m. The male cook was
Ward's idea. The young man had lived much in the woods, and the ways of
women about the house annoyed him; a bit of clutter was more
comfortable.

It was a long tramp to the Deadwater, but he knew the blazed-trail short
cuts and took advantage of the light of the full moon for the last stage
of the journey. He was eager to report progress and prospects to his
father.

Ward was not anticipating much in the way of practical counsel from
Garry Latisan.

Old John had been a Tartar, a blustering baron of the timberlands.

Garry, his son, had taken to books and study. He was slow and mild,
deprecatory and forgiving. Ward Latisan had those saving qualities in a
measure, but he was conscious in himself of the avatar of old John's
righteous belligerency when occasion prompted.

Ward, as he was trudging home, was trying to keep anger from clouding
his judgment. When he felt old John stirring in him, young Latisan
sought the mild counsel of Garry, and then went ahead on a line of
action of his own; he was steering a safe course, he felt, by keeping
about halfway between John's violence in performance and Garry's
toleration.

Ward was the executive of the Latisan business and liked the job; his
youth and vigor found zest in the adventures of the open. Old John's
timber man's spirit had been handed along to the grandson. Ward finished
his education at a seminary--and called it enough. His father urged him
to go to college, but he went into the woods and was glad to be there,
at the head of affairs.

The operations on the old tracts, thinned by many cuttings, had been
keeping him closely on the job, because there were problems to be solved
if profits were to be handled.

His stroke in getting hold of the Walpole tract promised profits without
problems; there were just so many trees to cut down--and the river was
handy!

In spite of his weariness, Ward sat till midnight on the porch with his
father, going over their plans. The young man surveyed the Latisan mill
and the houses of the village while he talked; the moon lighted all and
the mill loomed importantly, reflected in the still water of the pond.
If Craig prevailed, the mill and the homes must be left to rot, empty,
idle, and worthless. As Ward viewed it, the honor of the Latisans was at
stake; the spirit of old John blazed in the grandson; but he declared
his intention to fight man fashion, if the fight were forced on him. He
would go to the Co