Chapter IV: “get Dan Todd!”

The finest thing that the wives of the loggers, sawmill men, and shingle-weavers ever said about Dorothy Lowe was her devotion to her brother. It, in their eyes, amounted to something beautiful. The girl’s confidence that within Bob Lowe’s shell dwelled a man was supreme. Privately they knew him to be an arrogant rotter with too much money and too much education. As for her, she was cold-blooded and a snob, but they loved each other. That made up for a lot.

There is always an inside story and it was whispered among the women that “there had been a wild party, Burke had become rough as was his custom; Bob had killed Burke and Dorothy had taken the blame, knowing public opinion was so strong against her brother that a jury would undoubtedly convict him.”

They also discussed Dan Todd. He was popular among them; of them, in fact. “Only this morning my Bill says to me, says he: ‘Helen, Dan Todd aims to keep the mill and camp going steady. But to do that he’ll have to cut in on Sim Ludwig’s business and that means war, so we may have work and we may not a month from now.’ That was my Bill’s very words.” She sighed. “Oh, well, if we only get some of the back bills paid up I’ll not complain!”

Helen’s “Bill” had undoubtedly called the turn. Dan Todd had gone into the market and bid low on several big jobs before Ludwig realized what it was all about. His office manager was the first to present figures.

“And, sir, it came at a bad time. Todd’s profit will be low, but he’ll keep his crew together and that’s what he wants. It means we’ll have to shut down. The situation is just the reverse of what it was when Mr. Burke was managing things. Then it was their mill and camp that ran short time.”

Ludwig glanced at the figures and frowned. An empire of timber was almost in his grasp three months previous, then the Lowe children had to celebrate their twenty-first birthday. Burke would listen to reason and thus enable Ludwig to dominate the market. What with his spruce and fir and the Lowe’s cedar he could talk business with any of them—few such stands of timber left so close to tidewater.

He jammed on his hat and stalking down to the railroad track ordered out a speeder. A few minutes later he was chugging into the timber at a brisk rate. Slowing down and finally coming to a stop Ludwig hurried down a narrow path and stopped at a cabin almost hidden among the trees. A half mile away ran the Forest Service trail, following the line between the Ludwig and Lowe holdings. The occupant of the cabin was in a position to watch the trail and river.

Ludwig did not enter the cabin, but stood a safe distance away and yelled. On the porch, enjoying the sun, lay a full-grown cougar. The cat seemed harmless enough, but Ludwig was taking no chances. Presently the door opened. A man bulking large and dark filled the doorway. Recognizing his visitor his attitude changed from sneering contempt to an almost fawning manner. He grinned, caught the cougar by a collar and dragged it to a cage. “Hello, Mr. Ludwig!”

“Hello, Yates! They’re opening bids in Seattle next week for nearly five hundred thousand dollars’ worth of cedar lumber. It’s going to Japan. Have we got that much floating around Black Lake?”

“No.” He grinned. “Give me time and I can get it.”

“Don’t be so sure. Have you considered Todd?”

“Sure!”

“Figure out some way of getting him, Yates. He’s popular among the rabble so it’ll have to be done in a natural way. A fall over a cliff or—”

Yates shook his head. “They might find the tracks of the man that pushed him over. That’s no way to get rid of a popular man. How much time have I got?”

“I don’t want that cedar bid to go in,” Ludwig answered, “you’ve got until next Tuesday night!”

Yates looked at the cougar. “Did you ever hear tell of a man walking along a trail and a hungry cougar dropped on him? No? Well, it’s liable to happen any day if a cougar is hungry enough.”

“I thought cougars were afraid of men?”

“I know of one that ain’t.”

* * * * *

The whine of a saw eating its way into a log to the accompaniment of the “Pouf! Pouf! Pouf!” of the steam engine is sweet music to a lumberman. Steam was pluming up from the exhaust; the air being crisp it lingered. The dread expression in the men’s eyes had gone, Dan Todd noticed. He rubbed his hands. “Lord, I wish it were mine!” he exclaimed.

“And if it were?”

The voice came directly behind him. He flushed and turned. “Good morning, Miss Lowe!”

“And if all this were yours?” she repeated. “What would you do with it?”

“Just as I am doing,” he answered.

“And that is what I want you to do. The men seem contented.”

“They are, but don’t forget the women who have a heck of a time trying to make ends meet when work is not steady. I’ve told them if we can get the business we’ll keep things going.”

“And you a conservationist?” she suggested.

“Timber was made to cut,” he replied. “My quarrel is with those who will do nothing toward reseeding the cut-over areas.”

They watched a log move slowly down the pond as the boom man’s pike pole forced it from the others. A steel conveyor moving under water, caught the end and started it upward. After that the timber knew no idle moment.

A man moved levers and a nigger with hands of steel picked it up and slammed it about as though it were a toothpick. He was the head sawyer, who can make or break a lumberman when the margin of profits is narrow.

The log rushed forward and a whining band saw ate off a slab. Back it came again and the next slice was a board. Again and again it was repeated. Conveyors hurried the log, now lumber, away. Thus in six minutes’ time a log that had taken six hundred years to grow was cut up.

The girl and man watched the process in silence. They had learned what many learn—that many are not as bad as they are painted. She had regarded him as an impractical dreamer, but honest. She needed honesty. In turn he had regarded her as a spoiled little snob, beautiful but dumb.

Time had proved each wrong. She turned impulsively to him. “Mr. Todd, I’m sorry for some of the things I said when we first met.”

“All is forgiven,” he said, smiling. “In turn I’m sorry for some of the things I thought, but did not express.”

“Others are not so considerate,” she said seriously.

“Meaning?”

“People in town! They sneer behind my back and I know what they are saying. ‘Little killer!’”

“But you didn’t kill him.”

“I said I did. Do you doubt my word, Mr. Todd?”

“Yes, I do, but only in that matter. I’ve my own conclusions and I am working on the case. When I find the guilty party—”

“Please don’t!” she pleaded.

“I can’t do otherwise,” he insisted. “In any event it will be self-defense and not difficult to prove.”

Abruptly she changed the subject. “I was warned to-day not to bid on that Japanese contract. I was told it will be difficult to collect!”

“The terms are cash, f. o. b. ship’s tackle. That means when the stuff is on the dock ready for the steamer we’ll be paid. We can’t lose. If we don’t bid, this will have to stop.”

With a wave of his hand he indicated the activity. In the distance a woman was hanging out a row of kiddies’ clothing. They could not hear her, but she was singing. “And when this stops she’ll be too busy worrying to sing.”

“That is all I wanted to know. This is the first time in years this mill has showed a good profit and I can’t understand it. Everything is running so nicely—”

“Which is warning for me to watch out. This smooth sailing is resented in certain quarters. That resentment will take form sooner or later. It has started already.”

“Yes?”

“That warning against bidding. But I’m going ahead. My bid will be in by Tuesday night.”

Bob Lowe sauntered into view. He had never forgiven Todd’s testimony against his sister. “Came down to drive you home, sis,” he announced. “Ready?” He glanced briefly at the superintendent. “Hello, Todd!”

“Hello,” Dan returned, as brief. He knew an enemy when he saw one.

Brother and sister walked down to the car together. “Ludwig wants to talk to you, Dorothy. Listen, as a combination our holdings would become a power in the West. Overhead would be less, profit more. I’m for listening to him.”

“We’re making a profit now, every one seems contented, and the hate, yes, Bob, that’s the word, hate, that so many held for us has died down somewhat. We are regarded as people. I rather like it.” She regarded him seriously. “I wish you’d go to work in the mill!”

“What, under Todd? Not in a thousand years. Kick Todd out, combine with Ludwig and I’ll put on overalls and work my head off.”

She turned to him quickly. “Will you?” she asked. “I’d do most anything if you would!”

“You’ve done a lot for me already.”

“Yes,” she said softly, her face paling, “I’ve done a lot.”

“And I’d do as much for you. Will you consider a combine?”

“Yes, Bob, I will.”

Later, when Ludwig helped the girl into his car, Bob Lowe smiled softly. “They look great!” he cried. “There’s a real combination. Damn that fellow Todd.” He spoke now between set teeth. “He’s influencing sis in some way. Damn him! She was never influenced before. Still, maybe after all she’s stringing him along. Yes, that’s it, she’s stringing him along. When he’s working for her he’s not raising the deuce.”

* * * * *

A gravel road, trees on either side, whose tops met; glimpses of blue water and snow-capped peaks—Puget Sound after a winter’s rain. The car moved leisurely. Ludwig finally spoke: “Bidding on the big job? If it’s not a fair question, don’t answer it. I try to be fair.”

“I know you do, Sim! Yes, we are bidding. Is it wise?”

“Unless you go too low, then it’s disaster. They’re requiring a hundred thousand dollar bond to insure performance. Why not a combine? We could get a good price. Now it will be competition.”

He eyed her narrowly, guessed her thoughts and continued. “It would be great for Bob. He’s for it. The lad has the stuff if it’s developed. I can do it. He’s reached the turning point in his career. And, he’s not happy with Todd running things. Combine? Can’t we make it more than a combine, Dorothy? I’ve loved you for two years now; ever since you returned from school—grown up.”

He slipped his arm about her. “I love you, Dorothy,” he repeated.

“I’ve always admired you,” she answered, “but as to love—I’m afraid not, Sim.”

“You are going to love me,” he insisted, “together we’re going to work for Bob’s betterment. And then—you’ll give me that chance.”

“Yes, to help Bob. As to a combination, that requires thought. You must prove to me and to Dan Todd that it will be worth while.”

He snorted in disgust. “That damn fool! I couldn’t prove white was white to him. But if you want business statistics, I’ll give them to you. If I can’t show a larger margin of profit than he can I’ll quit the lumber business and make him president of my company. Read this when you have time. Every cent made right here at the home mill.”

He drove on to where the road turned off and a sign warned:

BEWARE—LOGGING TRUCKS!

Trucks bearing great logs were moving over a timber roadway, consisting of a sort of planked track, each a little wider than the wheel. It was cheaper than steel rails and a truck could go up steeper grades. “One way of lessening the overhead,” he pointed out. There were others, too. No doubt of it, Sim Ludwig knew the lumber business. She was impressed, and he was satisfied with the day’s drive when he dropped her off at home.

Dan Todd was waiting for her with a weekly report. She glanced at the figures, then, somewhat timidly, he thought, suggested the combination. He listened attentively. “Combinations are good or bad, depending on the parties. Did he give facts and figures?”

“Yes!” she handed him the report. He studied it with interest. “Better showing than I can make,” he admitted. Presently he whistled. “Where’d he get all the cedar?”

“Off his land, I suppose. He has a nice stand of cedar on that flat!”

Todd changed the subject somewhat. “Before you combine there are some things you should know. In some respects Ludwig’s cedar output reminds me of the widow’s cruse of oil. Some day in the near future we’ll look at the cruse. Understand, you are to do whatever you think best. I am always willing to step out, though you employed me for a year.”

Again she left him with the impression he knew more than he was disclosing. Beyond doubt Ludwig and Todd were bitter enemies. Which should she believe, Ludwig the practical, whom she had known for years, or Todd the dreamer, commanding, handsome, as straight as a fir tree, whom she had known unfavorably by reputation for two years and personally for two months?

It was a question she alone must decide. And always in the background was the desire of her brother. They would do anything for each other and take the consequences. She decided to do nothing that day, but wait until she had had a good night’s rest.

Dorothy did not fall asleep immediately. Various phases of the situation returned again and again to demand solution. What was the secret of Dan Todd’s influence over her? Was she in love? Impossible. She had loved no man except her brother. Was it the instinctive sense of womankind that so often points the right course? Or what? Toward midnight she dropped off to sleep.

Down at the mill office Dan Todd was laboring over a bid blank. Over an item he paused. “Maybe I’d better have another look at the Lowe cedar before I go quite that close on logging costs! Can’t afford to go into the hole. Still I should know what it will cost without looking.”