"Nonsense!" objected Taylor. "You're talking wild. We haven't even begun
on the upper peninsula. After that there's Minnesota. And I haven't
observed that we're quite out of timber on the river, or the Muskegon,
or the Saginaw, or the Grand, or the Cheboygan--why, Great Scott! man,
our children's children's children may be thinking of investing in
California timber, but that's about soon enough."

"All tight," said Orde quietly. "Well, what do you think of Indiana as a
good field for timber investment?"

"Indiana!" cried Taylor, amazed. "Why, there's no timber there; it's a
prairie."

"There used to be. And all the southern Michigan farm belt was timbered,
and around here. We have our stumps to show for it, but there are no
evidences at all farther south. You'd have hard work, for instance, to
persuade a stranger that Van Buren County was once forest."

"Was it?" asked Taylor doubtfully.

"It was. You take your map and see how much area has been cut already,
and how much remains. That'll open your eyes. And remember all that has
been done by crude methods for a relatively small demand. The demand
increases as the country grows and methods improve. It would not
surprise me if some day thirty or forty millions would constitute an
average cut. [*] 'Michigan pine exhaustless!'--those fellows make me sick!"

* At the present day some firms cut as high as 150,000,000
feet.

"Sounds a little more reasonable," said Taylor slowly.

"It'll sound a lot more reasonable in five or ten years," insisted
Orde, "and then you'll see the big men rushing out into that Oregon and
California country. But now a man can get practically the pick of the
coast. There are only a few big concerns out there."

"Why is it that no one--"

"Because," Orde cut him short, "the big things are for the fellow who
can see far enough ahead."

"What kind of a proposition have you?" asked Taylor after a pause.

"I can get ten thousand acres at an average price of eight dollars an
acre," replied Orde.

"Acres? What does that mean in timber?"

"On this particular tract it means about four hundred million feet."

"That's about twenty cents a thousand."

Orde nodded.

"And of course you couldn't operate for a long time?"

"Not for twenty, maybe thirty, years," replied Orde calmly.

"There's your interest on your money, and taxes, and the risk of fire
and--"

"Of course, of course," agreed Orde impatiently, "but you're getting
you