er figure probably would be about what one would have to pay for the
timber rights."

"At the latter price how much could a fellow expect to clear on the
deal?" persisted Hippy.

Tom said it would depend upon whether one sold the logs delivered at the
mill, or worked them into lumber at his own mill. It was his opinion
that the holder should earn a profit of a hundred thousand dollars or
more, in the latter instance, provided he had proper shipping
facilities.

"Of course, here you have the river on which to float your logs down to
the mill, which should be located at or near the lakes," added Tom.

"Look it over carefully to-morrow. I am getting interested to know more
about the lumber business. One can't have too much knowledge, you know.
Now that we have sold our coal lands in Kentucky, you and I are
interested in high finance. Eh, Tom?"

"Thanks to you, Hippy, we are."

The coal lands to which Hippy referred were part of an estate that had
been willed to him by an admiring uncle while Lieutenant Wingate was a
member of the United States Army Air Forces in France. The Overland
Riders had made the Kentucky Mountains the scene of their summer's
outing the year before their present journey, and there experienced many
stirring adventures. Hippy, at first, decided to work the mines himself,
with Tom Gray as his partner, but that winter they received an offer for
the property and sold it outright for a large sum of money, which
Lieutenant Wingate insisted they should share equally.

The two friends, after sitting about their campfire until a late hour
that night discussing the subject that had taken strong hold of Hippy's
mind, lay down to sleep in the open.

Immediately after breakfast next morning Tom and Hippy started out to
make a thorough "cruise" of the pine trees in the section from which a
few acres of logs had been cut. They finished their work late in the
afternoon, but Tom did not venture a further opinion on what he had seen
until they were on their way to their camp, where they had decided to
remain another night.

"Well?" demanded Hippy finally. "Speak up! How about it, Tom?"

"Hippy, you have looked upon the finest plot of virgin timber to be
found anywhere outside the states of Oregon and Washington. I wish
someone would buy it and beat those pirates out. It is a burning shame
to let them get away with it."

"Where would one have to go to find out about it?"

"St. Paul, possibly. Why?"

"I