he snorted. "A child may answer that thing.
You think? Oh, yes, you think." The hand supporting his cigar made a
gesture that implied everything disparaging. "Our man--this Martin--has
gone out of Sachigo because--of you? I tell you, no! Does a man give up
the money, the big plan he makes, at the sight of an--agent? He took you
in his hand and sent you to the swine life of the forest where he could
have crushed you like that." He gripped the empty air. "Then he
goes--where? You say he fears and quits. What does he fear? You?" The
man shook his head till his cheeks were shaken by the violence of his
movement. "He goes somewhere. But he does not quit. That is clear. Oh,
yes. The mill goes on. It grows and prospers. The man Harker remains.
Where comes the money for Sachigo to grow? Trade? Yes, some. But not
all. I know these things. The mill goes on--the same as with Martin
there. So Martin does not quit. He--just goes. Then who sets this Bull
Sternford in the mill? Why? He says, 'This man can do the things I
need.' Well? Say quick to your man, 'Do not leave this camp of
Skandinavia.' Martin is there, or near by. He must know this Father
Adam, too. He must be in touch with him. Maybe he watches the
Skandinavia work. Maybe he plays his game so. Maybe he goes from Sachigo
for that reason. Yes?"

The financier's undisguised contempt left the agent apparently
undisturbed.

"That's the simple horse sense of it," Idepski retorted promptly. "I get
all that. But you're wrong when you say, Martin's playing any other game
than lying low because of one hell of a scare. I know him. You think you
know him because you can't get away from judging a man from your end.
However, that don't matter a shuck. I've told that man of mine to stop
around. Don't worry. I told him that right away. I told him to watch
this missionary." He shook his head. "Nothing doing. The missionary has
quit. As I said, I'm right back from Sachigo. I didn't come back just to
hand you this stuff. I'm on my way up to this camp of yours. We've been
hunting this guy eight years--blind. Now there's a streak of daylight.
I'm going for that streak myself. Anyway, it's liable to be pleasanter
work than lumbering in the booms at Sachigo, and wondering when that
feller Bat Harker, was going to locate me through a lumber-jack's
outfit. And while I'm up there I mean to learn all I can of this Father
Adam. I don't look for much that way. He's just a missioner that every
feller