land don't protect me, I'll protect myself, sir," he
proclaimed. "I give ye fair warning! I ain't a-going to have my property
interfered with no more."

"But surely," said Orde, "we have a right to run our logs through. It's
an open river."

"And hev ye been running your logs through?" cried the old man
excitedly. "Hev ye? First off ye begin to tear down my dam; and then,
when the river begins a-roarin' and a-ragin' through, then you tamper
with my improvements furthermore, a-lowerin' the gate and otherwise
a-modifyin' my structure."

Orde stepped forward to say something further. Immediately Reed wheeled,
his thumb on the hammer.

"All right, old Spirit of '76," replied Orde. "Don't shoot; I'll come
down."

He walked back to the waiting row, smiling quizzically.

"Well, you calamity howlers, what do you think of it?"

Nobody answered, but everybody looked expectant.

"Think he'd shoot?" inquired Orde of Tom North.

"I know he would," replied North earnestly. "That crazy-headed kind are
just the fellers to rip loose."

"I think myself he probably would," agreed Orde.

"Surely," spoke up Newmark, "whatever the status of the damage suits,
you have the legal right to run your logs."

Orde rolled a quizzical eye in his direction.

"Per-fect-ly correct, son," he drawled, "but we're engaged in the happy
occupation of getting out logs. By the time the law was all adjusted and
a head of steam up, the water'd be down. In this game, you get out logs
first, and think about law afterward."

"How about legal damages?" insisted Newmark.

"Legal damages!" scoffed Orde. "Legal damages! Why, we count legal
damages as part of our regular expenses--like potatoes. It's lucky it's
so," he added. "If anybody paid any attention to legal technicalities,
there'd never be a log delivered. A man always has enemies.

"Well, what are you going to do?" persisted Newmark.

Orde thrust back his felt hat and ran his fingers through his short,
crisp hair.

"There you've got me," he confessed, "but, if necessary, we'll pile the
old warrior."

He walked to the edge of the dam and stood looking down current. For
perhaps a full minute he remained there motionless, his hat clinging to
one side, his hand in his hair. Then he returned to the grimly silent
rivermen.

"Boys," he commanded briefly, "get your peavies and come along."

He led the way past the mill to the shallows below.

"There's a trifle of wading to do," he announced.