and owls?" The president spoke jocosely, but
there was a significant tone in his voice.

"I don't think I should spend much time climbing trees," replied Parker,
smiling.

"Do you understand that the man we send must take the whole undertaking
on his own shoulders? Neither Mr. Jerrard nor myself cares to think
about the matter, even." "I'll be glad to be instructed, sir." "You'll
have instructions as to limit of construction cost per mile, authority
to draw on us as you need money, and the road must be in operation by
the middle of July. Now Jerrard speaks well of your qualifications. What
do you think?" "I am ready to accept the commission, sir." "You'll have
to get away at once, Parker," said Jerrard. "You must get construction
material and supplies across Spinnaker before the ice breaks up. You can
depend on the most of April for ice."

"I can start when you say the word." "We shall rush material. Suppose
you start to-morrow morning?" "I'll start sir."

He left the room when he was informed that his instructions would await
him that evening.

"Jerrard," said the president, gazing after the young man, "your friend
isn't an especially _pretty_ frog but I'll bet he can jump more than
once his length."

CHAPTER FOUR--IN WHICH THE DOUGHTY "SWAMP SWOGON" ASTONISHES SUNKHAZE
SETTLEMENT

Two days afterward Parker ate his supper at the Sunkhaze tavern and
spent the evening going over the schedule of material that was following
him by freight, its progress over connecting lines hastened by all the
"pull" inspired by the P. K. & R.'s bills of lading.

The next morning, even while the frosty sun was red behind the spruces,
he had arranged with the station agent for side-track privileges, and
then questioned that functionary regarding local conditions.

"I need twenty or more four-horse teams," said Parker. "What's the best
way to advertise here?" "I reckon you can advertise and advertise,"
replied the station agent, "but that's all the good it'll do you.
Colonel Gid Ward has about every spare team in this county yardin' logs
for him this winter."

"What does he pay?"

"Thirty-five a month for a span o' hosses, and hosses and man kept."

"I'll pay forty-five and feed."

"I shouldn't want to be the man that went up on Gid Ward's operations
and tried to hire his teams away!" growled the agent. "You can't hire
any one round here for an errand of that kind."

"I'd go myself if I thought I could get the horses