Laird
continued, turning to Caleb Brent, "and make a dicker with him for
hauling our garbage-scow out to sea and dumping it. I observe that
your motor-boat is fitted with towing-bitts. We dump twice a week. And
you may have a monopoly on fresh fish if you desire it. We have no
fishermen here, because I do not care for Greeks and Sicilians in Port
Agnew. And they're about the only fishermen on this coast."

"Thank you, Mr. McKaye."

"Mind you don't abuse your monopoly. If you do, I'll take it away from
you."

"You are very kind, sir. And I can have the Sawdust Pile, sir?"

"Yes; since Donald gave it to you. However, I wish you'd tear down
that patchwork fence and replace it with a decent job the instant you
can afford it."

"Ah, just wait," old Brent promised. "I know how to make things neat
and pretty and keep them shipshape. You just keep your eye on the
Sawdust Pile, sir." The old wind-bitten face flushed with pride; the
faded sea-blue eyes shone with joyous anticipation. "I've observed
your pride in your town, sir, and before I get through, I'll have a
prettier place than the best of them."

A few days later, The Laird looked across the Bight of Tyee from his
home on Tyee Head, and through his marine glasses studied the Sawdust
Pile. He chuckled as he observed that the ramshackle shanty had
disappeared almost as soon as it had been started and in its place a
small cottage was being erected. There was a pile of lumber in the
yard--bright lumber, fresh from the saws--and old Caleb Brent and the
motherless Nan were being assisted by two carpenters on the Tyee
Lumber Company's pay-roll.

When Donald came home from school that night, The Laird asked him
about the inhabitants of the Sawdust Pile with relation to the lumber
and the two carpenters.

"Oh, I made a trade with Mr. Brent and Nan. I'm to furnish the lumber
and furniture for the house, and those two carpenters weren't very
busy, so Mr. Daney told me I could have them to help out. In return,
Mr. Brent is going to build me a sloop and teach me how to sail it."

The Laird nodded.

"When his little home is completed, Donald," he suggested presently,
"you might take old Brent and his girl over to our old house in town
and let them have what furniture they require. See if you cannot
manage to saw off some of your mother's antiques on them," added
whimsically. "By the way, what kind of shanty is old Brent going to
build?"

"A square house with five rooms