tling of one of the sailors aloft. And suddenly, as
though it had but just commenced, Bob again became aware of the saw
shrieking in ecstasy as it plunged into a pine log.

The sound came from the left, where at once he perceived the tall stacks
showing above the lumber piles, and the plume of white steam glittering
in the sun. In a moment the steam fell, and the shriek of the saw fell
with it. He turned to follow the tramway, and in so doing almost bumped
into Mason, the mill foreman.

"They're hustling it in," said the latter. "That's right. Can't give me
yard room any too soon. The drive'll be down next month. Plenty doing
then. Damn those Dutchmen!"

He spoke abstractedly, as though voicing his inner thoughts to himself,
unconscious of his companion. Then he roused himself.

"Going to the mill?" he asked. "Come on."

They walked along the high, narrow platform overlooking the water front
and the lading of the ships. Soon the trestles widened, the tracks
diverging like the fingers of a hand on the broad front to the second
story of the mill. Mason said something about seeing the whole of it,
and led the way along a narrow, railed outside passage to the other end
of the structure.

There Bob's attention was at once caught by a great water enclosure of
logs, lying still and sluggish in the manner of beasts resting. Rank
after rank, tier after tier, in strange patterns they lay, brown and
round, with the little strips of blue water showing between like a
fantastic pattern. While Bob looked, a man ran out over them. He was
dressed in short trousers, heavy socks, and spiked boots, and a faded
blue shirt. The young man watched with interest, old memories of his
early boyhood thronging back on him, before his people had moved from
Monrovia and the "booms." The man ran erratically, but with an accurate
purpose. Behind him the big logs bent in dignified reminiscence of his
tread, and slowly rolled over; the little logs bobbed frantically in a
turmoil of white water, disappearing and reappearing again and again,
sleek and wet as seals. To these the man paid no attention, but leaped
easily on, pausing on the timbers heavy enough to support him, barely
spurning those too small to sustain his weight. In a moment he stopped
abruptly without the transitorial balancing Bob would have believed
necessary, and went calmly to pushing mightily with a long pike-pole.
The log on which he stood rolled under the pressure; the man quite