Part 40 (1/2)

Wheeler filled his pipe. ”Now,” he said reflectively, ”anybody can apply for timber rights, and bid for them at public auction, but the man who secures them must cut up so many thousand feet every month.

Since that's the case, it's quite evident that n.o.body is likely to bid for timber rights round the valley, except the Charters people, who have a little mill on the Klatchquot Inlet, and they'd probably get the timber rights 'most for nothing, though they might have to put in a new saw or two with the object of satisfying the Legislature.”

”It's rather difficult to see how they expect to make a profit on hemlock in view of what it would cost them to get the logs there,”

Gordon broke in.

”They don't want to make a profit.” Wheeler smiled. ”Seems to me it's their programme to get hold of the rights cheap, and then worry you because they can't run the logs through this canon. The Legislature won't give you land or rights to do nothing with, and it's quite likely the Charters people will file a notification that your workings are the obstacle. Still, they'd probably make you an offer first. If you let them in on the ground-floor--handed them a big slice of the valley or something of the kind--they'd let up on their timber rights.

I'm not sure they could run good milling fir to that mill at a profit.”

A grim look crept into Nasmyth's face. Difficulties were crowding thick upon him, and though he was as determined as ever on proceeding with the work, he almost felt that it would be only until they crushed him.

”It seems to me we are in the hands of the Charters people, unless I can keep the canon clear,” he commented.

Wheeler's eyes twinkled. ”Well,” he returned, ”they're smart. I have, however, come across smart folks who missed a point or two occasionally. Now, I saw a couple of red cedar logs among that hemlock.”

He glanced at Mattawa. ”Tom, you've been round the head of the valley.

Did you strike any trees of that kind up yonder?”

”A few,” answered Mattawa. ”It's quite likely there are more.”

”A sure thing. You and I are going out timber-right prospecting at sun-up to-morrow. Just now they can't get red cedar s.h.i.+ngles fast enough on to the Eastern markets.”

Nasmyth looked up and Gordon laughed a soft laugh, while Wheeler waved his hand.

”Anyone can bid for timber rights,” he declared. ”Now, our folks are open for any business, and we have got a mill. It's not going to cost much to put a s.h.i.+ngle-splitting plant in. We have easy water-carriage to the Inlet, where a schooner can load, and the Charters people would have to tow their raw material right along to their mill. Besides, that Inlet's a blame awkward place to get a schooner in. It's quite clear to me we could cut s.h.i.+ngles way cheaper than they could.” He paused for a moment. ”Yes,” he said, ”if there's milling cedar near the valley, our folks will make their bid. If Charters wants those rights, he'll have to put up the money, and it's quite likely we'll take them up in spite of him if I'm satisfied with my prospecting. In that case, we're not going to worry you about the canon. In fact, we would probably make you a proposition at so much the log for running the trees down for us.”

He filled his pipe again, and Nasmyth looked at him with relief in his eyes.

CHAPTER XXVIII

A PAINFUL DUTY

Three months had slipped away since the evening on which Wheeler had discussed the subject of s.h.i.+ngle-splitting with his companions.

Nasmyth stood outside the shanty in the drenching rain. He was very wet and miry, and his face was lined and worn, for the three months of unremitting effort had left their mark on him. Wheeler had secured the timber rights in question, and that was one difficulty overcome, but Nasmyth had excellent reasons for believing that the men who had cast covetous eyes upon the valley had by no means abandoned the attempt to get possession of at least part of it.

He had had flood and frost against him, and his money was rapidly running out. A wild flood swept through the canon. The heading was filled up, so that no one could even see the mouth of it, and half the rock he had piled upon the s.h.i.+ngle had been swept into the rapid, where it had formed a dam among the boulders that could be removed only at a heavy expenditure of time and powder when the water fell. He was worn out in body, and savage from being foiled by the swollen river at each attempt he made, but while the odds against him were rapidly growing heavier he meant to fight.

A Siwash Indian whom he had hired as messenger between the canon and the settlement had just arrived, and Gordon, who stood in the doorway of the shanty, took a newspaper out of the wet packet he had brought.

Gordon turned to Nasmyth when he opened it.

”Wheeler's getting ahead,” he said. ”Here's his announcement that his concern is turning out a high-grade cedar s.h.i.+ngle. That's satisfactory so far as it goes. I don't quite know how we'd have held out if it hadn't been for the money we got from him for running the logs down.”

Then his voice grew suddenly eager. ”Try to get hold of the significance of this, Derrick: 'We have got it on reliable authority that certain propositions for the exploitation of the virgin forest-belt beyond the b.u.t.te Divide will shortly be laid before the Legislature. It is expected that liberal support will be afforded to a project for the making of new waggon-roads, and we believe that if the scheme is adopted certain gentlemen in this city will endeavour to inaugurate a steamboat service with the Western inlets.'” He waved his hand. ”When this particular paper makes an a.s.sertion of that kind, there's something going on,” he added. ”It's a sure thing that if those roads are made, it will put another thirty or forty cents on to every dollar's worth of land we're holding.”

”Exactly,” replied Nasmyth, whose tense face did not relax. ”That is, it would, if we had run the water out of the valley; but, as it happens, we haven't cut down very much of the fall yet, and this thing is going to make the men we have against us keener than ever. They're probably plotting how to strike us now. Get those letters open.”

There was anxiety in his voice, and Gordon started when he had ripped open one or two of the envelopes.