the address of welcome upon that
+occasion."
+
+The Mayor swelled like a Thanksgiving turkey. "The honour will be mine,"
+he corrected his visitor.
+
+"Thank you so much, sir. Well, that's another worry off my mind." With
+the tact of a prime minister Buck then proceeded deliberately to shift
+the conversation to the weather and asked a number of questions anent
+the annual rainfall. Then he turned to crops, finance, and national
+politics and gradually veered around to an artistic word-picture of
+the vast expansion of the redwood-lumber industry when the redwood-belt
+should be connected by rail with the markets of the entire country. He
+spoke of the magic effect the building of such a line would have upon
+the growth of Sequoia. Sequoia, he felt convinced, was destined to
+become a city of at least a hundred thousand inhabitants; he rhapsodized
+over the progressive spirit of the community and with a wave of his
+hand studded the waters of Humboldt Bay with the masts of the world's
+shipping. Suddenly he checked himself, glanced at his watch, apologized
+for consuming so much of His Honour's valuable time, expressed himself
+felicitated at knowing the Mayor, gracefully expressed his appreciation
+for the encouragement given his enterprise, and departed. When he had
+gone, Mayor Poundstone declared to his secretary that without doubt
+Ogilvy was the livest, keenest fellow that had struck Sequoia since the
+advent of old John Cardigan.
+
+Half an hour later the Mayor's telephone-bell rang. Buck Ogilvy was on
+the line. "I beg your pardon for bothering you with my affairs twice in
+the same day, Mr. Mayor," he announced deprecatingly, "but the fact is,
+a condition has just arisen which necessitates the immediate employment
+of an attorney. The job is not a very important one and almost any
+lawyer would do, but in view of the fact that we must, sooner or later,
+employ an attorney to look after our interests locally, it occurred to
+me that I might as well make the selection of a permanent attorney now.
+I am a stranger in this city Mr. Poundstone. Would it be imposing on
+your consideration if I asked you to recommend such a person?"
+
+"Why, not at all, not at all! Delighted to help you, Mr. Ogilvy. Let me
+see, now. There are several attorneys in Sequoia, all men of excellent
+ability and unimpeachable integrity, whom I can recommend with the
+utmost pleasure. Cadman look up the relatives of a public official!
+Well! Forward, men, follow me--to Henry's office."
+
+Henry Poundstone, Junior, proved to be the sole inhabitant of one rather
+bare office in the Cardigan Block. Buck had fully resolved to give him
+a retainer of a thousand dollars, or even more, if he asked for it,
+but after one look at Henry he cut the appropriation to two hundred and
+fifty dollars. Young Mr. Poundstone was blonde and frail, with large
+round spectacles, rabbit teeth, and the swiftly receding chin of the
+terrapin. Moreover, he was in such a flutter of anticipation over the
+arrival of his client that Buck deduced two things--to wit, that the
+Mayor had telephoned Henry he was apt to have a client, and that as a
+result of this miracle, Henry was in no fit state to discuss the sordid
+subject of fees and retainers. Ergo, Mr. Ogilvy decided to obviate such
+discussion now or in the future. He handed Henry a check for two hundred
+and fifty dollars, which he wrote out on the spot, and with his bright
+winning smile remarked: "Now, Mr. Poundstone, we will proceed to
+business. That retainer isn't a large one, I admit, but neither is the
+job I have for you to-day. Later, if need of your services on a
+larger scale should develop, we shall of course expect to make a new
+arrangement whereby you will receive the customary retainer of all of
+our corporation attorneys I trust that is quite satisfactory."
+
+"Eminently so," gasped the young disciple of Blackstone.
+
+"Very well, then; let us proceed to business." Buck removed from a
+small leather bag a bale of legal-looking documents. "I have here," he
+announced, "agreements from landowners along the proposed right of way
+of the N. C. O. to give to that company, on demand, within one year
+from date, satisfactory deeds covering rights of way which are minutely
+described in the said agreements. I wish these deeds prepared for
+signing and recording at the earliest possible moment."
+
+"You shall have them at this time to-morrow," Henry promised.
+
+The head of Henry Poundstone, Junior, was held high for the first time
+since he had flung forth his modest shingle to the breezes of Sequoia
+six months before, and there was an unaccustomed gleam of importance in
+his pale eyes as he rushed into big father's office in the city hall.
+
+"By jinks, Dad!" he exulted. "I've hooked a fish at last--and he's a
+whopper."
+
+"Omit the cheers, my boy. Remember I sent that fish to you," his father
+answered with a bland and indulgent smile. "What are you doing for
+Ogilvy, and how large a retainer did he give you?"
+
+"I'm making out deeds to his rights of way. Ordinarily it's about a
+fifty-dollar job, but without waiting to discuss finances he handed me
+out two hundred and fifty dollars. Why, Dad, that's more than you make
+in a month from your job as Mayor."
+
+"Well, that isn't a bad retainer. It's an opening wedge. However, it
+would be mere chicken-feed in San Francisco."
+
+"Read this," Henry urged, and thrust a yellow telegraph-form under the
+Mayor's nose. The latter adjusted his glasses and read:
+
+Imperative building operations commence immediately. Local skepticism
+injurious and delays dangerous. We must show good faith to our New York
+friends. J. P. M. insists upon knowing promptly where we stand with
+Sequoia city council. See them immediately and secure temporary
+franchise, if possible, to enable us to cross Water Street at B Street
+and build out Front Street. Your arrangement with Cardigan for use of
+his mill-dock and spur for unloading material from steamer ratified by
+board but regarded as hold-up. If your judgment indicates no hold-up
+on permanent franchise, commence active operations immediately upon
+acquisition of permanent franchise. Engage local labour as far as
+possible. Cannot impress upon you too fully necessity for getting busy,
+as road must be completed in three years if our plans are to bear fruit
+and time is all too short. Impress this upon city council and wire
+answer to-morrow.
+
+HOCKLEY.
+
+This telegram, as the Mayor observed, was dated that day and addressed
+to Mr. Buchanan Ogilvy, Hotel Sequoia, Sequoia, Calif. Also, with a keen
+eye to minor details, lie noted that it had been filed at San Francisco
+SUBSEQUENT to Ogilvy's visit to him that afternoon.
+
+"Ah-h-h!" breathed His Honour. "That accounts for his failure to bring
+the matter up at our interview. Upon his return to the hotel he
+found this telegram and got busy at once. By Jupiter, this looks like
+business. Henry, how did you come into possession of this telegram?"
+
+"It must have been mixed up in the documents Ogilvy left with me.
+I found it on my desk when I was sorting out the papers, and in my
+capacity of attorney for the N.C.O. I had no hesitancy in reading it."
+
+"Well, I do declare! Wonder who Hockley is. Never heard of that fellow
+in connection with the N.C.O."
+
+"Hockley doesn't matter," young Henry declared triumphantly, "although
+I'd bet a hat he's one of those heavy-weight Wall Street fellows and
+one of J.P.M's vice-presidents, probably. J.P.M., of course, is the man
+behind."
+
+"Who the devil is J.P.M.?"
+
+Henry smiled tolerantly upon his ignorant and guileless parent. "Well,
+how would J. Pierpont Morgan do for a guess?" he queried.
+
+"Hell's bells and panther-tracks!" Mayor Poundstone started as if
+snake-bitten. "I should say you have hooked a big fish. Boy, you've
+landed a whale!" And the Mayor whistled softly in his amazement
+and delight. "By golly, to think of you getting in with that bunch!
+Tremendyous! Per-fect-ly tree-mend-yous! Did Ogilvy say anything about
+future business?"
+
+"He did. Said if I proved satisfactory, he would probably take me on and
+pay the customary retainer given all of their corporation attorneys."
+
+"Well, by golly, he'd better take you on! I had a notion that chap
+Ogilvy was smart enough to know which side his bread is buttered on and
+who does the buttering."
+
+"If I could guarantee Mr. Ogilvy that temporary franchise mentioned
+in his telegram, it might help me to get in right with J.P.M, at the
+start," his hopeful suggested. "I guess it would be kind of poor to
+be taken on as one of the regular staff of attorneys for a Morgan
+corporation, eh? Say, they pay those chaps as high as fifty thousand
+dollars a year retainer!"
+
+"Guarantee it!" his father shouted. "Guarantee it! Well, I should
+snicker! We'll just show J. P. M. and his crowd that they made no
+mistake when they picked you as their Sequoia legal representative. I'll
+call a special meeting of that little old city council of mine and jam
+that temporary franchise through while you'd be saying 'Jack Robinson!'"
+
+"I'll tell you what let's do," Henry suggested. "I'll draw up the
+temporary franchise to-night, and we'll put it through to-morrow at,
+say, ten o'clock without saying a word to Mr. Ogilvy about it. Then when
+the city clerk has signed and attested it and put the seal of the city
+on it, I'll just casually take it over to Mr. Ogilvy. Of course he'll be
+surprised and ask me how I came to get it, and--"
+
+"And you LOOK surprised," his father cautioned, "--sort of as if you
+failed to comprehend what he's driving at. Make him repeat. Then you
+say: 'Oh, that! Why, that's nothing, Mr. Ogilvy. I found the telegram
+in those papers you left with me, read it, and concluded you'd left it
+there to give me the dope so I could go ahead and get the franchise for
+you. Up here, whenever anybody wants a franchise from the city, they
+always hire an attorney to get it for them, so I didn't think anything
+about this but just naturally went and got it for you. If it ain't
+right, why, say so and I'll have it made right.'" Old Poundstone nudged
+his son in the short ribs and winked drolly. "Let him get the idea
+you're a fly bird and on to your job."
+
+"Leave it to yours truly," said Henry.
+
+His father carefully made a copy of the telegram.
+
+"H'm!" he grunted. "Wants to cross Water Street at B and build out
+Front Street. Well, I dare say nobody will kick over the traces at that.
+Nothing but warehouses and lumber-drying yards along there, anyhow.
+Still, come to think of it, Pennington will probably raise a howl about
+sparks from the engines of the N. C. O. setting his lumber piles afire.
+And he won't relish the idea of that crossing, because that means a
+watchman and safety-gates, and he'll have to stand half the cost of
+that."
+
+"He'll be dead against it," Henry declared. "I know, because at the
+Wednesday meeting of the Lumber Manufacturers' Association the subject
+of the N. C. O. came up, and Pennington made a talk against it. He said
+the N. C. O. ought to be discouraged, if it was a legitimate enterprise,
+which he doubted, because the most feasible and natural route for a road
+would be from Willits, Mendocino County, north to Sequoia. He said the
+N. C. O. didn't tap the main body of the redwood-belt and that his own
+road could be extended to act as a feeder to a line that would build in
+from the south. I tell you he's dead set against it."
+
+"Then we won't tell him anything about it, Henry. We'll just pull off
+this special session of the council and forget to invite the reporters;
+after the job has been put over, Pennington can come around and howl
+all he wants. We're not letting a chance like this slip by us without
+grabbing a handful of the tail-feathers, Henry. No, sir--not if we know
+it."
+
+"You bet!" said Henry earnestly.
+
+And it was even so. The entire council was present with the exception
+of Thatcher, who was home ill. His running mate Yates was heartily
+in favour of doing all and sundry of those things which would aid and
+encourage the building of the much-to-be-desired railroad and offered
+no objection to the motion to grant a sixty-day temporary franchise.
+However, he always played ball with the absent Thatcher and he was
+fairly well acquainted with his other colleagues on the council; where
+they were concerned he was as suspicious as a rattlesnake in August--in
+consequence of which he considered it policy to play safe pending
+Thatcher's recovery. Rising in his place, he pointed out to the board
+the fact that many prominent citizens who yearned for such a road as
+the N. C. O. had warned him of the danger of lending official aid and
+comfort to a passel of professional promoters and fly-by-nights;
+that after all, the N. C. O. might merely be the stalking-horse to a
+real-estate boom planned to unload the undesirable timber holdings of
+the Trinidad Redwood Lumber Company, in which event it might be well for
+the council to proceed with caution. It was Mr. Yates' opinion that for
+the present a temporary franchise for thirty days only should be given;
+if during that thirty days the N. C. O. exhibited indubitable signs of
+activity, he would gladly vote for a thirty-day extension to enable the
+matter of a permanent franchise to be taken up in regular order.
+
+This amendment to the original motion met with the unqualified approval
+of the Mayor, as he was careful to announce for the benefit of the other
+members of the Solid Four. The fact of the matter was, however, that
+he was afraid to oppose Yates in such a simple matter through fear that
+Yates might grow cantankerous and carry his troubles to the Sequoia
+Sentinel--a base trick he had been known to do in the past. After
+explaining the advisability of keeping secret for the present the fact
+that a thirty-day franchise had been granted, His Honour, with the
+consent of the maker of the original motion and the second thereof,
+submitted the amended motion to a vote, which was carried unanimously.
+
+At eleven-thirty Thursday morning, therefore, young Henry Poundstone,
+having worked the greater part of the previous night preparing the
+deeds, delivered both deeds and franchise to Buck Ogilvy at the
+latter's hotel. It was with difficulty that the latter could conceal his
+tremendous amazement when Henry casually handed him the franchise. True,
+he had slipped that fake telegram among the contracts as bait for Henry
+and his father, but in his wildest flights of fancy had not looked for
+them to swallow hook, line, and sinker. His fondest hope, at the time he
+conceived the brilliant idea, was that Henry would show the telegram to
+his father and thus inculcate in the old gentleman a friendly feeling
+toward the N. C. O. not unmixed with pleasurable anticipations of the
+day when Henry Poundstone, Junior, should be one of the most highly
+prized members of the legal staff of a public-service corporation.
+
+When he could control his emotions, Mr. Ogilvy gazed approvingly upon
+Henry Poundstone. "Mr. Poundstone," he said solemnly, "I have met some
+meteoric young attorneys in my day, but you're the first genuine comet I
+have seen in the legal firmament. Do you mind telling me exactly how you
+procured this franchise--and why you procured it without explicit orders
+from me?"
+
+Henry did his best to look puzzled. "Why," he said, "you left
+that telegram with me, and I concluded that you regarded it as
+self-explanatory or else had forgotten to mention it. I knew you were
+busy, and I didn't want to bother you with details, so I just went ahead
+and filled the order for you. Anything wrong about that?"
+
+"Certainly not. It's perfectly wonderful. But how did you put it over?"
+
+Henry smirked. "My dad's the engineer," he said bluntly. "If thirty days
+ain't enough time, see me and I'll get you thirty days more. And in the
+meantime nobody knows a thing about this little deal. What's more, they
+won't know. I figured Colonel Pennington might try to block you at that
+crossing so I--"
+
+Buck Ogilvy extended his hand in benediction and let it drop lightly on
+Henry Poundstone's thin shoulder. Henry quivered with anticipation under
+that gentle accolade and swallowed his heart while the great Ogilvy made
+a portentous announcement.
+
+"My dear Poundstone," he said earnestly, "I am not a man to forget
+clever work. At the proper time I shall--" He smiled his radiant smile.
+"You understand, of course, that I am speaking for and can make you no
+firm promises. However--" He smiled again. "All I have to say is that
+you'll do!"
+
+"Thank you," said Henry Poundstone, Junior. "Thank you ever so much."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+An experience extending over a very active business career of thirty
+years had convinced Colonel Seth Pennington of the futility of wracking
+his brains in vain speculation over mysteries. In his day he had
+been interested in some small public-service corporations, which is
+tantamount to saying that he knew peanut politics and had learned that
+the very best way to fight the devil is with fire. Frequently he had
+found it of great interest and profit to him to know exactly how certain
+men spent their time and his money, and since he was a very busy man
+himself, naturally he had to delegate somebody else, to procure this
+information for him. When, therefore, the Northern California Oregon
+Railroad commenced to encroach on the Colonel's time-appropriation for
+sleep, he realized that there was but one way in which to conserve his
+rest and that was by engaging to fathom the mystery for him a specialist
+in the unravelling of mysteries. In times gone by, the Colonel had
+found a certain national detective-agency an extremely efficient aid to
+well-known commercial agencies, and to these tried and true subordinates
+he turned now for explicit and satisfying information anent the Northern
+California Outrage!
+
+The information forthcoming from Dun's and Bradstreet's was vague and
+unsatisfying. Neither of these two commercial agencies could ascertain
+anything of interest regarding the finances of the N. C. O. For the
+present the corporation had no office, its destinies in San Francisco
+being guarded by a well-known attorney who had declined to make any
+statement regarding the company but promised one at an early date. The
+board of directors consisted of this attorney, his two assistants, his
+stenographer, and Mr. Buchanan Ogilvy. The company had been incorporated
+for five million dollars, divided into five million shares of par value
+of one dollar each, and five shares had been subscribed! Both agencies
+forwarded copies of the articles of incorporation, but since the Colonel
+had already read this document in the Sequoia Sentinel, he was not
+further interested.
+
+"It looks fishy to me," the Colonel commented to his manager, "and I'm
+more than ever convinced it's a scheme of that Trinidad Redwood Timber
+Company to start a timber-boom and unload. And that is something the
+Laguna Grande Lumber Company does not view with favour, for the reason
+that one of these bright days those Trinidad people will come to their
+senses and sell cheap to us. A slight extension of our logging-road
+will make that Trinidad timber accessible; hence we are the only logical
+customers and should control the situation. However, to be sure is to
+be satisfied. Telephone the San Francisco office to have the
+detective-agency that handled the longshoremen's strike job for us
+send a couple of their best operatives up on the next steamer, with
+instructions to report to me on arrival."
+
+When the operatives reported, the Colonel's orders were brief and
+explicit. "I want to know all about a man named Buchanan Ogilvy, who is
+up north somewhere procuring rights of way for the Northern California
+Oregon Railroad. Find him. Get up with him in the morning and put him to
+bed at night. Report to me daily."
+
+Buck was readily located in the country north of Arcata, and one of the
+operatives actually procured a job as chainman with his surveying gang,
+while the other kept Ogilvy and his secretary under surveillance. Their
+reports, however, yielded the Colonel nothing until the first day of
+Buck's return to Sequoia, when the following written report caused the
+Colonel to sit up and take notice. It was headed: "Report of Operative
+No. 41," and it read:
+
+Ogilvy in his room until 12 o'clock noon. At 12:05 entered dining room,
+leaving at 1 P. M. and proceeding direct to office of Cardigan Redwood
+Lumber Company. Operative took post behind a lumber-pile at side of
+office so as to command view of interior of office. From manner of
+greeting accorded Ogilvy by Bryce Cardigan, operative is of opinion they
+had not met before. Ogilvy remained in Cardigan's private office half
+an hour, spent another half-hour conversing with young lady in general
+office. Young lady a brunette. O. then returned to Hotel Sequoia,
+where he wrote several letters in writing-room. At 3 p. M. called to
+telephone. At 3:02 p. M. left hurriedly for Cardigan Redwood Lumber
+Company's office. Entered private office without waiting to be
+announced. Emerged at 3:12, walking slowly and in deep thought. At B and
+Cedar streets stopped suddenly, snapped his fingers and started walking
+rapidly, in the manner of one who has arrived at a decision. At
+3:24 entered the telephone building and placed a long-distance call.
+Operative standing at counter close by heard him place call with the
+girl on duty. He asked for the Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company in San
+Francisco.
+
+Concluded his conversation at 3:32 and proceeded to the city hall,
+entering the Mayor's office at 3:43 and emerging at 4:10. He then
+returned to the Hotel Sequoia and sat in the lobby until handed a
+telegram at 4:40; whereupon he entered the telephone-booth and talked
+to someone, emerging at 4:43 to go to his room. He returned at 4:46 and
+hurried to the law-office of Henry Poundstone, Junior, in the Cardigan
+Block. He was with Poundstone until 4:59, when he returned leisurely to
+the Hotel Sequoia, carrying a small leather grip. He also had this grip
+when he entered Poundstone's office.
+
+Arrived at the hotel at 5:03 and went to his room. At 6:45 he entered
+a public automobile in front of the hotel and was driven to No. 846 Elm
+Street. The brunette young lady who works m the Cardigan Redwood Lumber
+Company's office emerged presently and entered the car, which then
+proceeded to No. 38 Redwood Boulevard, where the brunette young lady
+alighted and entered the house. She returned at 7 sharp, accompanied by
+a young lady whom she introduced to O. All three were then driven to the
+Canyon restaurant at 432 Third Street and escorted to a reserved table
+in one of the screened-off semi-private rooms along the right side of
+the dining room. At 7:15 Bryce Cardigan entered the restaurant and was
+escorted by the waiter to the table occupied by O. and party.
+
+At 9:30 entire party left restaurant and entered a Napier car driven by
+a half-breed Indian whom the second young lady hailed as George. O. and
+the brunette young lady were dropped at 846 Elm Street while Cardigan
+and the other young lady proceeded directly to No. 38 Redwood Boulevard.
+After aiding the lady to alight, Cardigan talked with her a few minutes
+at the gate, then bade her good-night and after waiting until she had
+disappeared inside the front door, returned to the automobile and was
+driven to his home, while the chauffeur George ran the car into the
+Cardigan garage.
+
+Upon returning to Hotel Sequoia, found O. in hotel bar. Saw him to bed
+at 10 sharp.
+
+Needless to relate, this report had a most amazing effect upon Colonel
+Pennington, and when at length he could recover his mental equilibrium,
+he set about quite calmly to analyze the report, word by word and
+sentence by sentence, with the result that he promptly arrived at the
+following conclusion:
+
+(1) His niece Shirley Sumner was not to be trusted in so far as young
+Bryce Cardigan was concerned. Despite her assumption of hostility toward
+the fellow since that memorable day in Pennington's woods, the Colonel
+was now fully convinced that she had made her peace with him and had
+been the recipient of his secret attentions right along. The Colonel was
+on the verge of calling his niece up to demand an explanation, but on
+second thought decided to wait a few days and see what his gum-shoe men
+might have to report further.
+
+(2) The N. C. O. was still a mystery, but a mystery in which Bryce
+Cardigan was interested. Moreover, he was anxious to aid the N. C. O. in
+every way possible. However, the Colonel could understand this. Cardigan
+would aid anything that might possibly tend to lift the Cardigan lumber
+interests out from under the iron heel of Colonel Pennington and he
+was just young enough and unsophisticated enough to be fooled by that
+Trinidad Redwood Timber gang.
+
+(3) The N. C. O. was going to make a mighty bluff, even to the extent of
+applying for a franchise to run over the city streets of Sequoia. Hence
+Ogilvy's visit to Mayor Poundstone--doubtless on the advice of Bryce
+Cardigan. Hence, also, his visit to young Henry Poundstone, whom he had
+doubtless engaged as his legal representative in order to ingratiate
+himself with the young man's father. Coarse work!
+
+(4) Ogilvy had carried a small leather bag to and from Henry
+Poundstone's office. That bag was readily explained. It had contained a
+bribe in gold coin and young Henry had been selected as the
+go-between. That meant that Mayor Poundstone had agreed to deliver the
+franchise--for a consideration; and like the smooth scoundrel he was, he
+wanted his bit in gold coin, which could not be marked without the marks
+being discovered! Ogilvy had called first on the Mayor to arrange
+the details; then he had called on the Mayor's son to complete the
+transaction.
+
+(5) If a franchise had been arranged for and the bribe already
+delivered, that meant the prompt and unadvertised commencement of
+operations. Where (the Colonel asked himself) would these operations
+begin? Why, close to the waterfront, where materials could be landed
+from the steamer that brought them to Sequoia. At whose mill-dock would
+those materials be discharged? Why, Cardigan's dock, of course. Ogilvy
+had probably called first on Cardigan to arrange that detail. Yes,
+the N. C. O. was going to carry its monumental bluff to the point of
+building a mile of track through town. ... No--no, they wouldn't spend
+that much money on a bluff; they wouldn't bribe Poundstone unless the
+road was meant. And was it a common carrier, after all? Had Cardigan in
+some mysterious manner managed to borrow enough money to parallel the
+Laguna Grande Lumber Company's logging-road, and was he disguising it as
+a common carrier?
+
+The trail was growing hot; the Colonel mopped his brow and concentrated
+further. If the N. C. O. was really going to start operations, in order
+to move its material from the Cardigan dock to the scene of operations
+it would have to cut his (the Colonel's) tracks somewhere on Water
+Street. Damnation! That was it. They were trying to slip one over on
+him. They were planning to get a jump-crossing in before he should awake
+to the situation; they were planning, too, to have the city council slip
+through the franchise when nobody was looking, and once the crossing
+should be in, they could laugh at Colonel Pennington!
+
+"The scoundrels!" he murmured. "I'm on to them! Cardigan is playing the
+game with them. That's why he bought those rails from the old Laurel
+Creek spur! Oh, the sly young fox--quoting that portion of our hauling
+contract which stipulates that all spurs and extensions of my road, once
+it enters Cardigan's lands, must be made at Cardigan's expense! And all
+to fool me into thinking he wanted those rails for an extension of his
+logging-system. Oh, what a blithering idiot I have been! However, it's
+not too late yet. Poundstone is coming over to dinner Thursday night,
+and I'll wring the swine dry before he leaves the house. And as for
+those rails Cardigan managed to hornswoggle me out of--"
+
+He seized the telephone and fairly shouted to his exchange operator to
+get his woods-foreman Jules Rondeau on the line.
+
+"That you, Rondeau?" he shouted when the big French Canadian responded.
+"Pennington talking. What has young Cardigan done about those rails I
+sold him from the abandoned spur up Laurel Creek?"
+
+"He have two flat-cars upon ze spur now. Dose woods-gang of hees she
+tear up dose rails from ze head of ze spur and load in ze flat-cars."
+
+"The ears haven't left the Laurel Creek spur, then?"
+
+"No, she don't leave yet."
+
+"See to it, Rondeau, that they do not leave until I give the word.
+Understand? Cardigan's woods-boss will call you up and ask you to send
+a switch-engine tip to snake them out late this afternoon or to-morrow
+afternoon. Tell him the switch-engine is in the shop for repairs or
+is busy at other work--anything that will stall him off and delay
+delivery."
+
+"Suppose Bryce Cardigan, he comes around and say 'Why?'" Rondeau queried
+cautiously.
+
+"Kill him," the Colonel retorted coolly. "It strikes me you and the
+Black Minorca are rather slow playing even with young Cardigan."
+
+Rondeau grunted. "I theenk mebbe so you kill heem yourself, boss," he
+replied enigmatically, and hung up.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+The dictograph which Shirley had asked Bryce to obtain for her in San
+Francisco arrived on the regular passenger-steamer on Thursday morning
+and Bryce called her up to ask when she desired it sent over.
+
+"Good morning, Mr. Cardigan," she greeted him cheerily. "How do you feel
+this morning? Any the worse for having permitted yourself to be a human
+being last night?"
+
+"Why, I feel pretty fine, Shirley. I think it did me a lot of good to
+crawl out of my shell last night."
+
+"You feel encouraged to go on living, eh?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And fighting?"
+
+"By all means."
+
+"Then, something has occurred of late to give you new courage?"
+
+"Oh, many things. Didn't I give an exhibition of my courage in accepting
+Ogilvy's invitation to dinner, knowing you were going to be there?"
+
+She did not like that. "You carry your frankness to extremes, my
+friend," she retorted. "I'm sure I've always been much nicer to you than
+you deserve."
+
+"Nevertheless there wasn't any valid reason why I should tantalize
+myself last night."
+
+"Then why did you come?" He had a suspicion that she was laughing
+silently at him.
+
+"Partly to please Ogilvy, who has fallen head over heels in love with
+Moira; partly to please Moira, who wanted me to meet you, but mostly to
+please myself, because, while I dreaded it, nevertheless I wanted to
+see you again. I comforted myself with the thought that for the sake of
+appearances we dared not quarrel in the presence of Moira and my friend
+Ogilvy, and I dare say you felt the same way. At any rate, I have seldom
+had more enjoyment when partaking of a meal with an enemy."
+
+"Please do not say that," she answered. "I am your opponent, but not
+your enemy."
+
+"That's nice of you. By the way, Shirley, you may inform your uncle at
+breakfast Friday morning about my connection with the N. C. O. In fact,
+I think it would be far better for you if you made it a point to do so."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because both Ogilvy and myself have a very strong suspicion that your
+uncle has a detective or two on our trails. There was a strange man
+rather prevalent around him all day yesterday and I noticed a fellow
+following my car last night. He was on a bicycle and followed me home.
+I communicated my suspicions to Ogilvy, and this morning he spent two
+hours trying to shake the same man off his trail--and couldn't. So I
+judge your uncle will learn to-day that you dined with Ogilvy, Moira,
+and me last night."
+
+"Oh, dear! That's terrible." He could sense her distress.
+
+"Ashamed of having been seen in my company, eh?"
+
+"Please don't. Are you quite serious in this matter?"
+
+"Quite."
+
+"Uncle Seth will think it so--so strange."
+
+"He'll probably tell you about it. Better beat him to the issue by
+'fessing up, Shirley. Doubtless his suspicions are already aroused, and
+if you inform him that you know I am the real builder of the N. C. O.,
+he'll think you're a smart woman and that you've been doing a little
+private gum-shoe work of your own on behalf of the Laguna Grande Lumber
+Company."
+
+"Which is exactly what I have been doing," she reminded him.
+
+"I know. But then, I'm not afraid of you, Shirley--that is, any more.
+And after Friday morning I'll not be afraid of your uncle. Do tell him
+at breakfast. Then watch to see if it affects his appetite."
+
+"Oh, dear! I feel as if I were a conspirator."
+
+"I believe you are one. Your dictograph has arrived. Shall I send George
+Sea Otter over with it? And have you somebody to install it?"
+
+"Oh, bother! Does it have to be installed?"
+
+"It does. You place the contraption--hide it, rather--in the room where
+the conspirators conspire; then you run wires from it into another room
+where the detectives listen in on the receivers."
+
+"Could George Sea Otter install it?"
+
+"I think he could. There is a printed card of instructions, and I dare
+say George would find the job no more baffling than the ignition-system
+on the Napier."
+
+"Will he tell anybody?"
+
+"Not if you ask him not to."
+
+"Not even you?"
+
+"Not even a whisper to himself, Shirley."
+
+"Very well, then. Please send him over. Thank you so much, Bryce
+Cardigan. You're an awful good old sort, after all. Really, it hurts me
+to have to oppose you. It would be so much nicer if we didn't have all
+those redwood trees to protect, wouldn't it?"
+
+"Let us not argue the question, Shirley. I think I have my redwood trees
+protected. Good-bye."
+
+He had scarcely finished telephoning his home to instruct George Sea
+Otter to report with the express package to Shirley when Buck Ogilvy
+strolled into the office and tossed a document on his desk. "There's
+your little old temporary franchise, old thing," he announced; and with
+many a hearty laugh he related to Bryce the ingenious means by which he
+had obtained it. "And now if you will phone up to your logging-camp and
+instruct the woods-boss to lay off about fifty men to rest for the day,
+pending a hard night's work, and arrange to send them down on the last
+log-train to-day, I'll drop around after dinner and we'll fly to that
+jump-crossing. Here's a list of the tools we'll need."
+
+"I'll telephone Colonel Pennington's manager and ask him to kick a
+switch-engine in on the Laurel Creek spur and snake those flat-cars with
+my rails aboard out to the junction with the main line," Bryce replied.
+And he called up the Laguna Grande Lumber Company--only to be informed
+by no less a person than Colonel Pennington himself that it would be
+impossible to send the switch-engine in until the following afternoon.
+The Colonel was sorry, but the switch-engine was in the shop having the
+brick in her fire-box renewed, while the mogul that hauled the log trams
+would not have time to attend to the matter, since the flats would have
+to be spotted on the sidetrack at Cardigan's log-landing in the woods,
+and this could not be done until the last loaded log-train for the day
+had been hauled out to make room.
+
+"Why not switch back with the mogul after the logtrain has been hauled
+out on the main line?" Bryce demanded pointedly.
+
+Pennington, however, was not trapped. "My dear fellow," he replied
+patronizingly, "quite impossible, I assure you. That old trestle across
+the creek, my boy--it hasn't been looked at for years. While I'd send
+the light switch-engine over it and have no fears--"
+
+"I happen to know, Colonel, that the big mogul kicked those flats in to
+load the rails!"
+
+"I know it. And what happened? Why, that old trestle squeaked and shook
+and gave every evidence of being about to buckle in the centre. My
+engineer threatened to quit if I sent him in again."
+
+"Very well. I suppose I'll have to wait until the switch-engine comes
+out of the shop," Bryce replied resignedly, and hung up. He turned
+a troubled face to Ogilvy. "Checkmated!" he announced. "Whipped to a
+frazzle. The Colonel is lying, Buck, and I've caught him at it. As
+a matter of fact, the mogul didn't kick those flats in at all. The
+switch-engine did--and I know it. Now I'm going to send a man over to
+snoop around Pennington's roundhouse and verify his report about the
+switch-engine being in the shop."
+
+He did so. Half an hour later the messenger returned with the
+information that not only was the switch-engine not in the shop but her
+fire-box had been overhauled the week before and was reported to be in
+excellent condition.
+
+"That settles it," Buck Ogilvy mourned. "He had gum-shoe men on my
+trail, after all; they have reported, and the Colonel is as suspicious
+as a rhino. He doesn't know anything, but he smells danger just the
+same."
+
+"Exactly, Buck. So he is delaying the game until he can learn something
+definite." He drummed idly on his desk for several minutes. Then:
+
+"Buck, can you run a locomotive?"
+
+"With one hand, old man."
+
+"Fine business! Well, I guess we'll put in that crossing to-morrow
+night. The switch-engine will be in the roundhouse at Pennington's mill
+to-morrow night so we can't steal that; but we can steal the mogul. I'll
+just send word up to my woods-boss not to have his train loaded when
+the mogul comes up late to-morrow afternoon to haul it down to our
+log-landing. He will explain to the engineer and fireman that our big
+bull donkey went out and we couldn't get our logs down to the landing
+in time to get them loaded that day. Of course, the engine-crew won't
+bother to run down to Sequoia for the night--that is, they won't run the
+mogul down. They'll just leave her at our log-landing all night and put
+up for the night at our camp. However, if they should be forced, because
+of their private affairs, to return to Sequoia, they'll borrow my
+trackwalker's velocipede. I have one that is driven with a small
+gasolene engine--I use it in running back and forth to the logging-camp
+in case I fail to connect with a log-train."
+
+"But how do you know they will put up at your camp all night, Bryce?"
+
+"My men will make them comfortable, and it means they can lie abed until
+seven o'clock instead of having to roll out at five o'clock, which would
+be the case if they spent the night at this end of the line. If they
+do not stay at our logging-camp, the mogul will stay there, provided my
+woods-foreman lends them my velocipede. The fireman would prefer that to
+firing that big mogul all the way back to Sequoia."
+
+"Yes," Buck agreed, "I think he would."
+
+"There is a slight grade at our log-landing. I know that, because the
+air leaked out of the brakes on a log-train I was on a short time
+ago, and the train ran away with me. Now, the engine-crew will set the
+airbrakes on the mogul and leave her with steam up to throb all night;
+they'll not blow her down, for that would mean work firing her in the
+morning. Our task, Buck, will be to throw off the airbrakes and let her
+glide silently out of our log-landing. About a mile down the road we'll
+stop, get up steam, run down to the junction with the main line, back
+in on the Laurel Creek spur, couple on to those flat-cars and breeze
+merrily down to Sequoia with them. They'll be loaded waiting for us; our
+men will be congregated in our dry-yard just off Water Street near B,
+waiting for us to arrive with the rails--and bingo--we go to it. After
+we drop the flats, we'll run the engine back to the woods, leave it
+where we found it, return a-flying on the velocipede, if it's there, or
+in my automobile, if it isn't there. You can get back in ample time to
+superintend the cutting of the crossing!"
+
+"Spoken like a man!" quoth Buck Ogilvy. "You're the one man in this
+world for whom I'd steal a locomotive. 'At-a boy!"
+
+Had either of the conspirators known of Pennington's plans to entertain
+Mayor Poundstone at dinner on Thursday night, it is probable they would
+not have cheered until those flat-cars were out of the woods.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+
+Mayor Poundstone and his wife arrived at the Pennington home in Redwood
+Boulevard at six forty-five Thursday evening. It was with a profound
+feeling of relief that His Honour lifted the lady from their modest
+little "flivver," for once inside the Pennington house, he felt,
+he would be free from a peculiarly devilish brand of persecution
+inaugurated by his wife about three months previously. Mrs. Poundstone
+wanted a new automobile. And she had entered upon a campaign of nagging
+and complaint; hoping to wear Poundstone's resistance down to the point
+where he would be willing to barter his hope of salvation in return for
+a guarantee of peace on earth.
+
+"I feel like a perfect fool, calling upon these people in this filthy
+little rattletrap," Mrs. Poundstone protested as they passed up the
+cement walk toward the Pennington portal.
+
+Mayor Poundstone paused. Had he been Medusa, the glance he bent upon
+his spouse would have transformed her instantly into a not particularly
+symmetrical statue of concrete. He had reached the breaking-point.
+
+"In pity's name, woman," he growled, "talk about something else. Give me
+one night of peace. Let me enjoy my dinner and this visit."
+
+"I can't help it," Mrs. P. retorted with asperity. She pointed to
+Shirley Sumner's car parked under the porte-cochere. "If I had a sedan
+like that, I could die happy. And it only cost thirty-two hundred and
+fifty dollars."
+
+"I paid six hundred and fifty for the rattletrap, and I couldn't afford
+that," he almost whimpered. "You were happy with it until I was elected
+mayor."
+
+"You forget our social position, my dear," she purred sweetly.
+
+He could have struck her. "Hang your social position," he gritted
+savagely. "Shut up, will you? Social position in a sawmill town! Rats!"
+
+"Sh--sh! Control yourself, Henry!" She plucked gently at his arm; with
+her other hand she lifted the huge knocker on the front door.
+
+"Dammit, you'll drive me crazy yet," Poundstone gurgled, and subsided.
+
+The Pennington butler, a very superior person, opened the door and swept
+them with a faintly disapproving glance. It is possible that he found
+Mayor Poundstone, who was adorned with a white string tie, a soft slouch
+hat, a Prince Albert coat, and horseshoe cut vest, mildly amusing.
+
+The Poundstones entered. At the entrance to the living room the butler
+announced sonorously: "Mayor Poundstone and Mrs. Poundstone."
+
+"Glad to see you aboard the ship," Colonel Pennington boomed with his
+best air of hearty expansiveness. "Well, well," he continued, leading
+Mrs. Poundstone to a divan in front of the fire, "this is certainly
+delightful. My niece will be down in two shakes of a lamb's tail. Have a
+cigarette, Mr. Poundstone."
+
+In the midst of the commonplace chatter incident to such occasions,
+Shirley entered the room; and the Colonel, leaving her to entertain the
+guests, went to a small sideboard in one corner and brought forth the
+"materials," as he jocularly termed them. James appeared like magic
+with a tray, glasses, and tiny serviettes, and the Colonel's elixir was
+passed to the company.
+
+"To your beautiful eyes, Mrs. Poundstone," was Pennington's debonair
+toast as he fixed Mrs. P.'s green orbs with his own. "Poundstone, your
+very good health, sir."
+
+"Dee-licious," murmured Mrs. Poundstone. "Perfectly dee-licious. And not
+a bit strong!"
+
+"Have another," her hospitable host suggested, and he poured it, quite
+oblivious of the frightened wink which the mayor telegraphed his wife.
+
+"I will, if Miss Sumner will join me," Mrs. P. acquiesced.
+
+"Thanks. I seldom drink a cocktail, and one is always my limit," Shirley
+replied smilingly.
+
+"Oh, well," the Colonel retorted agreeably, "we'll make it a
+three-cornered festival. Poundstone, smoke up."
+
+They "smoked up," and Poundstone prayed to his rather nebulous gods that
+Mrs. P. would not discuss automobiles during the dinner.
+
+Alas! The Colonel's cocktails were not unduly fortified, but for all
+that, the two which Mrs. Poundstone had assimilated contained just
+sufficient "kick" to loosen the lady's tongue without thickening
+it. Consequently, about the time the piece de resistance made its
+appearance, she threw caution to the winds and adverted to the subject
+closest to her heart.
+
+"I was telling Henry as we came up the walk how greatly I envied you
+that beautiful sedan, Miss Sumner," she gushed. "Isn't it a perfectly
+stunning car?"
+
+Poundstone made one futile attempt to head her off. "And I was telling
+Mrs. Poundstone," he struck in with a pathetic attempt to appear
+humorous and condescending, "that a little jitney was our gait, and
+that she might as well abandon her passionate yearning for a closed car.
+Angelina, my dear, something tells me I'm going to enjoy this dinner
+a whole lot more if you'll just make up your mind to be real nice and
+resign yourself to the inevitable."
+
+"Never, my dear, never." She shook a coy finger at him. "You dear old
+tightie," she cooed, "you don't realize what a closed car means to a
+woman." She turned to Shirley. "How an open car does blow one around, my
+dear!"
+
+"Yes, indeed," said Shirley innocently.
+
+"Heard the McKinnon people had a man killed up in their woods yesterday,
+Colonel," Poundstone remarked, hoping against hope to divert the
+conversation.
+
+"Yes. The fellow's own fault," Pennington replied. "He was one of those
+employees who held to the opinion that every man is the captain of his
+own soul and the sole proprietor of his own body--hence that it behooved
+him to look after both, in view of the high cost of safety-appliances.
+He was warned that the logging-cable was weak at that old splice and
+liable to pull out of the becket--and sure enough it did. The free end
+of the cable snapped back like a whip, and--"
+
+"I hold to the opinion," Mrs. Poundstone interrupted, "that if one
+wishes for a thing hard enough and just keeps on wishing, one is bound
+to get it."
+
+"My dear," said Mr. Poundstone impressively, "if you would only confine
+yourself to wishing, I assure you your chances for success would be
+infinitely brighter."
+
+There was no mistaking this rebuke; even two cocktails were powerless
+to render Mrs. Poundstone oblivious to it. Shirley and her uncle saw
+the Mayor's lady flush slightly; they caught the glint of murder in His
+Honour's eye; and the keen intelligence of each warned them that closed
+cars should be a closed topic of conversation with the Poundstones. With
+the nicest tact in the world, Shirley adroitly changed the subject to
+some tailored shirt-waists she had observed in the window of a local
+dry-goods emporium that day, and Mrs. Poundstone subsided.
+
+About nine o'clock, Shirley, in response to a meaning glance from her
+relative, tactfully convoyed Mrs. Poundstone upstairs, leaving her uncle
+alone with his prey. Instantly Pennington got down to business.
+
+"Well," he queried, apropos of nothing, "what do you hear with reference
+to the Northern-California-Gregon Railroad?"
+
+"Oh, the usual amount of wind, Colonel. Nobody knows what to make of
+that outfit."
+
+Pennington studied the end of his cigar a moment. "Well, I don't know
+what to think of that project either," he admitted presently, "But while
+it looks like a fake, I have a suspicion that where there's so much
+smoke, one is likely to discover a little fire. I've been waiting to see
+whether or not they will apply for a franchise to enter the city, but
+they seem to be taking their time about it."
+
+"They certainly are a deliberate crowd," the Mayor murmured.
+
+"Have they made any move to get a franchise?" Pennington asked bluntly.
+"If they have, I suppose you would be the first man to hear about it. I
+don't mean to be impertinent," he added with a gracious smile, "but the
+fact is I noticed that windbag Ogilvy entering your office in the city
+hall the other afternoon, and I couldn't help wondering whether his
+visit was social or official."
+
+"Social--so far as I could observe," Poundstone replied truthfully,
+wondering just how much Pennington knew, and rather apprehensive that he
+might get caught in a lie before the evening was over.
+
+"Preliminary to the official visit, I dare say."
+
+The Colonel puffed thoughtfully for a while--for which the Mayor was
+grateful, since it provided time in which to organize himself. Suddenly,
+however, Pennington turned toward his guest and fixed the latter with a
+serious glance.
+
+"I hadn't anticipated discussing this matter with you, Poundstone, and
+you must forgive me for it; but the fact is--I might as well be frank
+with you--I am very greatly interested in the operation of this proposed
+railroad."
+
+"Indeed! Financially?"
+
+"Yes, but not in the financial way you think. If that railroad is built,
+it will have a very distinct effect on my finances."
+
+"In just what way?"
+
+"Disastrous."
+
+"I am amazed, Colonel."
+
+"You wouldn't if you had given the subject very close consideration. The
+logical route for this railroad is from Willits north to Sequoia, not
+from Sequoia north to Grant's Pass, Oregon. Such a road as the N.C.O.
+contemplates will tap about one third of the redwood belt only, while
+a line built in from the south will tap two thirds of it. The remaining
+third can be tapped by an extension of my own logging-road; when my own
+timber is logged out, I will want other business for my road, and if
+the N.C.O. parallels it, I will be left with two streaks of rust on my
+hands."
+
+"Ah, I perceive. So it will, so it will!"
+
+"You agree with me, then, Poundstone, that the N.C.O. is not designed to
+foster the best interests of the community. Of course you do."
+
+"Well, I hadn't given the subject very mature thought, Colonel, but
+in the light of your observations it would appear that you are quite
+right."
+
+"Of course I am right. I take it, therefore, that when the N.C.O.
+applies for its franchise to run through Sequoia, neither you nor your
+city council will consider the proposition at all."
+
+"I cannot, of course, speak for the city council--" Poundstone began,
+but Pennington's cold, amused smile froze further utterance.
+
+"Be frank with me, Poundstone. I am not a child. What I would like to
+know is this: will you exert every effort to block that franchise in the
+firm conviction that by so doing you will accomplish a laudable public
+service?"
+
+Poundstone squirmed. "I should not care, at this time, to go on record,"
+he replied evasively. "When I have had time to look into the matter more
+thoroughly--"
+
+"Tut-tut, my dear man! Let us not straddle the fence. Business is a
+game, and so is politics. Neither knows any sentiment. Suppose you
+should favour this N.C.O. crowd in a mistaken idea that you were doing
+the right thing, and that subsequently numberless fellow-citizens
+developed the idea that you had not done your public duty? Would some of
+them not be likely to invoke a recall election and retire you and your
+city council--in disgrace?"
+
+"I doubt if they could defeat me, Colonel."
+
+"I have no such doubt," Pennington replied pointedly.
+
+Poundstone looked up at him from under lowered lids. "Is that a threat?"
+he demanded tremulously.
+
+"My dear fellow! Threaten my guest!" Pennington laughed patronizingly.
+"I am giving you advice, Poundstone--and rather good advice, it strikes
+me. However, while we're on the subject, I have no hesitancy in telling
+you that in the event of a disastrous decision on your part, I should
+not feel justified in supporting you."
+
+He might, with equal frankness, have said: "I would smash you." To his
+guest his meaning was not obscure. Poundstone studied the pattern of
+the rug, and Pennington, watching him sharply, saw that the man was
+distressed. Then suddenly one of those brilliant inspirations, or
+flashes of rare intuition, which had helped so materially to fashion
+Pennington into a captain of industry, came to him. He resolved on a
+bold stroke.
+
+"Let's not beat about the bush, Poundstone," he said with the air of a
+father patiently striving to induce his child to recant a lie, tell
+the truth, and save himself from the parental wrath. "You've been doing
+business with Ogilvy; I know it for a fact, and you might as well admit
+it."
+
+Poundstone looked up, red and embarrassed. "If I had known--" he began.
+
+"Certainly, certainly! I realize you acted in perfect good faith.
+You're like the majority of people in Sequoia. You're all so crazy for
+rail-connection with the outside world that you jump at the first plan
+that seems to promise you one. Now, I'm as eager as the others, but if
+we are going to have a railroad, I, for one, desire the right kind of
+railroad; and the N.C.O. isn't the right kind--that is, not for the
+interests I represent. Have you promised Ogilvy a franchise?"
+
+There was no dodging that question. A denial, under the present
+circumstances, would be tantamount to an admission; Poundstone could not
+guess just how much the Colonel really knew, and it would not do to lie
+to him, since eventually the lie must be discovered. Caught between the
+horns of a dilemma, Poundstone only knew that Ogilvy could never be
+to him such a powerful enemy as Colonel Seth Pennington; so, after the
+fashion of his kind, he chose the lesser of two evils. He resolved to
+"come clean."
+
+"The city council has already granted the N.C.O. a temporary franchise,"
+he confessed.
+
+Pennington sprang furiously to his feet. "Dammit." he snarled, "why did
+you do that without consulting me?"
+
+"Didn't know you were remotely interested." Now that the ice was broken,
+Poundstone felt relieved and was prepared to defend his act vigorously.
+"And we did not commit ourselves irrevocably," he continued. "The
+temporary franchise will expire in twenty-eight days--and in that short
+time the N.C.O. cannot even get started."
+
+"Have you any understanding as to an extension of that temporary
+franchise, in case the N.C.O. desires it?"
+
+"Well, yes--not in writing, however. I gave Ogilvy to understand that
+if he was not ready in thirty days, an extension could readily be
+arranged."
+
+"Any witnesses?"
+
+"I am not such a fool, sir," Poundstone declared with asperity. "I had a
+notion--I might as well admit it--that you would have serious objection
+to having your tracks cut by a jump-crossing at B and Water streets."
+And for no reason in life except to justify himself and inculcate in
+Pennington an impression that the latter was dealing with a crafty and
+far-seeing mayor, Poundstone smiled boldly and knowingly. "I repeat,"
+he said, "that I did not put it in writing." He leaned back nonchalantly
+and blew smoke at the ceiling.
+
+"You oily rascal!" Pennington soliloquized. "You're a smarter man than
+I thought. You're trying to play both ends against the middle." He
+recalled the report of his private detective and the incident of
+Ogilvy's visit to young Henry Poundstone's office with a small leather
+bag; he was more than ever convinced that this bag had contained
+the bribe, in gold coin, which had been productive of that temporary
+franchise and the verbal understanding for its possible extension.
+
+"Ogilvy did business with you through your son Henry," he challenged.
+Poundstone started violently. "How much did Henry get out of it?"
+Pennington continued brutally.
+
+"Two hundred and fifty dollars retainer, and not a cent more,"
+Poundstone protested virtuously--and truthfully.
+
+"You're not so good a business man as I gave you credit for being," the
+Colonel retorted mirthfully "Two hundred and fifty dollars! Oh, Lord!
+Poundstone, you're funny. Upon my word, you're a scream." And the
+Colonel gave himself up to a sincerely hearty laugh. "You call it a
+retainer," he continued presently, "but a grand jury might call it
+something else. However," he went on after a slight pause, "you're not
+in politics for your health; so let's get down to brass tacks. How much
+do you want to deny the N.C.O. not only an extension of that temporary
+franchise but also a permanent franchise when they apply for it?"
+
+Poundstone rose with great dignity. "Colonel Pennington, sir," he said,
+"you insult me."
+
+"Sit down. You've been insulted that way before now. Shall we say one
+thousand dollars per each for your three good councilmen and true, and
+for yourself that sedan of my niece's? It's a good car. Last year's
+model, but only run about four thousand miles and in tiptop condition.
+It's always had the best of care, and I imagine it will please Mrs. P.
+immensely and grant you surcease from sorrow. Of course, I will not give
+it to you. I'll sell it to you--five hundred down upon the signing of
+the agreement, and in lieu of the cash, I will take over that jitney
+Mrs. Poundstone finds so distasteful. Then I will employ your son Henry
+as the attorney for the Laguna Grande Lumber Company and give him a
+retainer of twenty-five hundred dollars for one year. I will leave it to
+you to get this twenty-five hundred dollars from Henry and pay my niece
+cash for the car. Doesn't that strike you as a perfectly safe and sane
+proposition?"
+
+Had a vista of paradise opened up before Mr. Poundstone, he could not
+have been more thrilled. He had been absolutely honest in
+his plea to Mrs. Poundstone that he could not afford a
+thirty-two-hundred-and-fifty-dollar sedan, much as he longed to oblige
+her and gain a greatly to be desired peace. And now the price was
+dangling before his eyes, so to speak. At any rate it was parked in the
+porte-cochere not fifty feet distant!
+
+For the space of a minute the Mayor weighed his son's future as a
+corporation attorney against his own future as mayor of Sequoia--and
+Henry lost.
+
+"It might be arranged, Colonel," he murmured in a low voice--the voice
+of shame.
+
+"It is already arranged," the Colonel replied cheerfully. "Leave your
+jit at the front gate and drive home in Shirley's car. I'll arrange
+matters with her." He laughed shortly. "It means, of course, that I'll
+have to telegraph to San Francisco to-morrow and buy her a later model.
+Thank goodness, she has a birthday to-morrow! Have a fresh cigar,
+Mayor."
+
+Riding home that night in Shirley Sumner's car Mrs. Poundstone leaned
+suddenly toward her husband, threw a fat arm around his neck and kissed
+him. "Oh, Henry, you darling!" she purred. "What did I tell you? If a
+person only wishes hard enough--"
+
+"Oh, go to the devil!" he roared angrily. "You've nagged me into it.
+Shut up and take your arm away. Do you want me to wreck the car before
+we've had it an hour?"
+
+As for Colonel Pennington, he had little difficulty in explaining
+the deal to Shirley, who was sleepy and not at all interested. The
+Poundstones had bored her to extinction, and upon her uncle's assurance
+that she would have a new car within a week, she thanked him and for the
+first time retired without offering her cheek for his good-night
+kiss. Shortly thereafter the Colonel sought his own virtuous couch and
+prepared to surrender himself to the first good sleep in three weeks.
+He laid the flattering unction to his soul that Bryce Cardigan had dealt
+him a poor hand from a marked deck and he had played it exceedingly
+well. "Lucky I blocked the young beggar from getting those rails out of
+the Laurel Creek spur," he mused, "or he'd have had his jump-crossing
+in overnight--and then where the devil would I have been? Up Salt Creek
+without a paddle--and all the courts in Christendom would avail me
+nothing."
+
+He was dozing off, when a sound smote upon his ears. Instantly he was
+wide awake, listening intently, his head cocked on one side. The sound
+grew louder; evidently it was approaching Sequoia--and with a bound the
+Colonel sat up in bed, trembling in every limb.
+
+Suddenly, out of the deep, rumbling diapason he heard a sharp
+click--then another and another. He counted them--six in all.
+
+"A locomotive and two flat-cars!" he murmured. "And they just passed
+over the switch leading from the main-line tracks out to my log-dump.
+That means the train is going down Water Street to the switch into
+Cardigan's yard. By George, they've outwitted me!"
+
+With the agility of a boy he sprang into his clothes, raced downstairs,
+and leaped into Mayor Poundstone's jitney, standing in the darkness at
+the front gate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+
+The success of Bryce Cardigan's plan for getting Ms rails down from
+Laurel Creek depended entirely upon the whimsy which might seize
+the crew of the big mogul that hauled the last load of logs out of
+Cardigan's redwoods on Thursday afternoon. Should the engineer and
+fireman decide to leave the locomotive at the logging-camp for the
+night, Bryce's task would be as simple as turning a hose down a
+squirrel-hole. On the other hand, should they run back to Sequoia with
+the engine, he and Ogilvy faced the alternative of "borrowing" it from
+the Laguna Grande Lumber Company's roundhouse; and that operation, in
+view of the fact that Pennington's night watchman would be certain to
+hear the engine leaving, offered difficulties.
+
+Throughout the afternoon, after having sent his orders in writing to
+the woods-boss, via George Sea Otter (for he dared not trust to the
+telephone), be waited in his office for a telephone-call from the
+logging-camp as to what action the engine-crew had taken. He could
+not work; he could not think. He only knew that all depended upon the
+success of his coup to-night. Finally, at a quarter of six, Curtis, his
+woods-boss rang in.
+
+"They're staying here all night, sir," he reported.
+
+"House them as far from the log-landing as possible, and organize a
+poker-game to keep them busy in case they don't go to bed before eight
+o'clock," Bryce ordered. "In the meantime, send a man you can trust--Jim
+Harding, who runs the big bull-donkey, will do--down to the locomotive
+to keep steam up until I arrive."
+
+He had scarcely hung up, when Buck Ogilvy came into the office. "Well?"
+he queried casually.
+
+"Safe-o, Buck!" replied Bryce. "How about your end of the contract?"
+
+"Crowbars, picks, shovels, hack-saws to cut the rails, lanterns to work
+by, and men to do the work will be cached in your lumber-yard by nine
+o'clock, waiting for the rails to arrive."
+
+Bryce nodded his approval, "Then I suppose there's nothing to do but get
+a bite of dinner and proceed to business."
+
+Buck insisted on keeping an engagement to dine with Moira, and Bryce
+agreed to call for him at the Bon Gusto restaurant. Then Bryce went home
+to dine with his father. Old Cardigan was happier than his son had seen
+him since the return of the latter to Sequoia.
+
+"Well, sonny, I've had a mighty pleasant afternoon," he declared as
+Bryce led him to the dinner-table. "I've been up to the Valley of the
+Giants."
+
+Bryce was amazed. "Why, how could you?" he demanded. "The old skid-road
+is impassable, and after you leave the end of the skid-road, the trail
+in to Mother's grave is so overgrown with buckthorn and wild lilac I
+doubt if a rabbit could get through it comfortably."
+
+"Not a bit of it," the old man replied. "Somebody has gone to work and
+planked that old skid-road and put up a hand-railing on each side, while
+the trail through the Giants has been grubbed out and smoothed over. All
+that old logging-cable I abandoned in those choppings has been strung
+from tree to tree alongside the path on both sides. I can go up there
+alone now, once George sets me on the old skid-road; I can't get lost."
+
+"How did you discover this?" Bryce demanded.
+
+"Judge Moore, representing the new owner, called round this morning
+and took me in tow. He said his client knew the property held for me a
+certain sentimental value which wasn't transferred in the deed, and
+so the Judge had been instructed to have the skid-road planked and the
+forest trail grubbed out--for me. It appears that the Valley is going to
+be a public park, after all, but for the present and while I live, it is
+my private park."
+
+"This is perfectly amazing, partner."
+
+"It's mighty comforting," his father admitted. "Guess the new owner must
+be one of my old friends--perhaps somebody I did a favour for once--and
+this is his way of repaying. Remember the old sugar-pine windfall we
+used to sit on? Well, it's rotted through, and bears have clawed it into
+chips in their search for grubs, but the new owner had a seat put in
+there for me--just the kind of seat I like--a lumberjack's rocking-chair
+made from an old vinegar-barrel. I sat in it, and the Judge left me,
+and I did a right smart lot o' thinking. And while it didn't lead me
+anywhere, still I--er--"
+
+"You felt better, didn't you?" his son suggested.
+
+John Cardigan nodded. "I'd like to know the name of the owner," he said
+presently. "I'd like mighty well to say thank you to him. It isn't usual
+for people nowadays to have as much respect for sentiment in an old
+duffer like me as the fellow has. He sort of makes me feel as if I
+hadn't sold at all."
+
+Buck Ogilvy came out of the Bon Gusto restaurant with Moira, just as
+Bryce, with George Sea Otter at the wheel of the Napier, drove up to
+the curb. They left Moira at her boarding-house, and rolled noiselessly
+away.
+
+At nine o'clock they arrived at Cardigan's log-landing and found Jim
+Harding, the bull-donkey engineer, placidly smoking his pipe in the cab.
+Bryce hailed him.
+
+"That you, Jim?"
+
+"You bet."
+
+"Run up to Jabe Curtis's shanty, and tell him we're here. Have him
+gather his gang and bring two pairs of overalls and two jumpers--large
+size--with him when he comes."
+
+Harding vanished into the darkness, and Buck Ogilvy climbed up into the
+cab and glanced at the steam-gauge. "A hundred and forty," he announced.
+"Good enough!"
+
+Presently the woods-boss, accompanied by thirty of his best men, came
+down to the log-landing. At Bryce's order they clambered aboard the
+engine and tender, hanging on the steps, on the roof of the cab, on the
+cowcatcher--anywhere they could find a toe-hold. Harding cast aside the
+two old ties which the careful engine-crew had placed across the tracks
+in front of the drivers as additional precaution; Buck Ogilvy cut off
+the air, and the locomotive and tender began to glide slowly down the
+almost imperceptible grade. With a slight click it cleared the switch
+and slid out onto the Cardigan lateral, swiftly gathering speed. A
+quarter of a mile down the line Buck Ogilvy applied the brakes and eased
+her down to twenty miles per hour.
+
+At the junction with the main line Buck backed briskly up into the
+Laguna Grande woods, and coupled to the two loaded flat-cars. The
+woods-gang scrambled aboard the flats, and the train pulled out for
+Sequoia. Forty minutes later they rumbled down Water Street and slid to
+a grinding halt at the intersection of B Street.
+
+From the darkness of Cardigan's drying-yard, where they had been
+waiting, twenty picked men of the mill-crew now emerged, bearing
+lanterns and tools. Under Buck Ogilvy's direction the dirt promptly
+began to fly, while the woods-crew unloaded the rails and piled them
+close to the sidewalk.
+
+Suddenly a voice, harsh and strident with passion, rose above the thud
+of the picks and the clang of metal.
+
+"Who's in charge here, and what in blazes do you mean by cutting my
+tracks?"
+
+Bryce turned in time to behold Colonel Seth Pennington leap from an
+automobile and advance upon Buck Ogilvy. Ogilvy held a lantern up to the
+Colonel's face and surveyed Pennington calmly.
+
+"Colonel," he began with exasperating politeness, "--I presume you are
+Colonel Pennington--my name is Buchanan P. Ogilvy, and I am in charge
+of these operations. I am the vice-president and general manager of the
+N.C.O., and I am engaged in the blithe task of making a jump-crossing
+of your rails. I had hoped to accomplish this without your knowledge
+or consent, but now that you are here, that hope, of course, has died
+a-bornin'. Have a cigar." And he thrust a perfecco under the Colonel's
+nose. Pennington struck it to the ground, and on the instant, half a
+dozen rough rascals emptied their shovels over him. He was deluged with
+dirt.
+
+"Stand back, Colonel, stand back, if you please. You're in the way of
+the shovellers," Buck Ogilvy warned him soothingly.
+
+Bryce Cardigan came over, and at sight of him Pennington choked with
+fury. "You--you--" he sputtered, unable to say more.
+
+"I'm the N.C.O.," Bryce replied. "Nice little fiction that of yours
+about the switch-engine being laid up in the shops and the Laurel Creek
+bridge being unsafe for this big mogul." He looked Pennington over with
+frank admiration. "You're certainly on the job, Colonel. I'll say that
+much for you. The man who plans to defeat you must jump far and fast, or
+his tail will be trod on."
+
+"You've stolen my engine," Pennington almost screamed. "I'll have the
+law on you for grand larceny."
+
+"Tut-tut! You don't know who stole your engine. For all you know, your
+own engine-crew may have run it down here."
+
+"I'll attend to you, sir," Pennington replied, and he turned to enter
+Mayor Poundstone's little flivver.
+
+"Not to-night, at least," Bryce retorted gently. "Having gone this far,
+I would be a poor general to permit you to escape now with the news of
+your discovery. You'd be down here in an hour with a couple of hundred
+members of your mill-crew and give us the rush. You will oblige me,
+Colonel Pennington, by remaining exactly where you are until I give you
+permission to depart."
+
+"And if I refuse--"
+
+"Then I shall manhandle you, truss you up like a fowl in the tonneau of
+your car, and gag you."
+
+To Bryce's infinite surprise the Colonel smiled. "Oh, very well!" he
+replied. "I guess you've got the bulge on me, young man. Do you mind if
+I sit in the warm cab of my own engine? I came away in such a hurry I
+quite forgot my overcoat."
+
+"Not at all. I'll sit up there and keep you company."
+
+Half an hour passed. An automobile came slowly up Water Street and
+paused half a block away, evidently reconnoitering the situation.
+Instantly the Colonel thrust his head out the cab window.
+
+"Sexton!" he shouted. "Cardigan's cutting in a crossing. He's holding me
+here against my will. Get the mill-crew together and phone for Rondeau
+and his woods-crew. Send the switch-engine and a couple of flats up for
+them. Phone Poundstone. Tell him to have the chief of police--"
+
+Bryce Cardigan's great hand closed over the Colonel's neck, while
+down Water Street a dark streak that was Buck Ogilvy sped toward the
+automobile, intending to climb in and make Pennington's manager a
+prisoner also. He was too late, however. Sexton swung his car and
+departed at full speed down Water Street, leaving the disappointed Buck
+to return panting to the scene of operations.
+
+Bryce Cardigan released his hold on Pennington's neck. "You win,
+Colonel," he announced. "No good can come of holding you here any
+longer. Into your car and on your way."
+
+"Thank you, young man," the Colonel answered, and there was a metallic
+ring in his voice. He looked at his watch in the glare of a torch.
+"Plenty of time," he murmured. "Curfew shall not ring to-night." Quite
+deliberately he climbed into the Mayor's late source of woe and breezed
+away.
+
+Colonel Pennington did not at once return to his home, however. Instead,
+he drove up to the business centre of the town. The streets were
+deserted, but one saloon--the Sawdust Pile--was still open.
+
+Pennington strode through the bar and into the back room, where a
+number of poker-games were in progress. For a moment he stood, his cold,
+ophidian glance circling the room until it came to rest on no less a
+personage than the Black Minorca, an individual with whom the reader has
+already had some slight acquaintance. It will be recalled that the
+Black Minorca led the futile rush against Bryce Cardigan that day in
+Pennington's woods.
+
+The Colonel approached the table where the Black Minorca sat thumbing
+the edges of his cards, and touched the cholo on the shoulder. The Black
+Minorca turned, and Pennington nodded to him to follow; whereupon the
+latter cashed in his chips and joined his employer on the sidewalk. Here
+a whispered conversation ensued, and at its conclusion the Black Minorca
+nodded vigorously.
+
+"Sure!" he assured the Colonel. "I'll fix 'em good and plenty."
+
+Together Pennington and the Black Minorca entered the automobile and
+proceeded swiftly to the Laguna Grande Lumber Company's mill-office.
+From a locker the Colonel produced a repeating rifle and three boxes of
+cartridges, which he handed to the cholo, who departed without further
+ado into the night.
+
+Twenty minutes later, from the top of a lumber-pile in Cardigan's
+drying-yard, Bryce Cardigan saw the flash of a rifle and felt a sudden
+sting on his left forearm. He leaped around in front of the cowcatcher
+to gain the shelter of the engine, and another bullet struck at his feet
+and ricocheted off into the night. It was followed by a fusillade, the
+bullets kicking up the freshly disturbed earth among the workers and
+sending them scurrying to various points of safety. In an instant the
+crossing was deserted, and work had been stopped, while from the top of
+the adjacent lumber-pile the Black Minorca poured a stream of lead
+and filthy invective at every point which he suspected of harbouring a
+Cardigan follower.
+
+"I don't think he's hurt anybody," Buck Ogilvy whispered as he crouched
+with Bryce beside the engine, "but that's due to his marksmanship rather
+than his intentions."
+
+"He tried hard enough to plug me," Bryce declared, and showed the hole
+through his sleeve. "They call him the Black Minorca, and he's a mongrel
+greaser who'd kill his own mother for a fifty-dollar bill."
+
+"I'd like to plug him," Buck murmured regretfully.
+
+"What would be the use? This will be his last night in Humboldt
+County--"
+
+A rifle shot rang out from the side of B Street; from the lumber-pile
+across the street, Bryce and Ogilvy heard a suppressed grunt of pain,
+and a crash as of a breaking board. Instantly out of the shadows George
+Sea Otter came padding on velvet feet, rifle in hand--and then Bryce
+understood.
+
+"All right, boss," said George simply as he joined Bryce and Ogilvy
+under the lee of the locomotive. "Now we get busy again."
+
+"Safe-o, men," Ogilvy called. "Back to the job." And while Bryce,
+followed by the careless George Sea Otter, went into the lumber-yard to
+succour the enemy, Ogilvy set an example to the men by stepping into the
+open and starting briskly to work with a shovel.
+
+At the bottom of the pile of lumber the Black Minorca was discovered
+with a severe flesh-wound in his right hip; also he was suffering from
+numerous bruises and contusions. George Sea Otter possessed himself of
+the fallen cholo's rifle, while Bryce picked the wretch up and carried
+him to his automobile.
+
+"Take the swine over to the Laguna Grande Lumber Company's hospital and
+tell them to patch him up," he ordered George Sea Otter. "I'll keep both
+rifles and the ammunition here for Jules Rondeau and his woods-gang.
+They'll probably be dropping in on us about two a.m., if I know anything
+about Colonel Pennington's way of doing things."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+
+Having dispatched the Black Minorca to hold up the work until the
+arrival of reinforcements, Colonel Pennington fairly burned the streets
+en route to his home. He realized that there would be no more sleep
+for him that night, and he was desirous of getting into a heavy ulster
+before venturing forth again into the night air.
+
+The violent slam with which he closed the front door after him brought
+Shirley, in dressing-gown and slippers, to the staircase.
+
+"Uncle Seth!" she called.
+
+"Here!" he replied from the hall below.
+
+"What's the matter?"
+
+"There's the devil to pay," he answered. "That fellow Cardigan is back
+of the N.C.O., after all, and he and Ogilvy have a gang of fifty
+men down at the intersection of Water and B streets, cutting in a
+jump-crossing of our line."
+
+He dashed into the living room, and she heard him calling frantically
+into the telephone.
+
+"At last!" she murmured, and crept down the stairs, pausing behind the
+heavy portieres at the entrance to the living room.
+
+"That you, Poundstone?" she heard him saying rapidly into the
+transmitter. "Pennington speaking. Young Bryce Cardigan is behind that
+N.C.O. outfit, and it's a logging-road and not intended to build through
+to Grant's Pass at all. Cardigan and Ogilvy are at Water and B streets
+this very instant with a gang of fifty men cutting in a jump-crossing of
+my line, curse them! They'll have it in by six o'clock to-morrow morning
+if something isn't done--and once they get it in, the fat's in the fire.
+
+"Telephone the chief of police and order him to take his entire force
+down there, if necessary, and stop that work. To blazes with that
+temporary franchise! You stop that work for two hours, and I'll do
+the rest. Tell the chief of police not to recognize that temporary
+franchise. He can be suspicious of it, can't he, and refuse to let
+the work go on until he finds you? And you can be hard to find for two
+hours, can you not? Delay, delay, man! That's all I want... Yes, yes,
+I understand. You get down about daylight and roast the chief of police
+for interfering, but in the meantime!... Thank you, Poundstone, thank
+you. Good-bye."
+
+He stood at the telephone, the receiver still held to his ear and his
+right forefinger holding down the hook while the line cleared. When
+he spoke again, Shirley knew he was calling his mill-office. He got a
+response immediately, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour.
+
+"Sexton? Pennington speaking. I've sent over the Black Minorca with a
+rifle and sixty rounds of ammunition... What? You can hear him shooting
+already? Bully boy with a crockery eye! He'll clean that gang out
+and keep them from working until the police arrive. You've telephoned
+Rondeau, have you?... Good! He'll have his men waiting at the
+log-landing, and there'll be no delay. As soon as you've seen the
+switch-engine started for the woods, meet me down at Water and B
+streets. Sexton, we've got to block them. It means a loss of millions to
+me if we fail!"
+
+Shirley was standing in the doorway as he faced about from the
+telephone. "Uncle Seth," she said quietly, "use any honourable method of
+defeating Bryce Cardigan, but call off the Black Minorca. I shall hold
+you personally responsible for Bryce Cardigan's life, and if you fail
+me, I shall never forgive you."
+
+"Silly, silly girl!" he soothed her. "Don't you know I would not stoop
+to bush-whacking? There's some shooting going on, but its wild shooting,
+just to frighten Cardigan and his men off the job."
+
+"You can't frighten him," she cried passionately, "You know you can't.
+He'll kill the Black Minorca, or the Black Minorca will kill him. Go
+instantly and stop it."
+
+"All right, all right!" he said rather humbly, and sprang down the front
+steps into the waiting car. "I'll play the game fairly, Shirley, never
+fear."
+
+She stood in the doorway and watched the red tail-light, like a
+malevolent eye, disappear down the street. And presently as she stood
+there, down the boulevard a huge gray car came slipping noiselessly--so
+noiselessly, in fact, that Shirley recognized it by that very quality of
+silence. It was Bryce Cardigan's Napier.
+
+"George!" she called. "Come here."
+
+The car slid over to the gate and stopped at the sight of the slim white
+figure running down the garden walk.
+
+"Is Mr. Cardigan hurt?" she demanded in an agony of suspense.
+
+George Sea Otter grunted contemptuously. "Nobody hurt 'cept the Black
+Minorca. I am taking him to your company hospital, miss. He tried to
+shoot my boss, so I shoot him myself once through the leg. Now my boss
+says: 'Take him to the Laguna Grande hospital, George.' Me, I would drop
+this greaser in the bay if I was the boss."
+
+She laughed hysterically. "On your way back from the hospital stop and
+pick me up, George," she ordered. "This senseless feud has gone far
+enough. I must stop it--at once."
+
+He touched his broad hat, and she returned to the house to dress.
+
+Meanwhile Colonel Pennington had reached the crossing once more,
+simultaneously with the arrival of Sam Perkins, the chief of police,
+accompanied by two automobiles crammed with patrolmen. Perkins strutted
+up to Bryce Cardigan and Buck Ogilvy.
+
+"What's the meaning of all this row, Mr. Cardigan?" he demanded.
+
+"Something has slipped, Sam," Bryce retorted pleasantly. "You've been
+calling me Bryce for the past twenty years, and now you're mistering me!
+The meaning of this row, you ask?" Bryce continued. "Well, I'm engaged
+in making a jump-crossing of Colonel Pennington's tracks, under a
+temporary franchise granted me by the city of Sequoia. Here's the
+franchise." And he thrust the document under the police chief's nose.
+
+"This is the first I've heard about any franchise," Sam Perkins replied
+suspiciously. "Seems to me you been mighty secret about this job. How do
+I know this ain't a forgery?"
+
+"Call up the mayor and ask him," Bryce suggested.
+
+"I'll do that," quoth Mr. Perkins ponderously. "And in the meantime,
+don't do any more digging or rail-cutting." He hurried away to his
+automobile, leaving a lieutenant in charge of the squad.
+
+"Also in the meantime, young man," Colonel Pennington announced, "you
+will pardon me if I take possession of my locomotive and flat-cars. I
+observe you have finished unloading those rails."
+
+"Help yourself, Colonel," Bryce replied with an assumption of heartiness
+he was far from feeling.
+
+"Thank you so much, Cardigan." With the greatest good nature in life,
+Pennington climbed into the cab, reached for the bell-cord, and rang
+the bell vigorously. Then he permitted himself a triumphant toot of
+the whistle, after which he threw off the air and gently opened the
+throttle. He was not a locomotive-engineer but he had ridden in the
+cab of his own locomotive and felt quite confident of his ability in a
+pinch.
+
+With a creak and a bump the train started, and the Colonel ran it slowly
+up until the locomotive stood on the tracks exactly where Buck Ogilvy
+had been cutting in his crossing; whereupon the Colonel locked the
+brakes, opened his exhaust, and blew the boiler down. And when the last
+ounce of steam had escaped, he descended and smilingly accosted Bryce
+Cardigan.
+
+"That engine being my property," he announced, "I'll take the short end
+of any bet you care to make, young man, that it will sit on those tracks
+until your temporary franchise expires. I'd give a good deal to see
+anybody not in my employ attempt to get up steam in that boiler until I
+give the word. Cut in your jump-crossing now, if you can, you whelp, and
+be damned to you. I've got you blocked!"
+
+"I rather imagine this nice gentleman has it on us, old dear," chirped
+Buck Ogilvy plaintively. "Well! We did our damndest, which angels
+can't do no more. Let us gather up our tools and go home, my son, for
+something tells me that if I hang around here I'll bust one of two
+things--this sleek scoundrel's gray head or one of my bellicose veins!
+Hello! Whom have we here?"
+
+Bryce turned and found himself facing Shirley Sumner. Her tender lip was
+quivering, and the tears shone in her eyes like stars. He stared at her
+in silence.
+
+"My friend," she murmured tremulously, "didn't I tell you I would not
+permit you to build the N.C.O.?"
+
+He bowed his head in rage and shame at his defeat. Buck Ogilvy took him
+by the arm. "''Tis midnight's holy hour,'" he quoted, "'and silence
+now is brooding like a gentle spirit o'er a still and pulseless world.'
+Bryce, old chap, this is one of those occasions where silence is golden.
+Speak not. I'll do it for you. Miss Sumner," he continued, bowing
+graciously, "and Colonel Pennington," favouring that triumphant rascal
+with an equally gracious bow, "we leave you in possession of the
+field--temporarily. However, if anybody should drive up in a hack and
+lean out and ask you, just tell him Buck Ogilvy has another trump tucked
+away in his kimono."
+
+Bryce turned to go, but with a sudden impulse Shirley laid her hand on
+his arm--his left arm. "Bryce!" she murmured.
+
+He lifted her hand gently from his forearm, led her to the front of
+the locomotive, and held her hand up to the headlight. Her fingers were
+crimson with blood.
+
+"Your uncle's killer did that, Shirley," he said ironically. "It's only
+a slight flesh-wound, but that is no fault of your allies. Good-night."
+
+And he left her standing, pale of face and trembling, in the white glare
+of the headlight.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+
+Shirley made no effort to detain Bryce Cardigan as he walked to his car
+and climbed into it. Ogilvy remained merely long enough to give orders
+to the foreman to gather up the tools, store them in the machine-shop
+of Cardigan's mill, and dismiss his gang; then he, too, entered the
+automobile, and at a word from Bryce, the car slid noiselessly away into
+the darkness. The track-cutting crew departed a few minutes later, and
+when Shirley found herself alone with her uncle, the tumult in her heart
+gave way to the tears she could no longer repress. Pennington stood by,
+watching her curiously, coldly.
+
+Presently Shirley mastered her emotion and glanced toward him.
+
+"Well, my dear?" he queried nervously.
+
+"I--I think I had better go home," she said without spirit.
+
+"I think so, too," he answered. "Get into the Mayor's flivver, my dear,
+and I'll drive you. And perhaps the least said about this affair the
+better, Shirley. There are many things that you do not understand and
+which cannot be elucidated by discussion."
+
+"I can understand an attempt at assassination, Uncle Seth."
+
+"That blackguard Minorca! I should have known better than to put him on
+such a job. I told him to bluff and threaten; Cardigan, I knew, would
+realize the grudge the Black Minorca has against him, and for that
+reason I figured the greaser was the only man who could bluff him. While
+I gave him orders to shoot, I told him distinctly not to hit anybody.
+Good Lord, Shirley, surely you do not think I would wink at a murder!"
+
+"I do," she answered passionately. "With Bryce Cardigan out of the way,
+you would have a clear field before you--"
+
+"Oh, my dear, my dear! Surely you do not realize what you are saying.
+You are beside yourself, Shirley. Please--please do not wound me so--so
+horribly. You do not--you cannot realize what a desperate fight I have
+been putting up for both our sakes. I am surrounded by enemies--the most
+implacable enemies. They force me to fight the devil with fire--and here
+you are, giving them aid and comfort."
+
+"I want you to defeat Bryce Cardigan, if you can do it fairly."
+
+"At another time and in a calmer mood we will discuss that villain,"
+he said authoritatively. "If we argue the matter now, we are liable to
+misunderstandings; we may quarrel, and that is something neither of us
+can afford. Get into the car, and we will go home. There is nothing more
+to be done to-night."
+
+"Your sophistry does not alter my opinion," she replied firmly.
+"However, as you say, this is neither the time nor the place to discuss
+it."
+
+They drove home in silence. Shirley went at once to her room. For the
+Colonel, however, the night's work had scarcely begun. The instant he
+heard the door to his niece's room shut, he went to the telephone and
+called up the Laguna Grande roundhouse. Sexton, his manager, answered.
+
+"Have you sent the switch-engine to the woods for Rondeau and his men?"
+
+"Just left."
+
+"Good! Now, then, Sexton, listen to me: As you know, this raid of
+Cardigan's has developed so suddenly I am more or less taken by surprise
+and have had no time to prepare the kind of counter-attack that will be
+most effective. However, with the crossing blocked, I gain time in which
+to organize--only there must be no weak point in my organization. In
+order to insure that, I am proceeding to San Francisco to-night by
+motor, via the coast road. I will arrive late to-morrow night, and early
+Saturday morning I will appear in the United States District Court with
+our attorneys and file a complaint and petition for an order temporarily
+restraining the N.C.O. from cutting our tracks.
+
+"I will have to make an affidavit to support the complaint, so I had
+better be Johnny-on-the-spot to do it, rather than risk the delay of
+making the affidavit tomorrow morning here and forwarding it by mail to
+our attorneys. The judge will sign a restraining order, returnable in
+from ten to thirty days--I'll try for thirty, because that will knock
+out the N.C.O.'s temporary franchise--and after I have obtained the
+restraining order, I will have the United States marshal telegraph it to
+Ogilvy and Cardigan!"
+
+"Bully!" cried Sexton heartily. "That will fix their clock."
+
+"In the meantime," Pennington continued, "logs will be glutting our
+landings. We need that locomotive for its legitimate purposes. Take all
+that discarded machinery and the old boiler we removed from the mill
+last fall, dump it on the tracks at the crossing, and get the locomotive
+back on its run. Understand? The other side, having no means of removing
+these heavy obstructions, will be blocked until I return; by that time
+the matter will be in the District Court, Cardigan will be hung up until
+his temporary franchise expires--and the city council will not renew it.
+Get me?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"I'll be back Sunday forenoon. Good-bye."
+
+He hung up, went to his chauffeur's quarters over the garage, and routed
+the man out of bed. Then he returned quietly to his room, dressed and
+packed a bag for his journey, left a brief note for Shirley notifying
+her of his departure, and started on his two-hundred-and-fifty mile
+trip over the mountains to the south. As his car sped through sleeping
+Sequoia and gained the open country, the Colonel's heart thrilled
+pleasurably. He held cards and spades, big and little casino, four
+aces and the joker; therefore he knew he could sweep the board at his
+pleasure. And during his absence Shirley would have opportunity to
+cool off, while he would find time to formulate an argument to lull her
+suspicions upon his return.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+
+Quite oblivious of her uncle's departure for San Francisco, Shirley lay
+awake throughout the remainder of the night, turning over and over in
+her mind the various aspects of the Cardigan-Fennington imbroglio. Of
+one thing she was quite certain; peace must be declared at all hazards.
+She had been obsessed of a desire, rather unusual in her sex, to see a
+fight worth while; she had planned to permit it to go to a knockout, to
+use Bryce Cardigan's language, because she believed Bryce Cardigan would
+be vanquished--and she had desired to see him smashed--but not beyond
+repair, for her joy in the conflict was to lie in the task of putting
+the pieces together afterward! She realized now, however, that she
+had permitted matters to go too far. A revulsion of feeling toward her
+uncle, induced by the memory of Bryce Cardigan's blood on her white
+finger-tips, convinced the girl that, at all hazards to her financial
+future, henceforth she and her uncle must tread separate paths. She had
+found him out at last, and because in her nature there was some of his
+own fixity of purpose, the resolution cost her no particular pang.
+
+It was rather a relief, therefore, when the imperturbable James handed
+her at breakfast the following note:
+
+Shirley, Dear
+
+After leaving you last night, I decided that in your present frame
+of mind my absence for a few days might tend to a calmer and clearer
+perception, on your part, of the necessary tactics which in a moment of
+desperation, I saw fit, with regret, to pursue last night. And in the
+hope that you will have attained your old attitude toward me before
+my return, I am leaving in the motor for San Francisco. Your terrible
+accusation has grieved me to such an extent that I do not feel equal to
+the task of confronting you until, in a more judicial frame of mind,
+you can truly absolve me of the charge of wishing to do away with young
+Cardigan. Your affectionate Uncle Seth.
+
+Shirley's lip curled. With a rarer, keener intuition than she had
+hitherto manifested, she sensed the hypocrisy between the lines; she was
+not deceived.
+
+"He has gone to San Francisco for more ammunition," she soliloquized.
+"Very well, Unkie-dunk! While you're away, I shall manufacture a few
+bombs myself."
+
+After breakfast she left the house and walked to the intersection of B
+with Water Street. Jules Rondeau and his crew of lumberjacks were there,
+and with two policemen guarded the crossing.
+
+Rondeau glanced at Shirley, surprised, then lifted his hat. Shirley
+looked from the woods bully to the locomotive and back to Rondeau.
+
+"Rondeau," she said, "Mr. Cardigan is a bad man to fight. You fought him
+once. Are you going to do it again?"
+
+He nodded.
+
+"By whose orders?"
+
+"Mr. Sexton, he tell me to do it."
+
+"Well, Rondeau, some day I'll be boss of Laguna Grande and there'll
+be no more fighting," she replied, and passed on down B Street to the
+office of the Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company. Moira McTavish looked up
+as she entered.
+
+"Where is he, dear?" Shirley asked. "I must see him."
+
+"In that office, Miss Shirley," Moira replied, and pointed to the door.
+Shirley stepped to the door, knocked, and then entered. Bryce Cardigan,
+seated at his desk, looked up as she came in. His left arm was in a
+sling, and he looked harassed and dejected.
+
+"Don't get up, Bryce," she said as he attempted to rise. "I know you're
+quite exhausted. You look it." She sat down. "I'm so sorry," she said
+softly.
+
+His dull glance brightened. "It doesn't amount to that, Shirley." And he
+snapped his fingers. "It throbs a little and it's stiff and sore, so I
+carry it in the sling. That helps a little. What did you want to see me
+about?"
+
+"I wanted to tell you," said Shirley, "that--that last night's affair
+was not of my making." He smiled compassionately. "I--I couldn't bear to
+have you think I'd break my word and tell him."
+
+"It never occurred to me that you had dealt me a hand from the bottom of
+the deck, Shirley. Please don't worry about it. Your uncle has had two
+private detectives watching Ogilvy and me."
+
+"Oh!" she breathed, much relieved. A ghost of the old bantering smile
+lighted her winsome features. "Well, then," she challenged, "I suppose
+you don't hate me."
+
+"On the contrary, I love you," he answered. "However, since you must
+have known this for some time past, I suppose it is superfluous to
+mention it. Moreover, I haven't the right--yet."
+
+She had cast her eyes down modestly. She raised them now and looked at
+him searchingly. "I suppose you'll acknowledge yourself whipped at last,
+Bryce?" she ventured.
+
+"Would it please you to have me surrender?" He was very serious.
+
+"Indeed it would, Bryce."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because I'm tired of fighting. I want peace. I'm--I'm afraid to let
+this matter go any further. I'm truly afraid."
+
+"I think I want peace, too," he answered wearily. "I'd be glad to
+quit--with honour. And I'll do it, too, if you can induce your uncle to
+give me the kind of logging contract I want with his road."
+
+"I couldn't do that, Bryce. He has you whipped--and he is not merciful
+to the fallen. You'll have to--surrender unconditionally." Again she
+laid her little hand timidly on his wounded forearm. "Please give up,
+Bryce--for my sake. If you persist, somebody will get killed."
+
+"I suppose I'll have to," he murmured sadly. "I dare say you're
+right, though one should never admit defeat until he is counted out.
+I suppose," he continued bitterly, "your uncle is in high feather this
+morning."
+
+"I don't know, Bryce. He left in his motor for San Francisco about one
+o'clock this morning."
+
+For an instant Bryce Cardigan stared at her; then a slow, mocking little
+smile crept around the corners of his mouth, and his eyes lighted with
+mirth.
+
+"Glorious news, my dear Shirley, perfectly glorious! So the old fox has
+gone to San Francisco, eh? Left in a hurry and via the overland route!
+Couldn't wait for the regular passenger-steamer to-morrow, eh? Great
+jumping Jehoshaphat! He must have had important business to attend to."
+And Bryce commenced to chuckle. "Oh, the poor old Colonel," he continued
+presently, "the dear old pirate! What a horrible right swing he's
+running into! And you want me to acknowledge defeat! My dear girl, in
+the language of the classic, there is nothing doing. I shall put in my
+crossing Sunday morning, and if you don't believe it, drop around and
+see me in action."
+
+"You mustn't try," protested Shirley. "Rondeau is there with his
+crew--and he has orders to stop you. Besides, you can't expect help from
+the police. Uncle Seth has made a deal with the Mayor," Shirley pleaded
+frantically.
+
+"That for the police and that venal Mayor Poundstone!" Bryce retorted,
+with another snap of his fingers. "I'll rid the city of them at the fall
+election."
+
+"I came prepared to suggest a compromise, Bryce," she declared, but he
+interrupted her with a wave of his hand.
+
+"You can't effect a compromise. You've been telling me I shall never
+build the N.C.O. because you will not permit me to. You're powerless, I
+tell you. I shall build it."
+
+"You shan't!" she fired back at him, and a spot of anger glowed in each
+cheek. "You're the most stubborn and belligerent man I have ever known.
+Sometimes I almost hate you."
+
+"Come around at ten to-morrow morning and watch me put in the
+crossing--watch me give Rondeau and his gang the run." He reached over
+suddenly, lifted her hand, and kissed it. "How I love you, dear little
+antagonist!" he murmured.
+
+"If you loved me, you wouldn't oppose me," she protested softly. "I tell
+you again, Bryce, you make it very hard for me to be friendly with you."
+
+"I don't want to be friendly with you. You're driving me crazy,
+Shirley. Please run along home, or wherever you're bound. I've tried to
+understand your peculiar code, but you're too deep for me; so let me go
+my way to the devil. George Sea Otter is outside asleep in the tonneau
+of the car. Tell him to drive you wherever you're going. I suppose
+you're afoot to-day, for I noticed the Mayor riding to his office in
+your sedan this morning."
+
+She tried to look outraged, but for the life of her she could not
+take offense at his bluntness; neither did she resent a look which she
+detected in his eyes, even though it told her he was laughing at her.
+
+"Oh, very well," she replied with what dignity she could muster. "Have
+it your own way. I've tried to warn you. Thank you for your offer of
+the car. I shall be glad to use it. Uncle Seth sold my car to Mayor
+Poundstone last night. Mrs. P. admired it so!"
+
+"Ah! Then it was that rascally Poundstone who told your uncle about the
+temporary franchise, thus arousing his suspicions to such an extent that
+when he heard his locomotive rumbling into town, he smelled a rat and
+hurried down to the crossing?"
+
+"Possibly. The Poundstones dined at our house last night."
+
+"Pretty hard on you, I should say. But then I suppose you have to play
+the game with Uncle Seth. Well, good morning, Shirley. Sorry to hurry
+you away, but you must remember we're on a strictly business basis--yet;
+and you mustn't waste my time."
+
+"You're horrid, Bryce Cardigan."
+
+"You're adorable. Good morning."
+
+"You'll be sorry for this," she warned him. "Good morning." She passed
+out into the general office, visited with Moira about five minutes, and
+drove away in the Napier. Bryce watched her through the window. She
+knew he was watching her, but nevertheless she could not forbear turning
+round to verify her suspicions. When she did, he waved his sound arm at
+her, and she flushed with vexation.
+
+"God bless her!" he murmured. "She's been my ally all along, and I never
+suspected it! I wonder what her game can be."
+
+He sat musing for a long time. "Yes," he concluded presently, "old
+Poundstone has double-crossed us--and Pennington made it worth his
+while. And the Colonel sold the Mayor his niece's automobile. It's
+worth twenty-five hundred dollars, at least, and since old Poundstone's
+finances will not permit such an extravagance, I'm wondering how
+Pennington expects him to pay for it. I smell a rat as big as a
+kangaroo. In this case two and two don't make four. They make six! Guess
+I'll build a fire under old Poundstone."
+
+He took down the telephone-receiver and called up the Mayor. "Bryce
+Cardigan speaking, Mr. Poundstone," he greeted the chief executive of
+Sequoia.
+
+"Oh, hello, Bryce, my boy," Poundstone boomed affably. "How's tricks?"
+
+"So-so! I hear you've bought that sedan from Colonel Pennington's niece.
+Wish I'd known it was for sale. I'd have outbid you. Want to make a
+profit on your bargain?"
+
+"No, not this morning, Bryce. I think we'll keep it. Mrs. P. has been
+wanting a closed car for a long time, and when the Colonel offered me
+this one at a bargain, I snapped it up. Couldn't afford a new one, you
+know, but then this one's just as good as new."
+
+"And you don't care to get rid of it at a profit?" Bryce repeated.
+
+"No, sirree!"
+
+"Oh, you're mistaken, Mr. Mayor. I think you do. I would suggest that
+you take that car back to Pennington's garage and leave it there. That
+would be the most profitable thing you could do."
+
+"Wha--what--what in blue blazes are you driving at?" the Mayor
+sputtered.
+
+"I wouldn't care to discuss it over the telephone. I take it, however,
+that a hint to the wise is sufficient; and I warn you, Mayor, that if
+you keep that car it will bring you bad luck. To-day is Friday, and
+Friday is an unlucky day. I'd get rid of that sedan before noon if I
+were you."
+
+There was a long, fateful silence. Then in a singularly small, quavering
+voice: "You think it best, Cardigan?"
+
+"I do. Return it to No. 38 Redwood Boulevard, and no questions will be
+asked. Good-bye!"
+
+When Shirley reached home at noon, she found her car parked in front of
+the porte cochere; and a brief note, left with the butler, informed her
+that after thinking the matter over, Mrs. Poundstone had decided the
+Poundstone family could not afford such an extravagance, and accordingly
+the car was returned with many thanks for the opportunity to purchase it
+at such a ridiculously low figure. Shirley smiled, and put the car up in
+the garage. When she returned to the house her maid Thelma informed her
+that Mr. Bryce Cardigan had been calling her on the telephone. So she
+called Bryce up at once.
+
+"Has Poundstone returned your car?" he queried.
+
+"Why, yes. What makes you ask?"
+
+"Oh, I had a suspicion he might. You see, I called him up and suggested
+it; somehow His Honour is peculiarly susceptible to suggestions from me,
+and--"
+
+"Bryce Cardigan," she declared, "you're a sly rascal--that's what you
+are. I shan't tell you another thing."
+
+"I hope you had a stenographer at the dictograph when the Mayor and your
+uncle cooked up their little deal," he continued. "That was thoughtful
+of you, Shirley. It was a bully club to have up your sleeve at the final
+show-down, for with it you can make Unkie-dunk behave himself and force
+that compromise you spoke of. Seriously, however, I don't want you to
+use it, Shirley. We must avoid a scandal by all means; and praise be,
+I don't need your club to beat your uncle's brains out. I'm taking HIS
+club away from him to use for that purpose."
+
+"Really, I believe you're happy to-day."
+
+"Happy? I should tell a man! If the streets of Sequoia were paved with
+eggs, I could walk them all day without making an omelette."
+
+"It must be nice to feel so happy, after so many months of the blues."
+
+"Indeed it is, Shirley. You see until very recently I was very much
+worried as to your attitude toward me. I couldn't believe you'd so far
+forget yourself as to love me in spite of everything--so I never took
+the trouble to ask you. And now I don't have to ask you. I know! And
+I'll be around to see you after I get that crossing in!"
+
+"You're perfectly horrid," she blazed, and hung up without the formality
+of saying good-bye.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+
+Shortly after Shirley's departure from his office, Bryce had a visit
+from Buck Ogilvy. The latter wore a neatly pressed suit of Shepherd
+plaid, with a white carnation in his lapel, and he was, apparently, the
+most light-hearted young man in Humboldt County. He struck an attitude
+and demanded:
+
+"Boss, what do you think of my new suit?"
+
+"You lunatic! Don't you know red blonds should never wear light shades?
+You're dressed like a Negro minstrel."
+
+"Well, I feel as happy as an end-man. And by the way, you're all chirked
+up yourself. Who's been helping you to the elixir of life. When
+we parted last night, you were forty fathoms deep in the slough of
+despond."
+
+"No less a divinity than Miss Shirley Sumner! She called this morning
+to explain that last night's fiasco was none of her making, and quite
+innocently she imparted the information that old Pennington lighted out
+for San Francisco at one o'clock this morning. Wherefore I laugh. Te-he!
+Ha-hah!"
+
+"Three long, loud raucous cheers for Uncle. He's gone to rush a
+restraining order through the United States District Court. Wonder why
+he didn't wire his attorneys to attend to the matter for him."
+
+"He has the crossing blocked, and inasmuch as the Mayor feeds out of
+Pennington's hand, the Colonel is quite confident that said crossing
+will remain blocked, As for the restraining order--well, if one wants a
+thing well done, one should do it oneself."
+
+"All that doesn't explain your cheerful attitude, though."
+
+"Oh, but it does. I've told you about old Duncan McTavish, Moira's
+father, haven't I?" Ogilvy nodded, and Bryce continued: "When I fired
+the old scoundrel for boozing, it almost broke his heart; he had to
+leave Humboldt, where everybody knew him, so he wandered down into
+Mendocino County and got a job sticking lumber in the drying-yard of
+the Willits Lumber Company. He's been there two months now, and I am
+informed by his employer that old Mac hasn't taken a drink in all that
+time. And what's more, he isn't going to take one again."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"Because I make it my business to find out. Mac was the finest
+woods-boss this county ever knew; hence you do not assume that I would
+lose the old scoundrel without making a fight for him, do you? Why,
+Buck, he's been on the Cardigan pay-roll thirty years, and I only fired
+him in order to reform him. Well, last week I sent one of Mac's old
+friends down to Willits purposely to call on him and invite him out
+'for a time'; but Mac wouldn't drink with him. No, sir, he couldn't be
+tempted. On the contrary, he told the tempter that I had promised to
+give him back his job if he remained on the water wagon for one year; he
+was resolved to win back his job and his self-respect."
+
+"I know what your plan is," Ogilvy interrupted. "You're going to ask
+Duncan McTavish to waylay Pennington on the road at some point where it
+runs through the timber, kidnap him, and hold him until we have had time
+to clear the crossing and cut Pennington's tracks.
+
+"We will do nothing of the sort," Buck continued seriously. "Listen,
+now, to Father's words of wisdom. This railroad-game is an old one
+to me; I've fought at crossings before now, and whether successful or
+defeated, I have always learned something in battle. Didn't you hear me
+tell that girl and her villainous avuncular relative last night that I
+had another ace up my kimono?"
+
+Bryce nodded.
+
+"That was not brag, old dear. I had the ace, and this morning I
+played it--wherefore in my heart there is that peace that passeth
+understanding--particularly since I have just had a telegram informing
+me that my ace took the odd trick."
+
+He opened a drawer in Bryce's desk and reached for the cigars he knew
+were there.
+
+"Not at all a bad cigar for ten cents. However--you will recall that
+from the very instant we decided to cut in that jump-crossing, we
+commenced to plan against interference by Pennington; in consequence we
+kept, or tried to keep, our decision a secret. However, there existed at
+all times the possibility that Pennington might discover our benevolent
+intentions and block us with his only weapon--a restraining order issued
+by the judge of the United States District Court.
+
+"Now, one of the most delightful things I know about a court is that it
+is open to all men seeking justice--or injustice disguised as justice.
+Also there is a wise old saw to the effect that battles are won by the
+fellow who gets there first with the most men. The situation from the
+start was absurdly simple. If Pennington got to the District Court
+first, we were lost!"
+
+"You mean you got there first?" exclaimed Bryce.
+
+"I did--by the very simple method of preparing to get there first in
+case anything slipped. Something did slip--last night! However, I was
+ready; so all I had to do was press the button, for as Omar Khayyam
+remarked: 'What shall it avail a man if he buyeth a padlock for his
+stable after his favourite stallion hath been lifted?' Several days
+ago, my boy, I wrote a long letter to our attorney in San Francisco
+explaining every detail of our predicament; the instant I received that
+temporary franchise from the city council, I mailed a certified copy
+of it to our attorney also. Then, in anticipation of our discovery
+by Pennington, I instructed the attorney to prepare the complaint and
+petition for a restraining order against Seth Pennington et al. and
+stand by to rush the judge with it the instant he heard from me!
+
+"Well, about the time old Pennington started for San Francisco this
+morning, I had our attorney out of bed and on the long-distance
+telephone; at nine o'clock this morning he appeared in the United States
+District Court; at nine-fifteen the judge signed a restraining order
+forbidding our enemies to interfere with us in the exercise of a right
+legally granted us by the city of Sequoia, and at nine-thirty a deputy
+United States marshal started in an automobile for Sequoia, via the
+overland route. He will arrive late to-morrow night, and on Sunday we
+will get that locomotive out of our way and install our crossing."
+
+"And Pennington--"
+
+"Ah, the poor Pennington! Mon pauvre Seth!" Buck sighed comically. "He
+will be just twenty-four hours late."
+
+"You old he-fox!" Bryce murmured. "You wicked, wicked man!"
+
+Buck Ogilvy lifted his lapel and sniffed luxuriously at his white
+carnation, the while a thin little smile played around the corners of
+his humorous mouth. "Ah," he murmured presently, "life's pretty sweet,
+isn't it!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+
+Events followed each other with refreshing rapidity. While the crew of
+the big locomotive on the crossing busied themselves getting up steam,
+Sexton and Jules Rondeau toiled at the loading of the discarded boiler
+and heavy castings aboard two flat-cars. By utilizing the steel derrick
+on the company's wrecking-car, this task was completed by noon, and
+after luncheon the mogul backed up the main line past the switch into
+the Laguna Grande yards; whereupon the switch-engine kicked the two
+flat-cars and the wrecking-car out of the yard and down to the crossing,
+where the obstructions were promptly unloaded. The police watched
+the operation with alert interest but forebore to interfere in this
+high-handed closing of a public thoroughfare.
+
+To Sexton's annoyance and secret apprehension, Bryce Cardigan and Buck
+Ogilvy promptly appeared on the scene, both very cheerful and lavish
+with expert advice as to the best method of expediting the job in hand.
+To Bryce's surprise Jules Rondeau appeared to take secret enjoyment of
+this good-natured chaffing of the Laguna Grande manager. Occasionally
+he eyed Bryce curiously but without animus, and presently he flashed the
+latter a lightning wink, as if to say: "What a fool Sexton is to oppose
+you!"
+
+"Well, Rondeau," Bryce hailed the woods-boss cheerfully, "I see you have
+quite recovered from that working over I gave you some time ago. No hard
+feelings, I trust. I shouldn't care to have that job to do over again.
+You're a tough one."
+
+"By gar, she don' pay for have hard feelings wiz you, M'sieur," Rondeau
+answered bluntly. "We have one fine fight, but"--he shrugged--"I don'
+want some more."
+
+"Yes, by gar, an' she don' pay for cut other people's trees, M'sieur,"
+Bryce mimicked him. "I shouldn't wonder if I took the value of that tree
+out of your hide."
+
+"I t'enk so, M'sieur." He approached Bryce and lowered his voice. "For
+one month I am no good all ze tam. We don' fight some more, M'sieur. And
+I have feel ashame' for dose Black Minorca feller. Always wiz him eet
+is ze knife or ze club--and now eet is ze rifle. COCHON! W'en I fight, I
+fight wiz what le bon Dieu give me."
+
+"You appear to have a certain code, after all," Bryce laughed. "I am
+inclined to like you for it. You're sporty in your way, you tremendous
+scoundrel!"
+
+"Mebbeso," Rondeau suggested hopefully, "M'sieur likes me for
+woods-boss?"
+
+"Why, what's the matter with Pennington? Is he tired of you?"
+
+The colour mounted slowly to the woods bully's swarthy cheek.
+"Mademoiselle Sumnair, he's tell me pretty soon he's goin' be boss of
+Laguna Grande an' stop all thees fight. An' w'en Mademoiselle, he is in
+the saddle, good-bye Jules Rondeau. Thees country--I like him. I feel
+sad, M'sieur, to leave dose beeg trees." He paused, looking rather
+wistfully at Bryce. "I am fine woods-boss for somebody," he suggested
+hopefully.
+
+"You think Miss Sumner dislikes you then, Rondeau?"
+
+"I don' theenk. I know." He sighed; his huge body seemed to droop. "I
+am out of zee good luck now," he murmured bitterly. "Everybody, she hate
+Jules Rondeau. Colonel--she hate because I don' keel M'sieur Cardigan;
+Mademoiselle, he hate because I try to keel M'sieur Cardigan; M'sieur
+Sexton, she hate because I tell her thees mornin' she is one fool for
+fight M'sieur Cardigan."
+
+Again he sighed. "Dose beeg trees! In Quebec we have none. In zee woods,
+M'sieur, I feel--here!" And he laid his great calloused, hairy hand over
+his heart. "W'en I cut your beeg trees, M'sieur, I feel like hell."
+
+"That infernal gorilla of a man is a poet," Buck Ogilvy declared. "I'd
+think twice before I let him get out of the country, Bryce."
+
+"'Whose salt he eats, his song he sings,'" quoth Bryce. "I forgive you,
+Rondeau, and when I need a woods-boss like you, I'll send for you."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+
+At eleven o'clock Saturday night the deputy United States marshal
+arrived in Sequoia. Upon the advice of Buck Ogilvy, however, he made
+no attempt at service that night, notwithstanding the fact that Jules
+Rondeau and his bullies still guarded the crossing. At eight o'clock
+Sunday morning, however, Bryce Cardigan drove him down to the crossing.
+Buck Ogilvy was already there with his men, superintending the erection
+of a huge derrick close to the heap of obstructions placed on the
+crossing. Sexton was watching him uneasily, and flushed as Ogilvy
+pointed him out to the marshal.
+
+"There's your meat, Marshal," he announced. The marshal approached
+and extended toward Sexton a copy of the restraining order. The latter
+struck it aside and refused to accept it--whereupon the deputy marshal
+tapped him on the shoulder with it. "Tag! You're out of the game, my
+friend," he said pleasantly.
+
+As the document fluttered to Sexton's feet, the latter turned to Jules
+Rondeau. "I can no longer take charge here, Rondeau," he explained. "I
+am forbidden to interfere."
+
+"Jules Rondeau can do ze job," the woods-boss replied easily. "Ze law,
+she have not restrain' me. I guess mebbeso you don' take dose theengs
+away, eh, M'sieur Cardigan. Myself, I lak see."
+
+The deputy marshal handed Rondeau a paper, at the same time showing his
+badge. "You're out, too, my friend," he laughed. "Don't be foolish and
+try to buck the law. If you do, I shall have to place a nice little pair
+of handcuffs on you and throw you in jail--and if you resist arrest, I
+shall have to shoot you. I have one of these little restraining
+orders for every able-bodied man in the Laguna Grande Lumber Company's
+employ--thanks to Mr. Ogilvy's foresight; so it is useless to try to
+beat this game on a technicality."
+
+Sexton, who still lingered, made a gesture of surrender. "Dismiss your
+crew, Rondeau," he ordered. "We're whipped to a frazzle."
+
+A gleam of pleasure, not unmixed with triumph, lighted the dark eyes
+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."
+
+"I will have my time," said Jules Rondeau patiently.
+
+"Then you'll wait till pay-day for it, Rondeau. You know our rules. Any
+man who quits without notice waits until the regular pay-day for his
+money."
+
+Jules advanced until he towered directly over the manager. "I tol'
+M'sieur I would have my time," he repeated once more. "Is M'sieur deaf
+in zee ears?" He raised his right hand, much as a bear raises its paw;
+his blunt fingers worked a little and there was a smoldering fire in his
+dark eyes.
+
+Without further protest Sexton opened the safe, counted out the wages
+due, and took Rondeau's receipt.
+
+"Thank you, M'sieur," the woods-boss growled as he swept the coin into
+his pocket. "Now I work for M'sieur Cardigan; so, M'sieur, I will have
+zee switchengine weeth two flat-cars and zee wrecking-car. Doze dam
+trash on zee crossing--M'sieur Cardigan does not like, and by gar, I
+take heem away. You onderstand, M'sieur? I am Jules Rondeau, and I
+work for M'sieur Cardigan. La la, M'sieur!" The great hand closed over
+Sexton's collar. "Not zee pistol--no, not for Jules Rondeau."
+
+Quite as easily as a woman dresses a baby, he gagged Sexton with
+Sexton's own handkerchief, laid him gently on the floor and departed,
+locking the door behind him and taking the key. At the corner of the
+building, where the telephone-line entered the office, he paused, jerked
+once at the wire, and passed on, leaving the broken ends on the ground.
+
+In the round-house he found the switch-engine crew on duty, waiting for
+steam in the boiler. The withdrawal of both locomotives, brief as had
+been their absence, had caused a glut of logs at the Laguna Grande
+landings, and Sexton was catching up with the traffic by sending the
+switch-engine crew out for one train-load, even though it was Sunday.
+The crew had been used to receiving orders from Rondeau, and moreover
+they were not aware of his recent action; hence at his command they ran
+the switch-engine out of the roundhouse, coupled up the two flat-cars
+and the wrecking-car, and backed down to the crossing. Upon arrival,
+Jules Rondeau leaned out of the cab window and hailed Bryce.
+"M'sieur," he said, "do not bozzer to make zee derrick. I have here zee
+wrecking-car--all you need; pretty soon we lift him off zee crossing, I
+tell you, eh, M'sieur Cardigan?"
+
+Bryce stepped over to the switch-engine and looked up at his late enemy.
+"By whose orders is this train here?" he queried.
+
+"Mine," Rondeau answered. "M'sieur Sexton I have tie like one leetle pig
+and lock her in her office. I work now for M'sieur."
+
+And he did. He waited not for a confirmation from his new master but
+proceeded to direct operations like the born driver and leader of
+men that he was. With his late employer's gear he fastened to the
+old castings and the boiler, lifted them with the derrick on the
+wrecking-car, and swung them up and around onto the flat-cars. By the
+middle of the afternoon the crossing was once more clear. Then the
+Cardigan crew fell upon it while Jules Rondeau ran the train back to the
+Laguna Grande yards, dismissed his crew, returned to the mill-office,
+and released the manager.
+
+"You'll pay through the nose for this, you scoundrel," Sexton whimpered.
+"I'll fix you, you traitor."
+
+"You feex nothing, M'sieur Sexton," Rondeau replied imperturbably. "Who
+is witness Jules Rondeau tie you up? Somebody see you, no? I guess you
+don' feex me. Sacre! I guess you don' try."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+
+Colonel Pennington's discovery at San Francisco that Bryce Cardigan had
+stolen his thunder and turned the bolt upon him, was the hardest blow
+Seth Pennington could remember having received throughout thirty-odd
+years of give and take. He was too old and experienced a campaigner,
+however, to permit a futile rage to cloud his reason; he prided himself
+upon being a foeman worthy of any man's steel.
+
+On Tuesday he returned to Sequoia. Sexton related to him in detail the
+events which had transpired since his departure, but elicited nothing
+more than a noncommittal grunt.
+
+"There is one more matter, sir, which will doubtless be of interest to
+you," Sexton continued apologetically. "Miss Sumner called me on the
+telephone yesterday and instructed me formally to notify the board
+of directors of the Laguna Grande Company of a special meeting of the
+board, to be held here at two o'clock this afternoon. In view of the
+impossibility of communicating with you while you were en route, I
+conformed to her wishes. Our by-laws, as you know, stipulate that no
+meeting of the board shall be called without formal written notice to
+each director mailed twenty-four hours previously."
+
+"What the devil do you mean, Sexton, by conforming to her wishes? Miss
+Sumner is not a director of this company." Pennington's voice was harsh
+and trembled with apprehension.
+
+"Miss Sumner controls forty per cent. of the Laguna Grande stock, sir. I
+took that into consideration."
+
+"You lie!" Pennington all but screamed. "You took into consideration
+your job as secretary and general manager. Damnation!"
+
+He rose and commenced pacing up and down his office. Suddenly he paused.
+Sexton still stood beside his desk, watching him respectfully. "You
+fool!" he snarled. "Get out of here and leave me alone."
+
+Sexton departed promptly, glancing at his watch as he did so. It lacked
+five minutes of two. He passed Shirley Sumner in the general office.
+
+"Shirley," Pennington began in a hoarse voice as she entered his office,
+"what is the meaning of this directors' meeting you have requested?"
+
+"Be seated, Uncle Seth," the girl answered quietly. "If you will only
+be quiet and reasonable, perhaps we can dispense with this directors'
+meeting which appears to frighten you so."
+
+He sat down promptly, a look of relief on his face.
+
+"I scarcely know how to begin, Uncle Seth," Shirley commenced sadly. "It
+hurts me terribly to be forced to hurt you, but there doesn't appear to
+be any other way out of it. I cannot trust you to manage my financial
+affairs in the future--this for a number of reasons, the principal one
+being--"
+
+"Young Cardigan," he interrupted in a low voice.
+
+"I suppose so," she answered, "although I did think until very recently
+that it was those sixteen townships of red cedar--that crown grant in
+British Columbia in which you induced me to invest four hundred thousand
+dollars. You will remember that you purchased that timber for me from
+the Caribou Timber Company, Limited. You said it was an unparalleled
+investment. Quite recently I learned--no matter how--that you were the
+principal owner of the Caribou Timber Company, Limited! Smart as you
+are, somebody swindled you with that red cedar. It was a wonderful stand
+of timber--so read the cruiser's report--but fifty per cent. of it,
+despite its green and flourishing appearance, is hollow-butted! And the
+remaining fifty per cent. of sound timber cannot be logged unless the
+rotten timber is logged also and gotten out of the way also. And I am
+informed that logging it spells bankruptcy."
+
+She gazed upon him steadily, but without malice; his face crimsoned and
+then paled; presently his glance sought the carpet. While he struggled
+to formulate a verbal defense against her accusation Shirley continued:
+
+"You had erected a huge sawmill and built and equipped a logging-road
+before you discovered you had been swindled. So, in order to save
+as much as possible from the wreck, you decided to unload your white
+elephant on somebody else. I was the readiest victim. You were the
+executor of my father's estate--you were my guardian and financial
+adviser, and so you found it very, very easy to swindle me!"
+
+"I had my back to the wall," he quavered. "I was desperate--and it
+wasn't at all the bad investment you have been told it is. You had the
+money--more money than you knew what to do with--and with the proceeds
+of the sale of those cedar lands, I knew I could make an investment in
+California redwood and more than retrieve my fortunes--make big money
+for both of us."
+
+"You might have borrowed the money from me. You know I have never
+hesitated to join in your enterprises."
+
+"This was too big a deal for you, Shirley. I had vision. I could see
+incalculable riches in this redwood empire, but it was a tremendous
+gamble and required twenty millions to swing it at the very start. I
+dreamed of the control of California redwood; and if you will stand by
+me, Shirley, I shall yet make my dream come true--and half of it shall
+be yours. It has always been my intention to buy back from you secretly
+and at a nice profit to you that Caribou red cedar, and with the
+acquisition of the Cardigan properties I would have been in position to
+do so. Why, that Cardigan tract in the San Hedrin which we will buy in
+within a year for half a million is worth five millions at least. And
+by that time, I feel certain--in fact, I know--the Northern Pacific will
+commence building in from the south, from Willits."
+
+She silenced him with a disdainful gesture. "You shall not smash the
+Cardigans," she declared firmly.
+
+"I shall--" he began, but he paused abruptly, as if he had suddenly
+remembered that tact and not pugnacity was the requirement for the
+handling of this ticklish situation.
+
+"You are devoid of mercy, of a sense of sportsmanship. Now, then, Uncle
+Seth, listen to me: You have twenty-four hours in which to make up your
+mind whether to accept my ultimatum or refuse it. If you refuse, I shall
+prosecute you for fraud and a betrayal of trust as my father's executor
+on that red-cedar timber deal."
+
+He brightened a trifle. "I'm afraid that would be a long, hard row to
+hoe, my dear, and of course, I shall have to defend myself."
+
+"In addition," the girl went on quietly, "the county grand jury shall
+be furnished with a stenographic report of your conversation of Thursday
+night with Mayor Poundstone. That will not be a long, hard row to hoe,
+Uncle Seth, for in addition to the stenographer, I have another very
+reliable witness, Judge Moore. Your casual disposal of my sedan as a
+bribe to the Mayor will be hard to explain and rather amusing, in view
+of the fact that Bryce Cardigan managed to frighten Mr. Poundstone into
+returning the sedan while you were away. And if that is not sufficient
+for my purposes, I have the sworn confession of the Black Minorca
+that you gave him five hundred dollars to kill Bryce Cardigan. Your
+woods-boss, Rondeau, will also swear that you approached him with a
+proposition to do away with Bryce Cardigan. I think, therefore, that you
+will readily see how impossible a situation you have managed to create
+and will not disagree with me when I suggest that it would be better for
+you to leave this county."
+
+His face had gone gray and haggard. "I can't," he murmured, "I can't
+leave this great business now. Your own interests in the company render
+such a course unthinkable. Without my hand at the helms, things will go
+to smash."
+
+"I'll risk that. I want to get rid of that worthless red-cedar timber;
+so I think you had better buy it back from me at the same figure at
+which, you sold it to me."
+
+"But I haven't the money and I can't borrow it. I--I---"
+
+"I will have the equivalent in stock of the Laguna Grande Lumber
+Company. You will call on Judge Moore to complete the transaction and
+leave with him your resignation as president of the Laguna Grande Lumber
+Company."
+
+The Colonel raised his glance and bent it upon her in cold appraisal.
+She met it with firmness, and the thought came to him: "She is a
+Pennington!" And hope died out in his heart. He began pleading in
+maudlin fashion for mercy, for compromise. But the girl was obdurate.
+
+"I am showing you more mercy than you deserve--you to whom mercy was
+ever a sign of weakness, of vacillation. There is a gulf between us,
+Uncle Seth--a gulf which for a long time I have dimly sensed and which,
+because of my recent discoveries, has widened until it can no longer be
+bridged."
+
+He wrung his hands in desperation and suddenly slid to his knees before
+her; with hypocritical endearments he strove to take her hand, but
+she drew away from him. "Don't touch me," she cried sharply and with a
+breaking note in her voice. "You planned to kill Bryce Cardigan! And for
+that--and that alone--I shall never forgive you."
+
+She fled from the office, leaving him cringing and grovelling on the
+floor. "There will be no directors' meeting, Mr. Sexton," she informed
+the manager as she passed through the general office. "It is postponed."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+
+That trying interview with her uncle had wrenched Shirley's soul to
+a degree that left her faint and weak. She at once set out on a long
+drive, in the hope that before she turned homeward again she might
+regain something of her customary composure.
+
+Presently the asphaltum-paved street gave way to a dirt road and
+terminated abruptly at the boundaries of a field that sloped gently
+upward--a field studded with huge black redwood stumps showing dismally
+through coronets of young redwoods that grew riotously around the
+base of the departed parent trees. From the fringe of the thicket thus
+formed, the terminus of an old skid-road showed and a signboard, freshly
+painted, pointed the way to the Valley of the Giants.
+
+Shirley had not intended to come here, but now that she had arrived, it
+occurred to her that it was here she wanted to come. Parking her car by
+the side of the road, she alighted and proceeded up the old skid, now
+newly planked and with the encroaching forestration cut away so that the
+daylight might enter from above. On over the gentle divide she went and
+down toward the amphitheatre where the primeval giants grew. And as she
+approached it, the sound that is silence in the redwoods--the
+thunderous diapason of the centuries--wove its spell upon her; quickly,
+imperceptibly there faded from her mind the memory of that grovelling
+Thing she had left behind in the mill-office, and in its place there
+came a subtle peace, a feeling of awe, of wonder--such a feeling,
+indeed, as must come to one in the realization that man is distant but
+God is near.
+
+A cluster of wild orchids pendent from the great fungus-covered roots
+of a giant challenged her attention. She gathered them. Farther on, in
+a spot where a shaft of sunlight fell, she plucked an armful of golden
+California poppies and flaming rhododendron, and with her delicate
+burden she came at length to the giant-guarded clearing where the halo
+of sunlight fell upon the grave of Bryce Cardigan's mother. There were
+red roses on it--a couple of dozen, at least, and these she rearranged
+in order to make room for her own offering.
+
+"Poor dear!" she murmured audibly. "God didn't spare you for much
+happiness, did He?"
+
+A voice, deep, resonant, kindly, spoke a few feet away. "Who is it?"
+
+Shirley, startled, turned swiftly. Seated across the little amphitheatre
+in a lumberjack's easy-chair fashioned from an old barrel, John Cardigan
+sat, his sightless gaze bent upon her. "Who is it?" he repeated.
+
+"Shirley Sumner," she answered. "You do not know me, Mr. Cardigan."
+
+"No," replied he, "I do not. That is a name I have heard, however. You
+are Seth Pennington's niece. Is someone with you?"
+
+"I am quite alone, Mr. Cardigan."
+
+"And why did you come here alone?" he queried.
+
+"I--I wanted to think."
+
+"You mean you wanted to think clearly, my dear. Ah, yes, this is the
+place for thoughts." He was silent a moment. Then: "You were thinking
+aloud, Miss Shirley Sumner. I heard you. You said: 'Poor dear, God
+didn't spare you for much happiness, did He?' And I think you rearranged
+my roses. Didn't I have them on her grave?"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Cardigan. I was merely making room for some wild flowers I had
+gathered."
+
+"Indeed. Then you knew--about her being here."
+
+"Yes, sir. Some ten years ago, when I was a very little girl, I met your
+son Bryce. He gave me a ride on his Indian pony, and we came here. So I
+remember."
+
+"Well, I declare! Ten years ago, eh? You've met, eh? You've met Bryce
+since his return to Sequoia, I believe. He's quite a fellow now."
+
+"He is indeed."
+
+John Cardigan nodded sagely. "So that's why you thought aloud," he
+remarked impersonally. "Bryce told you about her. You are right, Miss
+Shirley Sumner. God didn't give her much time for happiness--just three
+years; but oh, such wonderful years! Such wonderful years!
+
+"It was mighty fine of you to bring flowers," he announced presently.
+"I appreciate that. I wish I could see you. You must be a dear, nice,
+thoughtful girl. Won't you sit down and talk to me?"
+
+"I should be glad to," she answered, and seated herself on the brown
+carpet of redwood twigs close to his chair.
+
+"So you came up here to do a little clear thinking," he continued in his
+deliberate, amiable tones. "Do you come here often?"
+
+"This is the third time in ten years," she answered. "I feel that I have
+no business to intrude here. This is your shrine, and strangers should
+not profane it."
+
+"I think I should have resented the presence of any other person, Miss
+Sumner. I resented you--until you spoke."
+
+"I'm glad you said that, Mr. Cardigan. It sets me at ease."
+
+"I hadn't been up here for nearly two years until recently. You see I--I
+don't own the Valley of the Giants any more."
+
+"Indeed. To whom have you sold it?"
+
+"I do not know, Miss Sumner. I had to sell; there was no other way out
+of the jam Bryce and I were in; so I sacrificed my sentiment for my boy.
+However, the new owner has been wonderfully kind and thoughtful. She
+reorganized that old skid-road so even an old blind duffer like me
+can find his way in and out without getting lost--and she had this
+easy-chair made for me. I have told Judge Moore, who represents the
+unknown owner, to extend my thanks to his client. But words are so
+empty, Shirley Sumner. If that new owner could only understand how truly
+grateful I am--how profoundly her courtesy touches me--"
+
+"HER courtesy?" Shirley echoed. "Did a woman buy the Giants?"
+
+He smiled down at her. "Why, certainly. Who but a woman--and a dear,
+kind, thoughtful woman--would have thought to have this chair made and
+brought up here for me?"
+
+Fell a long silence between them; then John Cardigan's trembling hand
+went groping out toward the girl's. "Why, how stupid of me not to have
+guessed it immediately!" he said. "You are the new owner. My dear
+child, if the silent prayers of a very unhappy old man will bring God's
+blessing on you--there, there, girl! I didn't intend to make you weep.
+What a tender heart it is, to be sure!"
+
+She took his great toil-worn hand, and her hot tears fell on it, for his
+gentleness, his benignancy, had touched her deeply. "Oh, you must not
+tell anybody! You mustn't," she cried.
+
+He put his hand on her shoulder as she knelt before him. "Good land
+of love, girl, what made you do it? Why should a girl like you give
+a hundred thousand dollars for my Valley of the Giants? Were
+you"--hesitatingly--"your uncle's agent?"
+
+"No, I bought it myself--with my own money. My uncle doesn't know I am
+the new owner. You see, he wanted it--for nothing."
+
+"Ah, yes. I suspected as much a long time ago. Your uncle is the modern
+type of business man. Not very much of an idealist, I'm afraid. But tell
+me why you decided to thwart the plans of your relative."
+
+"I knew it hurt you terribly to sell your Giants; they were dear to
+you for sentimental reasons. I understood, also, why you were forced to
+sell; so I--well, I decided the Giants would be safer in my possession
+than in my uncle's. In all probability he would have logged this valley
+for the sake of the clear seventy-two-inch boards he could get from
+these trees."
+
+"That does not explain satisfactorily, to me, why you took sides with a
+stranger against your own kin," John Cardigan persisted. "There must be
+a deeper and more potent reason, Miss Shirley Sumner."
+
+"Well," Shirley made answer, glad that he could not see the flush of
+confusion and embarrassment that crimsoned her cheek, "when I came to
+Sequoia last May, your son and I met, quite accidentally. The stage to
+Sequoia had already gone, and he was gracious enough to invite me to
+make the journey in his car. Then we recalled having met as children,
+and presently I gathered from his conversation that he and his
+John-partner, as he called you, were very dear to each other. I was
+witness to your meeting that night--I saw him take you in his big arms
+and hold you tight because you'd--gone blind while he was away having a
+good time. And you hadn't told him! I thought that was brave of you;
+and later, when Bryce and Moira McTavish told me about you--how kind
+you were, how you felt your responsibility toward your employees and the
+community--well, I just couldn't help a leaning toward John-partner and
+John-partner's boy, because the boy was so fine and true to his father's
+ideals."
+
+"Ah, he's a man. He is indeed," old John Cardigan murmured proudly. "I
+dare say you'll never get to know him intimately, but if you should--"
+
+"I know him intimately," she corrected him. "He saved my life the day
+the log-train ran away. And that was another reason. I owed him a debt,
+and so did my uncle; but Uncle wouldn't pay his share, and I had to pay
+for him."
+
+"Wonderful," murmured John Cardigan, "wonderful! But still you haven't
+told me why you paid a hundred thousand dollars for the Giants when you
+could have bought them for fifty thousand. You had a woman's reason,
+I dare say, and women always reason from the heart, never the head.
+However, if you do not care to tell me, I shall not insist. Perhaps I
+have appeared, unduly inquisitive."
+
+"I would rather not tell you," she answered.
+
+A gentle, prescient smile fringed his old mouth; he wagged his leonine
+head as if to say: "Why should I ask, when I know?" Fell again a restful
+silence. Then:
+
+"Am I allowed one guess, Miss Shirley Sumner?"
+
+"Yes, but you would never guess the reason."
+
+"I am a very wise old man. When one sits in the dark, one sees much that
+was hidden from him in the full glare of the light. My son is proud,
+manly, independent, and the soul of honour. He needed a hundred thousand
+dollars; you knew it. Probably your uncle informed you. You wanted to
+loan him some money, but--you couldn't. You feared to offend him by
+proffering it; had you proffered it, he would have declined it. So you
+bought my Valley of the Giants at a preposterous price and kept your
+action a secret." And he patted her hand gently, as if to silence
+any denial, while far down the skid-road a voice--a half-trained
+baritone--floated faintly to them through the forest. Somebody was
+singing--or rather chanting--a singularly tuneless refrain, wild and
+barbaric.
+
+"What is that?" Shirley cried.
+
+"That is my son, coming to fetch his old daddy home," replied John
+Cardigan. "That thing he's howling is an Indian war-song or paean of
+triumph--something his nurse taught him when he wore pinafores. If
+you'll excuse me, Miss Shirley Sumner, I'll leave you now. I generally
+contrive to meet him on the trail."
+
+He bade her good-bye and started down the trail, his stick tapping
+against the old logging-cable stretched from tree to tree beside the
+trail and marking it.
+
+Shirley was tremendously relieved. She did not wish to meet Bryce
+Cardigan to-day, and she was distinctly grateful to John Cardigan for
+his nice consideration in sparing her an interview. She seated herself
+in the lumberjack's easy-chair so lately vacated, and chin in hand
+gave herself up to meditation on this extraordinary old man and his
+extraordinary son.
+
+A couple of hundred yards down the trail Bryce met his father. "Hello,
+John Cardigan!" he called. "What do you mean by skallyhooting through
+these woods without a pilot? Eh? Explain your reckless conduct."
+
+"You great overgrown duffer," his father retorted affectionately,
+"I thought you'd never come." He reached into his pocket for a
+handkerchief, but failed to find it and searched through another pocket
+and still another. "By gravy, son," he remarked presently, "I do
+believe I left my silk handkerchief--the one Moira gave me for my last
+birthday--up yonder. I wouldn't lose that handkerchief for a farm. Skip
+along and find it for me, son. I'll wait for you here. Don't hurry."
+
+"I'll be back in a pig's whisper," his son replied, and started briskly
+up the trail, while his father leaned against a madrone tree and smiled
+his prescient little smile.
+
+Bryce's brisk step on the thick carpet of withered brown twigs aroused
+Shirley from her reverie. When she looked up, he was standing in the
+centre of the little amphitheatre gazing at her.
+
+"You--you!" she stammered, and rose as if to flee from him.
+
+"The governor sent me back to look for his handkerchief, Shirley," he
+explained. "He didn't tell me you were here. Guess he didn't hear you."
+He advanced smilingly toward her. "I'm tremendously glad to see you
+to-day, Shirley," he said, and paused beside her. "Fate has been
+singularly kind to me. Indeed, I've been pondering all day as to just
+how I was to arrange a private and confidential little chat with you,
+without calling upon you at your uncle's house."
+
+"I don't feel like chatting to-day," she answered a little drearily--and
+then he noted her wet lashes. Instantly he was on one knee beside her;
+with the amazing confidence that had always distinguished him in her
+eyes, his big left arm went around her, and when her hands went to her
+face, he drew them gently away.
+
+"I've waited too long, sweetheart," he murmured. "Thank God, I can tell
+you at last all the things that have been accumulating in my heart.
+I love you, Shirley. I've loved you from that first day we met at the
+station, and all these months of strife and repression have merely
+served to make me love you the more. Perhaps you have been all the
+dearer to me because you seemed so hopelessly unattainable."
+
+He drew her head down on his breast; his great hand patted her hot
+cheek; his honest brown eyes gazed earnestly, wistfully into hers. "I
+love you," he whispered. "All that I have--all that I am--all that I
+hope to be--I offer to you, Shirley Sumner; and in the shrine of
+my heart I shall hold you sacred while life shall last. You are not
+indifferent to me, dear. I know you're not; but tell me--answer me--"
+
+Her violet eyes were uplifted to his, and in them he read the answer to
+his cry. "Ah, may I?" he murmured, and kissed her.
+
+"Oh, my dear, impulsive, gentle big sweetheart," she whispered--and then
+her arms went around his neck, and the fullness of her happiness found
+vent in tears he did not seek to have her repress. In the safe haven of
+his arms she rested; and there, quite without effort or distress, she
+managed to convey to him something more than an inkling of the thoughts
+that were wont to come to her whenever they met.
+
+"Oh, my love!" he cried happily, "I hadn't dared dream of such happiness
+until to-day. You were so unattainable--the obstacles between us were so
+many and so great--"
+
+"Why to-day, Bryce?" she interrupted him.
+
+He took her adorable little nose in his great thumb and forefinger and
+tweaked it gently. "The light began to dawn yesterday, my dear little
+enemy, following an interesting half-hour which I put in with His Honour
+the Mayor. Acting upon suspicion only, I told Poundstone I was prepared
+to send him to the rock-pile if he didn't behave himself in the matter
+of my permanent franchise for the N.C.O.--and the oily old invertebrate
+wept and promised me anything if I wouldn't disgrace him. So I promised
+I wouldn't do anything until the franchise matter should be definitely
+settled--after which I returned to my office, to find awaiting me there
+no less a person than the right-of-way man for the Northwestern Pacific.
+He was a perfectly delightful young fellow, and he had a proposition to
+unfold. It seems the Northwestern Pacific has decided to build up from
+Willits, and all that powwow and publicity of Buck Ogilvy's about
+the N.C.O. was in all probability the very thing that spurred them to
+action. They figured the C.M. & St.P. was back of the N.C.O.--that
+it was to be the first link of a chain of coast roads to be connected
+ultimately with the terminus of the C.M. & St.P. on Gray's Harbour,
+Washington, and if the N.C.O. should be built, it meant that a rival
+road would get the edge on them in the matter of every stick of Humboldt
+and Del Norte redwood--and they'd be left holding the sack."
+
+"Why did they think that, dear?"
+
+"That amazing rascal Buck Ogilvy used to be a C. M. me that the money
+had been deposited in escrow there awaiting formal deed. That money puts
+the Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company in the clear--no receivership for
+us now, my dear one. And I'm going right ahead with the building of the
+N.C.O.--while our holdings down on the San Hedrin double in value, for
+the reason that within three years they will be accessible and can be
+logged over the rails of the Northwestern Pacific!"
+
+"Bryce," Shirley declared, "haven't I always told you I'd never permit
+you to build the N.C.O.?"
+
+"Of course," he replied, "but surely you're going to withdraw your
+objections now."
+
+"I am not. You must choose between the N.C.O. and me." And she met his
+surprised gaze unflinchingly.
+
+"Shirley! You don't mean it?"
+
+"I do mean it. I have always meant it. I love you, dear, but for all
+that, you must not build that road."
+
+He stood up and towered above her sternly. "I must build it, Shirley.
+I've contracted to do it, and I must keep faith with Gregory of the
+Trinidad Timber Company. He's putting up the money, and I'm to do the
+work and operate the line. I can't go back on him now."
+
+"Not for my sake?" she pleaded. He shook his head. "I must go on," he
+reiterated.
+
+"Do you realize what that resolution means to us?" The girl's tones were
+grave, her glance graver.
+
+"I realize what it means to me!"
+
+She came closer to him. Suddenly the blaze in her violet eyes gave
+way to one of mirth. "Oh, you dear big booby!" she cried. "I was just
+testing you." And she clung to him, laughing. "You always beat me
+down--you always win. Bryce, dear, I'm the Laguna Grande Lumber
+Company--at least, I will be to-morrow, and I repeat for the last time
+that you shall NOT build the N.C.O.--because I'm going to--oh, dear, I
+shall die laughing at you--because I'm going to merge with the Cardigan
+Redwood Lumber Company, and then my railroad shall be your railroad,
+and we'll extend it and haul Gregory's logs to tidewater for him also.
+And--silly, didn't I tell you you'd never build the N.C.O.?"
+
+"God bless my mildewed soul!" he murmured, and drew her to him.
+
+In the gathering dusk they walked down the trail. Beside the madrone
+tree John Cardigan waited patiently.
+
+"Well," he queried when they joined him, "did you find my handkerchief
+for me, son?"
+
+"I didn't find your handkerchief, John Cardigan," Bryce answered, "but
+I did find what I suspect you sent me back for--and that is a perfectly
+wonderful daughter-in-law for you."
+
+John Cardigan smiled and held out his arms for her. "This," he said, "is
+the happiest day that I have known since my boy was born."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+
+Colonel Seth Pennington was thoroughly crushed. Look which way he would,
+the bedevilled old rascal could find no loophole for escape.
+
+"You win, Cardigan," he muttered desperately as he sat in his office
+after Shirley had left him. "You've had more than a shade in every round
+thus far, and at the finish you've landed a clean knockout. If I had to
+fight any man but you--"
+
+He sighed resignedly and pressed the push-button on his desk. Sexton
+entered. "Sexton," he said bluntly and with a slight quiver in his
+voice, "my niece and I have had a disagreement. We have quarrelled over
+young Cardigan. She's going to marry him. Now, our affairs are somewhat
+involved, and in order to straighten them out, we spun a coin to see
+whether she should sell her stock in Laguna Grande to me or whether I
+should sell mine to her--and I lost. The book-valuation of the stock at
+the close of last year's business, plus ten per cent. will determine
+the selling price, and I shall resign as president. You will, in all
+probability, be retained to manage the company until it is merged with
+the Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company--when, I imagine, you will be given
+ample notice to seek a new job elsewhere. Call Miss Sumner's attorney,
+Judge Moore, on the telephone and ask him to come to the office at nine
+o'clock to-morrow, when the papers can be drawn up and signed. That is
+all."
+
+The Colonel did not return to his home in Redwood Boulevard that night.
+He had no appetite for dinner and sat brooding in his office until very
+late; then he went to the Hotel Sequoia and engaged a room. He did not
+possess sufficient courage to face his niece again.
+
+At four o'clock the next day the Colonel, his baggage, his automobile,
+his chauffeur, and the solemn butler James, boarded the passenger
+steamer for San Francisco, and at four-thirty sailed out of Humboldt Bay
+over the thundering bar and on into the south. The Colonel was still a
+rich man, but his dream of a redwood empire had faded, and once more he
+was taking up the search for cheap timber. Whether he ever found it or
+not is a matter that does not concern us.
+
+At a moment when young Henry Poundstone's dream of legal opulence
+was fading, when Mayor Poundstone's hopes for domestic peace had been
+shattered beyond repair, the while his cheap political aspirations had
+been equally devastated because of a certain damnable document in
+the possession of Bryce Cardigan, many events of importance were
+transpiring. On the veranda of his old-fashioned home, John Cardigan
+sat tapping the floor with his stick and dreaming dreams which, for the
+first time in many years, were rose-tinted. Beside him Shirley sat, her
+glance bent musingly out across the roofs of Sequoia and on to the
+bay shore, where the smoke and exhaust-steam floated up from two
+sawmills--her own and Bryce Cardigan's. To her came at regularly spaced
+intervals the faint whining of the saws and the rumble of log-trains
+crawling out on the log-dumps; high over the piles of bright, freshly
+sawed lumber she caught from time to time the flash of white spray
+as the great logs tossed from the trucks, hurtled down the skids, and
+crashed into the Bay. At the docks of both mills vessels were loading,
+their tall spars cutting the skyline above and beyond the smokestacks;
+far down the Bay a steam schooner, loaded until her main-deck was almost
+flush with the water, was putting out to sea, and Shirley heard the
+faint echo of her siren as she whistled her intention to pass to
+starboard of a wind-jammer inward bound in tow of a Cardigan tug.
+
+"It's wonderful," she said presently, apropos of nothing.
+
+"Aye," he replied in his deep, melodious voice, "I've been sitting here,
+my dear, listening to your thoughts. You know something, now, of the
+tie that binds my boy to Sequoia. This"--he waved his arm abroad in the
+darkness--"this is the true essence of life--to create, to develop
+the gifts that God has given us--to work and know the blessing of
+weariness--to have dreams and see them come true. That is life, and I
+have lived. And now I am ready to rest." He smiled wistfully. "'The king
+is dead. Long live the king.' I wonder if you, raised as you have been,
+can face life in Sequoia resolutely with my son. It is a dull, drab
+sawmill town, where life unfolds gradually without thrill--where the
+years stretch ahead of one with only trees, among simple folk. The life
+may be hard on you, Shirley; one has to acquire a taste for it, you
+know."
+
+"I have known the lilt of battle, John-partner," she answered; "hence I
+think I can enjoy the sweets of victory. I am content."
+
+"And what a run you did give that boy Bryce!"
+
+She laughed softly. "I wanted him to fight; I had a great curiosity to
+see the stuff that was in him," she explained.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL
+
+
+Next day Bryce Cardigan, riding the top log on the end truck of a long
+train just in from Cardigan's woods in Township Nine, dropped from the
+end of the log as the train crawled through the mill-yard on its way to
+the log-dump. He hailed Buck Ogilvy, where the latter stood in the door
+of the office.
+
+"Big doings up on Little Laurel Creek this morning, Buck."
+
+"Do tell!" Mr. Ogilvy murmured morosely.
+
+"It was great," Bryce continued. "Old Duncan McTavish returned. I knew
+he would. His year on the mourner's-bench expired yesterday, and he came
+back to claim his old job of woods-boss."
+
+"He's one year too late," Ogilvy declared. "I wouldn't let that big
+Canadian Jules Rondeau quit for a farm. Some woods-boss, that--and
+his first job with this company was the dirtiest you could hand
+him--smearing grease on the skid-road at a dollar and a half a day and
+found. He's made too good to lose out now. I don't care what his private
+morals may be. He CAN get out the logs, hang his rascally hide, and I'm
+for him."
+
+"I'm afraid you haven't anything to say about it, Buck," Bryce replied
+dryly.
+
+"I haven't, eh? Well, any time you deny me the privilege of hiring and
+firing, you're going to be out the service of a rattling good general
+manager, my son. Yes, sir! If you hold me responsible for results, I
+must select the tools I want to work with."
+
+"Oh, very well," Bryce laughed. "Have it your own way. Only if you can
+drive Duncan McTavish out of Cardigan's woods, I'd like to see you do
+it. Possession is nine points of the law, Buck--and Old Duncan is in
+possession."
+
+"What do you mean--in possession?"
+
+"I mean that at ten o'clock this morning Duncan McTavish appeared at our
+log-landing. The whisky-fat was all gone from him, and he appeared forty
+years old instead of the sixty he is. With a whoop he came jumping over
+the logs, straight for Jules Rondeau. The big Canuck saw him coming and
+knew what his visit portended--so he wasn't taken unawares. It was a
+case of fight for his job--and Rondeau fought."
+
+"The devil you say!"
+
+"I do--and there was the devil to pay. It was a rough and tumble and
+no grips barred--just the kind of fight Rondeau likes. Nevertheless
+old Duncan floored him. While he's been away somebody taught him the
+hammer-lock and the crotch-hold and a few more fancy ones, and he got
+to work on Rondeau in a hurry. In fact, he had to, for if the tussle had
+gone over five minutes, Rondeau's youth would have decided the issue."
+
+"And Rondeau was whipped?"
+
+"To a whisper. Mac floored him, climbed him, and choked him until he
+beat the ground with his free hand in token of surrender; whereupon old
+Duncan let him up, and Rondeau went to his shanty and packed his turkey.
+The last I saw of him he was headed over the hill to Camp Two on Laguna
+Grande. He'll probably chase that assistant woods-boss I hired after the
+consolidation, out of Shirley's woods and help himself to the fellow's
+job. I don't care if he does. What interests me is the fact that the
+old Cardigan woods-boss is back on the job in Cardigan's woods, and I'm
+mighty glad of it. The old horsethief has had his lesson and will remain
+sober hereafter. I think he's cured."
+
+"The infamous old outlaw!"
+
+"Mac knows the San Hedrin as I know my own pocket. He'll be a tower of
+strength when we open up that tract after the railroad builds in. By the
+way, has my dad been down this morning?"
+
+"Yes. Moira read the mail to him and then took him up to the Valley of
+the Giants. He said he wanted to do a little quiet figuring on that new
+steam schooner you're thinking of building. He thinks she ought to be
+bigger--big enough to carry two million feet."
+
+Bryce glanced at his watch. "It's half after eleven," he said. "Guess
+I'll run up to the Giants and bring him home to luncheon."
+
+He stepped into the Napier standing outside the office and drove away.
+Buck Ogilvy waited until Bryce was out of sight; then with sudden
+determination he entered the office.
+
+"Moira," he said abruptly, approaching the desk where she worked, "your
+dad is back, and what's more, Bryce Cardigan has let him have his old
+job as woods-boss. And I'm here to announce that you're not going back
+to the woods to keep house for him. Understand? Now, look here, Moira.
+I've shilly-shallied around you for months, protesting my love, and I
+haven't gotten anywhere. To-day I'm going to ask you for the last time.
+Will you marry me? I need you worse than that rascal of a father of
+yours does, and I tell you I'll not have you go back to the woods to
+take care of him. Come, now, Moira. Do give me a definite answer."
+
+"I'm afraid I don't love you well enough to marry you, Mr. Ogilvy,"
+Moira pleaded. "I'm truly fond of you, but--"
+
+"The last boat's gone," cried Mr. Ogilvy desperately. "I'm answered.
+Well, I'll not stick around here much longer, Moira. I realize I must
+be a nuisance, but I can't help being a nuisance when you're near me. So
+I'll quit my good job here and go back to my old game of railroading."
+
+"Oh, you wouldn't quit a ten-thousand-dollar job," Moira cried, aghast.
+
+"I'd quit a million-dollar job. I'm desperate enough to go over to the
+mill and pick a fight with the big bandsaw. I'm going away where I can't
+see you. Your eyes are driving me crazy."
+
+"But I don't want you to go, Mr. Ogilvy."
+
+"Call me Buck," he commanded sharply.
+
+"I don't want you to go, Buck," she repeated meekly. "I shall feel
+guilty, driving you out of a fine position."
+
+"Then marry me and I'll stay."
+
+"But suppose I don't love you the way you deserve--"
+
+"Suppose! Suppose!" Buck Ogilvy cried. "You're no longer certain of
+yourself. How dare you deny your love for me? Eh? Moira, I'll risk it."
+
+Her eyes turned to him timidly, and for the first time he saw in their
+smoky depths a lambent flame. "I don't know," she quavered, "and it's a
+big responsibility in case--"
+
+"Oh, the devil take the case!" he cried rapturously, and took her
+hands in his. "Do I improve with age, dear Moira?" he asked with boyish
+eagerness; then, before she could answer, he swept on, a tornado of love
+and pleading. And presently Moira was in his arms, he was kissing her,
+and she was crying softly because--well, she admired Mr. Buck Ogilvy;
+more, she respected him and was genuinely fond of him. She wondered, and
+as she wondered, a quiet joy thrilled her in the knowledge that it did
+not seem at all impossible for her to grow, in time, absurdly fond of
+this wholesome red rascal.
+
+"Oh, Buck, dear," she whispered, "I don't know, I'm sure, but perhaps
+I've loved you a little bit for a long time."
+
+"I'm perfectly wild over you. You're the most wonderful woman I ever
+heard of. Old rosy-cheeks!" And he pinched them just to see the colour
+come and go.
+
+ John Cardigan was seated in his lumberjack's easy-chair as his son
+approached. His hat lay on the litter of brown twigs beside him; his
+chin was sunk on his breast, and his head was held a little to one side
+in a listening attitude; a vagrant little breeze rustled gently a lock
+of his fine, long white hair. Bryce stooped over the old man and shook
+him gently by the shoulder.
+
+"Wake up, partner," he called cheerfully. But John Cardigan did not
+wake, and again his son shook him. Still receiving no response, Bryce
+lifted the leonine old head and gazed into his father's face. "John
+Cardigan!" he cried sharply. "Wake up, old pal."
+
+The old eyes opened, and John Cardigan smiled up at his boy. "Good son,"
+he whispered, "good son!" He closed his sightless eyes again as if
+the mere effort of holding them open wearied him. "I've been sitting
+here--waiting," he went on in the same gentle whisper. "No, not waiting
+for you, boy--waiting--"
+
+His head fell over on his son's shoulder; his hand went groping for
+Bryce's. "Listen," he continued. "Can't you hear it--the Silence? I'll
+wait for you here, my son. Mother and I will wait together now--in
+this spot she fancied. I'm tired--I want rest. Look after old Mac and
+Moira--and Bill Dandy, who lost his leg at Camp Seven last fall--and Tom
+Ellington's children--and--all the others, son. You know, Bryce. They're
+your responsibilities. Sorry I can't wait to see the San Hedrin opened
+up, but--I've lived my life and loved my love. Ah, yes, I've been
+happy--so happy just doing things--and--dreaming here among my
+Giants--and--"
+
+He sighed gently. "Good son," he whispered again; his big body relaxed,
+and the great heart of the Argonaut was still. Bryce held him until the
+realization came to him that his father was no more--that like a watch,
+the winding of which has been neglected, he had gradually slowed up and
+stopped.
+
+"Good-bye, old John-partner!" he murmured.
+
+"You've escaped into the light at last. We'll go home together now, but
+we'll come back again."
+
+And with his father's body in his strong arms he departed from the
+little amphitheatre, walking lightly with his heavy burden down the old
+skid-road to the waiting automobile. And two days later John Cardigan
+returned to rest forever--with his lost mate among the Giants, himself
+at last an infinitesimal portion of that tremendous silence that is the
+diapason of the ages.
+
+When the funeral was over, Shirley and Bryce lingered until they found
+themselves alone beside the freshly turned earth. Through a rift in the
+great branches two hundred feet above, a patch of cerulean sky
+showed faintly; the sunlight fell like a broad golden shaft over the
+blossom-laden grave, and from the brown trunk of an adjacent tree a gray
+squirrel, a descendant, perhaps, of the gray squirrel that had been wont
+to rob Bryce's pockets of pine-nuts twenty years before, chirped at them
+inquiringly.
+
+"He was a giant among men," said Bryce presently. "What a fitting place
+for him to lie!" He passed his arm around his wife's shoulders and drew
+her to him. "You made it possible, sweetheart."
+
+She gazed up at him in adoration. And presently they left the Valley
+of the Giants to face the world together, strong in their faith to live
+their lives and love their loves, to dream their dreams and perchance
+when life should be done with and the hour of rest at hand, to
+surrender, sustained and comforted by the knowledge that those dreams
+had come true.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Valley of the Giants, by Peter B. Kyne
+
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