"You forget, unfortunately, that I am forced to
be accessory to your -- your change of heart. I
may say that I shall have to pay dearly for your --
your eleventh hour conversion. Timber will be --
unsteady."

"Didn't you mention getting something out of it?"

"A mere detail to my effort, my time. What my
timber will be worth, with what you throw on the
market hawking up and down... problematic."

Gordon Makimmon hesitated, a plan forming
vaguely, painfully, in his mind. Finally, "I might
buy you out," he suggested; "if you didn't ask too
dam' much. Then I could do as I pleased with the
whole lot."

"Now that," Valentine Simmons admitted, dryly
cordial, "is a plan worth consideration. We might
agree on a price, a low price to an old partner. You
met the Company's agents, heard the agreement outlined;
a solid proposal. And, as you say, with the
timber control in your own hands, you could arrange
as you pleased with the people concerned."

He grew silent, enveloped in thought. Then:

"I'll take a hundred thousand for all the options
I bought, for my interest in the partnership."

"I don't know as I could manage that," Gordon
admitted.

An unassumed astonishment marked the other's
countenance. "Why!" he ejaculated, "Pompey left

[[324]]

p323 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p324w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p325

v?