Chapter VII: Low Bid

In the office of a Seattle lawyer three well-dressed and quiet Japanese gentlemen watched the clock. At last one of them spoke. “The time has expired. We will open the bids?”

Ludwig, showing the effects of a hard all night ride, shifted his feet nervously. “How many bids, gentlemen?”

“Two!”

Ludwig was puzzled. He had good reason to believe his was the only bid. As luck would have it, his was read first.

“At the estimated quantities and grades,” the lawyer droned, “the Ludwig people bid four hundred and ninety thousand dollars.

“The second bid,” the lawyer continued, “is that of the Lowe Lumber Company.”

Ludwig gasped and looked sharply at his companion, Buck Yates, who for the occasion had left his cougar home, but wore a gun in a shoulder holster. “Wonder how that got in?”

The lawyer was speaking. “At the estimated quantities and grades, the Lowe people bid four hundred and forty-nine thousand dollars even.”

Ludwig stood up. “Is there a certified check with that bid, as required?”

“There is! Is any representative of the Lowe Company present? No! Peculiar. Oh, well, we will notify them by telephone.”

“In case the Lowe people are unable to carry out the contract at any time,” he informed the Japanese, “we stand ready to fill any portion of the order at our bid price.”

The Japanese thanked him, and one of them, in perfect English, added: “We will take advantage of your generous offer, sir, should occasion arise!” They bowed, indicating that Ludwig might withdraw.

Outside of the building Ludwig turned to Yates: “When do you suppose that bid went in? I know for a fact he was figuring on it two days ago. He was working on it the night we sent in that fake call from Robertson. I can’t figure it, unless—say! I get it now. He put in the lowest bid he dared, then figured to check up again and, if possible, put in a supplementary and lower bid. You heard what the Jap said?”

“Yes, they’d fall back on us if Lowes failed to make good,” Yates answered.

An interruption came in the form of one of Ludwig’s friends. “Why so glum? Been accused of murder? Or is it a toothache?”

“Came out second best on a five hundred thousand dollar deal,” Ludwig retorted.

“Too bad. Say, speaking of murder. That was a pretty girl that bumped off Burke. Know her?”

“Very well!”

“And she really did it?”

“Undoubtedly,” Ludwig agreed. “Why?”

“Then she’s a cold little devil. Her conscience isn’t bothering her, from what I hear. Somehow I figured it different.”

“In what way?” Ludwig was deeply interested.

“I’m probably barking up a tree, but I figure the brother turned the trick and she’s protecting him. That pair’d do anything for each other, they say.”

“That is one way of looking at it,” Ludwig answered. He waved a farewell, climbed behind the wheel of his car and started for home. He thought he had moved fast, but in each instance Dan Todd had moved faster. “I wonder,” he presently mused, “if Todd’s been found yet?”

“Yes,” mumbled Yates, “I wonder! Say, my cat didn’t miss him far. There’s a claw furrow on that horse’s leg.”

Ludwig learned a number of things when he had reached home. Dan Todd was not expected to live. Where was he? Some said he was in the Lowe home, others claimed he was in a cabin in the woods, in too bad a shape to move!

Ludwig reached for the telephone, called the Lowe home, but there was no answer. He changed his clothing and, with Yates, boarded a speeder and headed for the upper country, where cedars stood as thick as grain.

There was much for him to congratulate himself over. His logging roads extended within a half mile of the Lowe timber. To reach the big stand of cedar they must either rent his roads, which he would not do; use Black Lake and the river, which he could stop because it was not navigable water and a portion of it ran entirely through his place, or, and this was the only course—build a road to the timber, which would eat up the profits.

Try as he would, he could see no outlet for his rival—except the combine. And this he was now in a position to enforce. With a rush it came over him Todd had played into his hands without realizing it. But, in the end, if the forester did have something up his sleeve, it was still in Ludwig’s power to break the Lowe Timber Company.

Ludwig returned to Black Lake. Its surface was dotted with fine cedar logs—hundreds of them. On a moment’s notice he could start those logs to his mill and have a steady stream of lumber pouring into the hold of some vessel flying the flag of the rising sun.

In a pleasant frame of mind he returned home. Again he called Dorothy Lowe’s residence; again there was no answer. It was queer, he thought.

* * * * *

For several moments after Dan Todd had torn Bob Lowe’s shirt open and disclosed the marks of his calks, neither man spoke. Dan was too exhausted from the effort, Bob too dumbfounded at the unexpected exposure. Finally he spoke. “Don’t tell her, Todd. I know what she thinks.”

“Why shouldn’t I tell her?”

“For her sake you shouldn’t!”

“Something in that. Well, for the first time in my life my silence can be bought. It’ll cost you plenty. Will you pay it?”

“To the limit. Shh! Here she comes!”

Dorothy made a brim in the top of the hat and Todd drank after a fashion. The water was cold and pure, fresh from the snowfields above. It gave him new life. Yet when he stirred it was agony. A doctor would have tugged away at his jaw and said, “Internal injuries. The outcome will be in doubt for several days.”

“What shall we do, Dan?” The girl regarded him with a worried look. She had seen the gray come to his face when he moved unexpectedly.

“Get me down to the Maple Creek cabin,” he said. “Cut a couple of poles, make a stretcher, let one end drag and pull the other—Indian fashion. I can stand it!”

Bob Lowe, frantic to please now that Todd had identified him as one of his assailants, worked with a will. The completed job was somewhat crude, but it served the purpose. Dorothy led the way with the flashlight, Bob dragged the stretcher. There was no pain after the first jolt, for Dan Todd had fainted.

When he regained consciousness the girl was hovering over him and there was a soft bunk beneath his battered body. But there was a strange sensation, or perhaps lack of it, that worried him. His legs seemed half dead, half alive.

While Lowe built a fire his sister started for the creek for water. Again they were alone. “Where’s Dorothy?” Dan inquired.

“Gone for water!”

“Then we’re alone!”

“Yes!” Bob Lowe acted like a man before a judge for sentence. “What do you want to keep still?” He shifted uneasily. “I’ll pay anything within reason to keep her from knowing I had a hand in this.”

“Who was with you?”

“I won’t tell!”

“That’s something in your favor. I hate a squealer. You don’t need to tell. I left a mark on most of ’em. How strong will you go, Lowe?”

“Five thousand dollars! That’s my limit. Take it or leave it!”

“I’ll leave it,” Dan answered. “You’ve got a lot to learn, Bob, about men and life. Here’s my price. Put on a pair of overalls and go to work. Learn the logging and lumber game from the ground up. Then you won’t have to rely on me, or combine with Ludwig. You can stand on your own hind legs.”

“I think the merger with Ludwig is the thing,” Bob growled. “To get that cedar we’ll have to build roads. Working with Ludwig will make that unnecessary.

“She’ll be here in a minute. I’ll pay your price; but remember, I have never liked you and never will. Any time I can get rid of you I’ll do so. I’m ashamed of the beating up, hiding behind a mask. I didn’t know they were going as strong. Anyway, I didn’t have a chance to do much; you put me out early in the fight. Now we understand each other. Enemies—open enemies.”

“Yes. You’re my open enemy, Bob. I’m your friend as long as you’ll hit the ball.”

And then Dorothy entered. “I’m going to town,” she informed them.

“Not at this time of night,” Todd protested.

“With the flashlight I can find my way. You need a doctor. Bob can take care of you. You’ll have to be moved around some and he’s stronger. I think you should have a warm bath, any way.”

As was usual when she took a stand, Dorothy Lowe had her way. A half hour later Bob was bathing the bruised body he had had a part in creating. Here were toe marks caused by the impact of heavy boots, there the marks of naked fists. The primitive fights of the camps are not pleasant. On the spine was a blue, hard lump that gave him a start. It suggested a fracture. He wondered how long before the doctor could get there. What would he say; what action would the sheriff take?

While Bob worked and worried, his sister hurried through the timbered valley that was hers. She was afraid—afraid of the very silence and the soft rustlings of furred creatures slinking about their nocturnal affairs.

Well toward morning she left the timber behind and looked down on the little lumber settlement. In the distance a lighted house twinkled. The whine of saws came from her own mill. Dan Todd had created enough business to run a part-time night shift.

He was talking of planting trees in cut-over land. He said she would take another profit in her lifetime from the land. This would come from second-growth timber cut from the land for ship and yacht masts, telephone poles, piling and bridge timbers.

She called the doctor on the nearest telephone, sent him on his way, then returned home for a brief rest. In the morning she planned to return and care for Dan Todd. He had been hurt in her fight. Investigations would be in order too.

As she was just reaching for the light switch the telephone rang. She answered it; it was Ludwig. “Sorry to call you this time of the night, Dorothy, but I’ve been worried. I saw a light in your window.”

“Mr. Todd’s been found, beaten nearly to death by a gang of cowards.” She breathed rapidly at the thought. “I’ve sent the doctor out and Bob is caring for him.”

“Not serious?”

“Very serious. He doesn’t realize it, but I think he is paralyzed from the waist down.”

“Too bad! Too bad! Of course, I’ve always held he was an impractical obstructionist, but I don’t like this rough stuff. Now for something more cheerful to you, Dorothy. My congratulations on winning the big contract.”

“What! We didn’t have our bid in, did we?”

“Very much so. You are low, with a fair chance of breaking even if you build a road to your timber, and a nice profit if you care to merge with us. But more of that later. Think it over. Good night, dear!”

“Good night, Sim!”