UNDER CONTRACT.
During the next two weeks several amazing things happened. Bob Lowe went
to work! He did not make a pretense of it, but shed his fine clothes,
donned overalls, and got slivers in his fingers.
“I can’t get over it,” Dorothy exclaimed. She was in the rôle of nurse;
Dan Todd was the patient. “Some influence for good must be working on
Bob. I didn’t expect him to begin right down at bedrock, but I am very
happy over it.”
“Maybe he’s in love,” Todd suggested, enjoying an inward laugh.
“He might be,” the girl admitted. Dan Todd knew that the youth was in
love—with his sister.
The contracts came, the bond insuring performance was signed, and still
Dan lay helpless in the Maple Creek cabin.
The girl was worried, partly because of his condition, and partly
because it was time cedar logs were pouring into the mill. In the offing
Ludwig waited, reminding her of the advantages of a merger. Another
week, then: “Feeling any better, Dan?”
“About the same. Why? Worried?”
“Yes, about you and about the business.”
“Quit worrying about me,” he replied; “I’ve a hunch I’m going to feel
better when the weather changes.” His face became somewhat mysterious.
“It’s been pretty cold. I think if we had warmer weather—say, a
chinook—it’d make a great change in me. A chinook is due.”
“It is late!”
“Dan, I’ve decided on a merger—on my own terms. It includes a permanent
position for you and—”
“Forget me,” he said. “I wouldn’t care to join the new layout. I
wouldn’t be needed in Ludwig’s scheme of things. And, besides, I would
be fighting you, through him.”
“You’ve fought me in the past!”
“No, merely your representative, who was Burke. You—are different. I’m
glad I found it out. So, Dorothy, I don’t want to fight you. But I will
if conservation is involved. One thing, before you agree to combine with
Ludwig, give me a chance to explain some things—give me twenty-four
hours.”
Again came the impression he was keeping something from her.
She saw Ludwig that afternoon and agreed to consider his proposition
seriously. He returned home well pleased. “She’s got to come to me,” he
cried when he saw Yates. “They need a pond full of cedar logs, and the
only stuff that’s coming down is what floats down the river. They’ll
have a hell of a time this summer when the water is low. Bull, I’ve as
good as won that girl.”
“If she comes in she’ll bring Todd with her. He’s got a contract.”
“Of course. But Todd’s got self-respect and pride. No man with those
elements will stay with me when I don’t want him to—contract or no
contract.”
That night he called the Japanese firm’s attorney on the telephone. “The
Lowe people haven’t more than thirty cedar logs in their pond right
now,” he informed them, “and no sign of increasing their output. Their
superintendent is flat on his back—paralyzed. We are ready to help you
out. We’ve got the logs. Black Lake is full of ’em.”
The attorney thanked him and the following morning called first Bob Lowe
and finally Dorothy. He talked pleasantly, but at length and firmly. “It
is not that we wish to be hard, but time is an important element, Miss
Lowe, and delay will cost my clients considerable money. In turn they
must charge that cost to you.”
“I understand,” she answered.
With his usual perfect timing Ludwig “happened” to be in sight when
Dorothy came from the office. She was on her way to see Todd, but he
headed that off. “Here’s my proposition, Dorothy, and you’ll notice I’ve
made provision for Todd—if he ever recovers, which, frankly, his doctor
doubts. But, dear, you realize I must know. I’ve got to drum up some
business if you don’t go along with us. Once this is done I can’t offer
you the same terms. Look them over; ask Todd if you wish, you’ll find
them fair.”
“Give me twenty-four hours to decide,” she replied.
That morning she carried the proposition, which was in contract form to
Dan Todd.
The girl could never look at his lifeless lower limbs without
shuddering. Once so strong and capable, now they lay like twin pieces of
dead wood, good only to cause ridges in the bed coverings. Once she had
dropped the clock on his right leg and he did not know it happened.
* * * * *
He knew by the expression on her face a crisis was at hand. As she
leaned over to hand him the contract, the bobcat skin serving as a rug
slipped, throwing her forward. She fell across his legs and felt them
wince from the impact.
“Dan!” she cried. “Oh, Dan! You felt that!” She looked at him
searchingly, her face holding the mixed emotions of hope, doubt and
fear. Tears came slowly from her eyes. “Oh, Dan, aren’t you happy?”
“I felt it!” he admitted. “Let me read the contract while you fill the
water bucket—if you don’t mind.”
As she started for the creek, Dorothy suddenly realized the weather had
changed. The wind, which had been from the north, was slowly swinging
southward. “But it’s not the Chinook,” she mused, “the Chinook comes at
night.”
She grew a bit thoughtful and smiled softly. Dan Todd had come into her
life on a cold night and he had come from the south. She was just
beginning to realize how great was her joy over his partial recovery.
She dipped the clear water from a deep pool and the act sent a trout
scurrying upstream to cover. There was a song of peace in the creek that
morning. On another occasion it had brawled heedlessly along, reminding
one of the headstrong rush of an ungrateful child.
As she entered the cabin the water bucket slipped from her hand to the
floor. “Dan Todd!” she exclaimed, “you are up!”
“Yes, I’m up,” he answered. During the brief time she had been at the
creek he had dressed. “I’ve read the contract,” he added, “the time has
come to finish the fight. Within forty-eight hours many things will
happen.”
“But you should be in bed,” she protested.
“I am as good as ever. Perhaps I haven’t been entirely fair to you.
During the fight I was kicked in the back and a vertebra shifted
slightly, causing partial paralysis. It happened once before during my
football days. The doctor slipped it into place and after a week’s rest
I was as good as ever. I knew the moment I was on my feet the battle
would start and I wanted conditions of my own choosing. I’ve stayed in
bed when anyone was around, but I’ve done some prowling at night.”
“You speak of battle and we’ve a big order to fill. And you never did
tell me how that bid happened to be there on time?”
“I was afraid we might be blocked at the last minute and so I sent it in
a week ahead of time, intending to follow it with another bid if I could
bid lower.”
“Two jumps ahead as usual. But, Dan, can’t we have peace in this land?
Isn’t there enough business for both?”
“Yes, but Ludwig won’t let you have peace!” He blurted out the cold
statement.
“You don’t know him, Dan!”
“That’s it, I do. You don’t!” He saw she resented the trend the
conversation had taken. Warmth left her, she grew cold—icy.
“Now for the rest—” he began.
“I don’t care to hear more, Mr. Todd. A rival in business, yes, but he
won’t carry war to me! I’m going to have peace if we have to combine for
it. He was right. He said you always wanted trouble.”
“Granted! Where he’s concerned. Now, Dorothy Lowe, you are going to
listen to me.” No one had ever spoken to her like that. It surprised
her. “We win this fight in forty-eight hours or maybe lose it in the
end. I’m not going to lose a bit of the advantage I’ve gained. You’re
going to hear some things. You didn’t kill John Burke. I’ve said it
before. I repeat it.” She started to protest, but he silenced her. “And
neither did your brother!”
She gasped at that. “No one believes he did!” she cried nervously.
“Yes, many do. And you believe it! You also believe it was self-defense
and you are positive that if tried he would be convicted merely because
he’s a type these people don’t like. Isn’t that the truth?”
She refused to answer and he went on: “And so you accepted the blame to
save him. In turn he believes you were forced to kill Burke in
self-defense. But, even so, he was willing to go to the pen for it. You
wouldn’t let him take the blame, nor would the court. Oh, I know the
load you have each carried, and neither dare speak of it to the other.
For that, Dorothy, for that fine trait of character I’d go a long way
for either of you.”
“Then,” she asked in a strained tone of voice, “who did kill John Day
Burke?”
“I know, but I can’t prove it. Until I do— Well, there’s something
important we must attend to now.”
With a lunch in the pockets of his coat, Dan Todd led off with something
of his old-time swing. It had served his purpose to remain in bed, but
he had resented every hour of it.
For the most part he took seldom used trails and short cuts until
presently they stood on a ridge overlooking Ludwig’s stand of cedar. A
portion of it had been cut. “Stand here and count the stumps,” he
suggested, “each stump represents a tree; each tree several logs. I’ll
count, too!”
The girl was an hour completing the count, for she wanted to be
accurate. “Three hundred and five,” she announced.
“Near enough, I got two hundred and ninety-nine. Now we’ll have a look
at Black Lake.”
They walked down to the scene of the tragic night when Burke had been
found dead in the lodge and Dorothy unconscious in the rain. The lake
was dotted with logs, some of which had been there for months, others
recently.
“There are logs representing, roughly, nearly four hundred trees.
Remember only approximately three hundred have been cut from Ludwig’s
place. Besides that, Dorothy, he sold a lot of cedar during the year. In
other words, aside from his sales he still has more logs in reserve than
he could possibly have cut from his own land.”
“Where did he get them?”
“That requires another walk—to your own holdings. We’ll work along the
bank and—”
* * * * *
A strange voice broke in: “Just a minute, Todd, you’re supposed to be
sick!”
“I was sick,” Dan answered, facing Ludwig who had suddenly come upon
them. The man sensed his rival had made an unexpected move. His face was
a study. Dan looked at him sharply. Did he catch a glint of fear in his
eyes, as if Ludwig realized powerful forces were closing in on him? If
so, such an expression was instantly gone.
Ludwig turned to the girl. “What cock and bull yarn has he been dishing
up? Not that it makes any difference, for nothing he can say will hurt
my standing, but—”
“You are naturally curious,” Todd said. “We have been discussing the
merger of the Ludwig-Lowe interests. I have taken the negative—”
“As usual.”
“As usual where you are concerned,” Todd agreed. “We are wondering—or
rather she is, for I know—how you happen to have more logs on Black Lake
than you could possibly cut?”
“Are you suggesting—” Ludwig advanced with a snarl on his face.
The show-down had come at last. In rage, man and woman alike will say
more than when cool-headed. Out of Ludwig’s own mouth Dan Todd prepared
to convict him. “I’m saying,” he said, “that Burke was a tool of yours.
I’m saying that half the cedar logs cut from the Lowe timber lands
‘accidentally’ dropped into the south fork of Flaming River and floated
down into Black Lake. That you paid him to permit this. I’m saying that
every log on Black Lake is, by rights, Dorothy Lowe’s.”
“Try and get ’em!” Ludwig shouted. Facts and figures were against him.
“Try and get ’em! We’re ready for you in a court of law or a
free-for-all fight.”
“You are usually ready for a free-for-all,” Dan retorted, “and the ratio
is about four to one.”
Dorothy shot a quick glance at Dan. So he did know who it was that beat
him up!
“Try and get ’em!” challenged Ludwig. “I’ll show you up for what you
are. Make you the laughing stock of the Northwest. Dorothy, are you
going to believe this rot?”
“We plan to get them, Ludwig! There’s a lot of business to be finished
up in the next twenty-four hours. Getting Miss Lowe’s stolen logs back
is one of them. Oh, sure, undoubtedly some of the logs came from your
place, but you should have kept them apart—or branded them!”
He turned to the girl. It was best to leave an enemy on the defensive.
The blow had been dealt so quickly and with such force Ludwig had not
yet had time to think and cloud the issue. “Come on, Miss Lowe,” he
said.
As though in a dream the girl followed him. How swift and telling were
Dan Todd’s blows. At last she spoke: “Dan, do you think Mr. Ludwig
killed John Burke?”
“Fearing exposure when it was time to make a report to you, Burke might
have committed suicide, you know. But I don’t think he did.” And that
was all he would say until they reached the upper waters of Flaming
River.
Most streams fork and the stream is larger as a result, but Flaming
River was the reverse. There were many forks higher up, but for several
miles the main stream flowed along fed only by small creeks. Then it
struck a rough area and split. A fourth of the water ran along an
ancient channel and emptied into Black Lake, from which it eventually
flowed on to the Sound. The larger northern fork ran directly to the
Sound, emptying at a point half a mile from the south fork water. It was
said that miners after placer gold, sixty years before, had diverted the
water in order to work the gravel in the south fork, which was the
natural course.
When they were on the ground Dan Todd pointed. “See, Dorothy, how simple
it is?”
High above them stretched a network of cables. A donkey engine’s whistle
gave a sharp blast and through the air, sixty feet above the south fork,
swung a cedar log. It moved on, was picked up by another lead and
carried to the north fork where it was dropped in the water. “Your
logs,” he said. “Wait, there’ll be another before long!”
When the next log was over the south fork Todd shouted an order. The
cable slacked away and presently the cedar floated. A man scrambled down
the bank and removed the cable, the log floated leisurely down the
stream, bumping from bank to bank, and presently vanished. “It’s on its
way to Ludwig,” Dan said. “See how simple it is!”
“And you’ve known this for a year?” she demanded. “Why didn’t you tell
me?”
“You must remember I believed Burke represented your ideas in logging
matters. They were opposed to mine. I couldn’t see that it made any
difference if Peter was robbed to pay Paul. Besides, I had no definite
proof—merely rumor. Now you know everything. In case something happens
you’ll know what to expect; how to proceed!”
“In case something happens,” she repeated, “to you? Oh, Dan, hasn’t
enough happened already?”
“Nothing is going to happen,” he said quickly. But the way she looked at
him thrilled Dan Todd. It is queer how love sneaks in when no one is
looking and Cupid shuffles the cards. “Dorothy!” he said in a low tone
filled with emotion. And then something did happen.