d board feet weighs about one ton. This is the weight of an
ordinary iron safe. When one of them rolls or falls from even a moderate
height, its force is irresistible. But when twenty or thirty cascade
down the bold front of a skidway, carrying a man or so with them, the
affair becomes a catastrophe.

Thorpe's men, however, were all old-timers, and nothing of the sort
occurred. At first it made him catch his breath to see the apparent
chances they took; but after a little he perceived that seeming luck was
in reality a coolness of judgment and a long experience in the peculiar
ways of that most erratic of inanimate cussedness--the pine log. The
banks grew daily. Everybody was safe and sound.

The young lumberman had sense enough to know that, while a crew such
as his is supremely effective, it requires careful handling to keep it
good-humored and willing. He knew every man by his first name, and each
day made it a point to talk with him for a moment or so. The subject was
invariably some phase of the work. Thorpe never permitted himself the
familiarity of introducing any other topic. By this course he
preserved the nice balance between too great reserve, which chills
the lumber-jack's rather independent enthusiasm, and the too great
familiarity, which loses his respect. He never replied directly to an
objection or a request, but listened to it non-committally; and later,
without explanation or reasoning, acted as his judgment dictated. Even
Shearer, with whom he was in most intimate contact, respected this trait
in him. Gradually he came to feel that he was making a way with his men.
It was a status, not assured as yet nor even very firm, but a status for
all that.

Then one day one of the best men, a teamster, came in to make some
objection to the cooking. As a matter of fact, the cooking was perfectly
good. It generally is, in a well-conducted camp, but the lumber-jack is
a great hand to growl, and he usually begins with his food.

Thorpe listened to his vague objections in silence.

"All right," he remarked simply.

Next day he touched the man on the shoulder just as he was starting to
work.

"Step into the office and get your time," said he.

"What's the matter?" asked the man.

"I don't need you any longer."

The two entered the little office. Thorpe looked through the ledger and
van book, and finally handed the man his slip.

"Where do I get this?" asked the teamster, looking at it uncertainly.

"At