After breakfast on the morning of the first of July, Orcutt and Cameron repaired to the cabin where, with the rough pine table littered with maps, they discussed the terms and conditions of the contract of sale. While Wentworth, palpably nervous, paced the clearing; his eyes were upon the trails that led into the forest, and out upon the lake, for a sign of a canoe from the southward.

When at last the pros and cons had all been threshed over, clauses inserted, and clauses struck out, Orcutt drew from his pocket a heavy gold watch, and snapping it open, detached it from its chain and laid it upon the table between them. "Half past eleven," he announced. "I suppose you insist upon waiting until the uttermost minute ticks to its close."

"Yes," answered Cameron. "McNabb's options hold good until twelve o'clock."

"I am anxious to get back," said Orcutt, offering his cigar case, "but I don't want to return without having a look at the mill site. How far is it from here?"

"About forty miles. If you leave here right after noon you will make it before noon to-morrow."

"I'll do it, and return the following day."

The two men smoked with their eyes upon the minute hand that slowly crept toward twelve. Now and then Cameron's glance strayed through the window toward the trading post, as though he half expected to see John McNabb step to its door.

"Twelve o'clock!" announced Orcutt, in a voice that held a ring of triumph. "And I don't mind telling you that, sure as I was that McNabb would not be here, I am breathing easier now than I was two minutes ago."

Leaning forward, Cameron verified the announcement, and dipping the pen in ink, he signed the contract and passed the instrument across to Orcutt, who hastily affixed his signature. Then from the fat bundle upon which his elbow had rested, the banker removed the wrapping and counted out three hundred and fifty thousand dollars in gold certificates of five- and ten-thousand dollar denominations. Cameron recounted, and receipted for the money, and after depositing it in his pocket he extended his hand. "I congratulate you, Mr. Orcutt, upon your purchase, and trust that you have launched upon an enterprise that will prove immensely profitable to yourself and your associates. But for the life of me, I cannot understand McNabb's failure to put in an appearance."

Orcutt's eyes flashed. "Nor can I, except on the theory that he is breaking—losing his grip on affairs. For years we have been business rivals, and for years I have tried to get the upper hand of him, but until this moment I have always failed. It will be a different story from now on," he added vindictively. "Never again will he have the old confidence, the nerve and sureness that has been his chief asset. John McNabb is done. But I'm wasting time. I should right now be on my way to the mill site."

"You will wait for dinner?"

"No. We can eat as we travel," he answered impatiently. "Good-by!" And stepping to the door, he called to Wentworth and the guides and plainclothes-men who waited beside the door.

"Come on! We strike out at once for the mill site. The deal is closed, and we're wasting time. We've got a forty mile hike ahead of us! We'll snatch a lunch later. By the way, Cameron, you may not be here when I return, so I will inform you now that until further notice Mr. Wentworth will be our accredited representative in the field. If anything should come up that needs my attention, take it up with him."

"Just put it on paper, Mr. Orcutt," advised the canny Scot, and with a show of impatience Orcutt scribbled the memorandum.

"Where are we going?" asked Wentworth.

"To the mill site. I want to look it over and return here by the day after to-morrow. All ready?"

The guides swung their packs to their backs and struck into the timber, followed closely by the others of the party.

The following day, Orcutt and Wentworth stood at the head of the rapids and Orcutt listened as the engineer, with the aid of his field notes and maps, explained the construction of the dam, and roughly indicated the contour of the reservoir. "But what's this line—the dotted one, that crosses the river just above us?"

"That is our western property line. It crosses about a mile above here, and we are standing about the same distance above the mill site."

"Do you mean that we own only a mile of timber on the big river above this point?"

"Just about a mile. Our property runs a long way up Gods River, and both sides of the Shamattawa below the dotted line."

Orcutt studied the map for a moment. "Who owns the land above here?" he asked sharply.

"The Hudson's Bay Company on the north side, and the Government on the south."

"Well, what in hell is to prevent someone—McNabb, for instance—from buying up that land and starting operations above us? Even if they didn't put in a dam they could raise the devil with us by driving their stuff through. John McNabb knows every trick of the logging game, and when he finds out what has happened he'll go the limit to buck us."

Wentworth considered. "I guess he could do that, all right. We would have to let his stuff through—"

"I'll fix him!" cried Orcutt. "I'll beat him to it! Where do we do business with the Government and the Hudson's Bay Company?"

"With the Government in Ottawa, and the Company in Winnipeg."

"Hell's bells!" cried Orcutt. "That means we'll be gallivanting all over Canada for the next week or ten days. Well, it can't be helped. I know John McNabb well enough not to leave any loop-hole for him to take advantage of." He called to the guides. "Hey, you Injuns! What's the quickest way to the railroad?"

The guides pointed due north. "Mebbe-so wan hondre mile," announced one.

"But," cried Wentworth, "we're going back by way of the post, aren't we?"

"We're going to hit for the railway the quickest way God will let us!"

"But, I—I left something—that is, I have nothing to travel in but these field clothes, and they're shockingly soiled and tattered."

"Soiled and tattered—hell! What's that got to do with saving years of trouble at the mill? Maybe you ain't as pretty as you'd like to be—but, you've got enough on so they can't arrest you——"

Wentworth felt a decidedly uncomfortable thrill at the word "arrest." He was thinking of a certain Russian sable coat that lay in his trunk at the cabin, and guarded from prying eyes by only a flimsy trunk lock. He thought, also, of Downey—and wondered. He would have given much to have returned to that cabin, but a single glance into Orcutt's face stilled any thought of further objection, and he reluctantly acquiesced.

"We can follow the line of the tote-road," he said. "I blazed it to the railway, and by the way, Cameron said that McNabb had already started construction—had twenty or thirty miles of it completed several days ago."

"Started construction?" cried Orcutt. "Construction of what?"

"The tote-road. He figured it would be quicker and cheaper to haul his material for the mill in from the new railway than to ship by boat around through the Bay to Port Nelson, and then drag it up the river by scow."

"And you mean to say he's started the work? Laid out good money on top of what his options cost him—and forgot to take up the options?"

"That's just what he's done, according to Cameron."

Orcutt burst out laughing. "We'll let him go ahead and build the road," he cried. "Every dollar he puts in will be ninety cents saved for us. It may be two or three weeks before he finds out that he has lost the timber, and possibly the road will be completed by that time. Then I'll buy it in for almost nothing. McNabb has certainly gone fluie! And in the meantime we will use his road to haul in our own material. I'll wire Strang to begin hustling the stuff through."