reight on board at
the spurs at Tabernacle, evidently soon to have competition in the way
of railroad lines. And Tabernacle meant just one thing, the output of
a mill which could afford to put that lumber at the given point cheaper
then any other. The nearest other camp was either a hundred miles
away, on the western side, or so far removed over the range in the
matter of altitude that the freight rates would be prohibitive to a
cheaper bid. Thayer, with his ill-gotten flume, with his lake, with
his right to denude Barry Houston's forests at an insignificant cost,
could out-bid the others. He would land the contract, unless--

"Jenkins!" Houston's voice was sharp, insistent. The weazened man
entered, rubbing his hands.

"Yes, sir. Right here, sir."

"What contracts have we in the files?"

"Several, sir. One for mining timber stulls, logs, and that sort of
thing, for the Machol Mine at Idaho Springs; one for the Tramway
company in Denver for two thousand ties to be delivered in June; one
for--"

"I don't mean that sort. Are there any stumpage contracts?"

"Only one, sir."

"One? What!"

"The one you signed, sir, to Thayer and Blackburn, just a week or so
before you started out West. Don't you remember, sir; you signed it,
together with a lease for the flume site and lake?"

"I signed nothing of the sort!"

"But you did, sir. I attested it. I'll show it to you in just a
moment, sir. I have the copy right here."

A minute later, Barry Houston was staring down at the printed lines of
a copy of the contract and lease which had been shown him, days before,
out in the mountains of Colorado. Blankly he looked toward the servile
Jenkins, awaiting the return of the documents, then toward the papers
again.

"And I signed these, did I?"

"You certainly did, sir. It was about five o'clock in the afternoon.
I remember it perfectly."

"You're lying!"

"I don't lie, sir. I attested the signature and saw you read both
contracts. Pardon, sir, but if any one's lying, sir--it's yourself!"

CHAPTER XIII

Ten minutes after that, Barry Houston was alone in his office. Jenkins
was gone, discharged; and Houston felt a sort of relief in the
knowledge that he had departed. The last of the Thayer clan, he
believed, had been cleaned out of his organization--and it was like
lightening a burden to realize it.

That the lease and stumpage contract were fraudulent, Barry Houston was
certain. Surely h