th with a smile.

"I guess it's fortunate you got those logs away," he said. "It's
probably a little more than the men who turned them loose on you
figured you could do."

"That," agreed Nasmyth, "is very much my own opinion."

Wheeler filled his pipe. "Now," he said reflectively, "anybody can
apply for timber rights, and bid for them at public auction, but the
man who secures them must cut up so many thousand feet every month.
Since that's the case, it's quite evident that nobody is likely to bid
for timber rights round the valley, except the Charters people, who
have a little mill on the Klatchquot Inlet, and they'd probably get
the timber rights 'most for nothing, though they might have to put in
a new saw or two with the object of satisfying the Legislature."

"It's rather difficult to see how they expect to make a profit on
hemlock in view of what it would cost them to get the logs there,"
Gordon broke in.

"They don't want to make a profit." Wheeler smiled. "Seems to me it's
their programme to get hold of the rights cheap, and then worry you
because they can't run the logs through this canyon. The Legislature
won't give you land or rights to do nothing with, and it's quite
likely the Charters people will file a notification that your workings
are the obstacle. Still, they'd probably make you an offer first. If
you let them in on the ground-floor--handed them a big slice of the
valley or something of the kind--they'd let up on their timber rights.
I'm not sure they could run good milling fir to that mill at a
profit."

A grim look crept into Nasmyth's face. Difficulties were crowding
thick upon him, and though he was as determined as ever on proceeding
with the work, he almost felt that it would be only until they crushed
him.

"It seems to me we are in the hands of the Charters people, unless I
can keep the canyon clear," he commented.

Wheeler's eyes twinkled. "Well," he returned, "they're smart. I
have, however, come across smart folks who missed a point or two
occasionally. Now, I saw a couple of red cedar logs among that
hemlock."

He glanced at Mattawa. "Tom, you've been round the head of the valley.
Did you strike any trees of that kind up yonder?"

"A few," answered Mattawa. "It's quite likely there are more."

"A sure thing. You and I are going out timber-right prospecting at
sun-up to-morrow. Just now they can't get red cedar shingles fast
enough on to the Eastern markets."

Nasmyth looke