h his train."

"How does idleness sit on my parent, Mr. Daney?"

"Not very well, I fear. He shoots and fishes and takes long walks with
the dogs; he was out twice in your sloop this week. I think he and
your mother and the girls plan a trip to Honolulu shortly."

"Good!" Donald yawned and stretched his big body, "I've lost eight
pounds on this chopping-job," he declared, "and I thought I hadn't an
ounce of fat on me. Zounds, I'm sore! But I'm to have an easy job next
week. I'm to patrol the skid-roads with a grease-can. That woods boss
is certainly running me ragged."

"Well, your innings will come later," Daney smiled.

At the mill office, Donald washed, and then strolled over to the hotel
to meet his father. Old Hector grinned as Donald, in woolen shirt,
mackinaw, corduroy trousers, and half-boots came into the little
lobby, for in his son he saw a replica of himself thirty years agone.

"Hello, dad!" Donald greeted him.

"Hello, yourself!"

The father, in great good humor, joined his son, and they proceeded to
dine, chaffing each other good-naturedly the while, and occasionally
exchanging pleasantries with their neighbors at adjoining tables. The
Laird was in excellent spirits, a condition which his interview that
afternoon with Nan Brent had tended to bring about; during the period
that had elapsed between his subsequent doubts and his meeting with
his son, he had finally decided that the entire matter was a mare's
nest and had dismissed it from his mind.

After dinner, they walked down to the railroad station together,
Donald carrying his father's bag. While The Laird was at the
ticket-window purchasing his transportation, his son walked over to a
baggage-truck to rest the bag upon it. As the bag landed with a thud,
a man who had been seated on the truck with his back toward Donald
glanced over his shoulder in a leisurely way, and, in that glance, the
latter recognized one of the Greeks he had evicted from the Sawdust
Pile--the same man who had thrown a beer-bottle at him the day he
motored through Darrow.

"What are you doing in Port Agnew?" Donald demanded.

To his query, the fellow replied profanely that this was none of his
interrogator's affair.

"Well, it is some of my affair," the new boss of Tyee replied. "I have
a crow to pluck with you, anyhow, and I'm going to pluck it now." He
grasped the Greek by his collar and jerked him backward until the man
lay flat on his back across the baggage-tru