the road bridge. It was wider here, a fine
stretch of water, though still dark colored and uninviting from the
shadow of the trees. On its bank, forming a center to the cleared
semicircle, was a building, evidently the mill. It was a small place,
consisting of a single long narrow galvanized iron shed, and placed
parallel to the river. In front of the shed was a tiny wharf, and behind
it were stacks and stacks of tree trunks cut in short lengths and built
as if for seasoning. Decauville tramways radiated from the shed, and the
men were running in timber in the trucks. From the mill came the hard,
biting screech of a circular saw.

"A sawmill!" Merriman exclaimed rather unnecessarily.

"Yes. We cut pit-props for the English coal mines. Those are they you
see stacked up. As soon as they are drier they will be shipped
across. My father joined with some others in putting up the capital,
and--voila!" She indicated the clearing and its contents with a
comprehensive sweep of her hand.

"By Jove! A jolly fine notion, too, I should say. You have everything
handy--trees handy, river handy--I suppose from the look of that wharf
that sea-going ships can come up?"

"Shallow draughted ones only. But we have our own motor ship specially
built and always running. It makes the round trip in about ten days."

"By Jove!" Merriman said again. "Splendid! And is that where you live?"

He pointed to a house standing on a little hillock near the edge of the
clearing at the far or down-stream side of the mill. It was a rough, but
not uncomfortable-looking building of galvanized iron, one-storied and
with a piazza in front. From a brick chimney a thin spiral of blue smoke
was floating up lazily into the calm air.

The girl nodded.

"It's not palatial, but it's really wonderfully comfortable," she
explained, "and oh, the fires! I've never seen such glorious wood fires
as we have. Cuttings, you know. We have more blocks than we know what to
do with."

"I can imagine. I wish we had 'em in London."

They were walking not too rapidly across the clearing towards the mill.
At the back of the shed were a number of doors, and opposite one of
them, heading into the opening, stood the motor lorry. The engine was
still running, but the driver had disappeared, apparently into the
building. As the two came up, Merriman once more ran his eye idly over
the vehicle. And then he felt a sudden mild surprise, as one feels when
some unexpected though qu