ight have kept on thinkin'
that the P. K. &. R. railroad company was the biggest thing in the
world. All young men want to work for the biggest folks. But I reckon
by this time you have found out that Gideon Ward and the Lumbermen's
Association come pretty near bein' lord of all they survey in this
country. There, young man! The cards are down. Look at 'em! I'm pretty
rough and I'm pretty tough and I play the game for all that's in me. But
when it's over you won't find any cards up my sleeve nor down the back
of my neck--and you can't always say that of your smooth city chaps."

Parker sat with his elbows on his knees, looking down at the floor, his
forehead wrinkled. He was a pretty sturdy young American in principles
and conduct, but at the same time he had all of young America's
appreciation of the main chance. And the main chance in these days lies
along the road where the dollars are sprinkled thickest. He reflected
that the building of the little bob-tail railroad had been tossed at him
as a rather silly and secret escapade of two big men who were already
half ashamed of the whole business. He realized that in their present
frame of mind they would be inclined to close out the whole thing
in disgust as soon as they received news of the destruction of the
property.

When he got back to town he would simply remind them of a mutual failure
to accomplish, and the history of such reminders is that they have been
side-tracked in some places where their presence could not remind.

"You know there isn't goin' to be any hurry about your givin' up your
present job--not till spring has got well opened and the ice is out
of Spinnaker," said Colonel Ward slyly, breaking in on the young man's
meditations. "There's always a right time for re-signin' and we'll
discover that time. But your five thousand will be put to your credit in
Kenduskeag Bank the next day after you sign our papers, and your salary
with us will begin the minute the ink is dry. You'll have double pay for
a while, but I reckon you'll be earnin' it." He chuckled once more.

Parker, surveying his red cheek knobs, his cruel gray eyes narrowed now
in evil mirth, recollected with a photographic flash of memory of the
details of that story the postmaster at Sunkhaze had told him. This
was the same man who had coolly stolen wife and property from his own
brother and then had jeered at him, probably with that same expression
puckering about his evil, gray eyes. In t