he had accomplished a work
which Philip had not thought possible to achieve that autumn. He had
figured that the heavy snows of winter would cut them off at the trail.
And MacDougall was beyond the trail, with three weeks to spare!
Something rose up in his blood, warming him with an elation which sent
him walking swiftly toward the end of the road-bed. A quarter of a mile
out on the plain he came to the working end. About him were scattered
half a dozen big scoop shovels and piles of working tools. The embers
of a huge log fire still glowed where dinner had been cooked for the
men. Philip stood for a few moments, looking off into the distance.
Another mile and a half out there was the Gray Beaver, and from the
Gray Beaver there lay the unbroken waterway to the point of their
conjunction with the railway coming up from the south. A sudden idea
occurred to Philip. If MacDougall had built two and a quarter miles of
road-bed in five weeks they could surely complete this other mile and a
half before winter stopped them. In that event, they would have fifteen
miles of road, linking seven lakes, which would give them a splendid
winter trail for men, teams, and dogs to the Gray Beaver. And from the
Gray Beaver they would have smooth ice for twenty miles, to the new
road. He had not planned to begin fishing operations until spring, but
he could see no reason now why they should not commence that winter,
setting their nets through the ice. At Lobstick Creek, where the new
road would reach them sometime in April or May, they could freeze their
fish and keep them in storage. Five hundred tons in stock, and perhaps
a thousand, would not be a bad beginning. It would mean from forty to
eighty thousand dollars, a half of which could be paid out in dividends.
He turned back, whistling softly. There was new life in him, burning
for action. He was eager to see MacDougall, and he hoped that Brokaw
would not be long in reaching Blind Indian Lake. Before he reached the
trail he was planning the accommodation stations, where men and animals
could find shelter. There would be one on the shore of the Gray Beaver,
and from there he would build them at regular intervals of five miles
on the ice.
He had come to the trail, and was about to turn in the direction of the
camp, when he saw a shadowy figure making its way slowly across the
plain which he had traversed half an hour before. The manner in which
this person was following in his footste
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