igure it out for
yourself. If he stayed with you the best he could expect would be a
fair salary. With us he was in position to dictate his own terms.
They were stiff terms, too, for Wentworth is shrewd. But he has been
worth all he cost. He is now secretary of the Eureka, and a very
considerable stockholder."

McNabb was silent for what seemed a long time. When at length he
spoke, it was in a voice that sounded dull and tired. "But, Orcutt,
the tote-road is mine. I built it. It cost me a hundred thousand
dollars--that road did. If you hold the property the road is no good
to me, and it is valuable to you. Will you buy it?"

"Sure, I'll buy it. I'll buy it for just what I figure it is worth to
me. It cost you a thousand dollars a mile. It's worth a hundred to
me. Ten thousand dollars is my limit. Take it or leave it. Ten cents
on the dollar, John; you may as well save what you can out of the
wreck."

"Is that the best you can do by me? Man, it's robbery! I can't afford
to lose ninety thousand. It'll cripple me. An' I stood to make a
million!"

"Cripple you, eh? Well, it won't hurt my feelings to see you limping.
That's the very best we can do. You better take it, and go back to
selling your thread. You're getting too old for real business,
John--you're done!"

McNabb nodded slowly. "Aye, maybe ye're right, maybe ye're right."
The voice sounded old, tired. "I'll let ye know in a few days, Orcutt.
Now that I'm up here I think I'll slip down for a visit with my old
friend Murchison. He's the factor at Gods Lake. We were boys
together, an' together we worked for the Company. He's a friend a man
can trust. An' I feel the need of a friend. Ye'll not begrudge us a
ride down on one of ye're trucks, will ye, Orcutt?"

Before Orcutt could reply Jean, who had been a silent listener to all
that had passed, leaped forward and faced Orcutt with blazing eyes.
"You sneak!" she cried. "And all the time I thought you and Mrs.
Orcutt were my friends! And all the time you were lying in wait to
ruin an old man! You couldn't fight him in the open! You were afraid!
But my father is used to fighting men--not cowardly thieves! And as
for riding in one of your trucks, I would die first!" She turned to
McNabb. "Come on, Dad, we'll walk!"

"But, daughter, it's a hundred miles!"

"I don't care if it is five hundred miles! I'll walk, or crawl if I
have to, rather than accept anything from that--that r