to
an understanding, calculated to promote a greater achievement for both.
It's my little notion of snatching a bunch of happiness for myself."

There was no laughter in Nancy's eyes now. They were quite serious. Her
words were alive with vehemence. Bull was watching her intently,
probing, in his searching way, the depths which her hazel eyes hinted
at. The things she said pleased him. Her tone thrilled him. He wanted
more.

"I wonder," he said, as he rolled the cigar across his lips in the way
Nancy had laughingly pointed. "You reckon it's handed you
happiness--this thing?"

The girl was stirred.

"Surely," she cried. "Later, when things get fixed up between the
Skandinavia and Sachigo, I'll get a focus of my little share in the
business of it--the achievement. Then I'll get warm all through with a
glow of happiness because I--helped it along."

Bull nodded as he watched the rising colour in the perfect cheeks. The
girl was very, very beautiful.

"Yes, I suppose you will," he said. Then he went on provocatively. "But
do you guess it's always so? I mean that always happens? Isn't it to do
with temperament? Now, take the forest-jacks. Do you guess they feel
happiness in a tree dropped right? Do you guess there's happiness for
the poor fool who don't know better than to spend his days in a forest
risking his life boosting logs on the river jamb? Do you guess there's
any sort of old joy for the feller turned adrift, when he's getting old
in the tooth, and there's no room for him on the pay roll of the camp,
in the thought that he _was_ the best axeman the forest ever bred? It
seems like a crazy sort of happiness that way. Happiness in
achievement's great while the achieving's going on. But at the finish
we get right back to Nature. And when that time comes Nature doesn't do
much to help us out."

Nancy sat up.

"What are you doing? That great Sachigo!" she demanded challengingly.
"You're building, building one magnificent enterprise. Is there
happiness in it for you?"

"Sure," Bull admitted frankly. "Oh, yes. But I've no illusions," he
said. "I don't go back on the things I said. Nature as she dopes out
life couldn't hand me a hundredth part of the happiness I get that way.
But when I'm through, like that lumber-jack who's struck off the pay
roll, how's it going to be with me? A trained mind without the bodily
ability to thrust on in the game of life. It'll be hell--just hell. The
one hope is to die in harness