Chapter VIII: 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.