th big notions? Here, what are you
asking? An inland boom with capacity for anything over a million cords.
Well? It's damn ridiculous talking the size of the notion. This hollow
is fixed right. Its bed is ten feet below the bed of the river. It's
surrounded with a natural ridge on all sides a hundred and fifty feet
high. There's a quarter mile below the hollow and the river bank, and
the new mill extensions are just to the east of this ridge. It's
well-nigh child's play. Nature's fixed it that way. Two cuttings, and a
race-way on the river. We flood this. Feed it full of lumber in the
summer with surplus from the cut and you've got that reserve for winter,
so you can keep every darn machine grinding its guts out. What's the use
talking? Big notion? Of course it is. We're out for big notions all the
time. That's the whole proposition. Well?"

Bat grinned at the heated disgust in the man's tone.

"Sounds like eatin' pie," he retorted aggravatingly. "The cost? The
labour? Time? You got those things?"

"It's right up at your office now." Skert's eyes widened in surprise at
such a question. "It's not my way to play around."

"No." Bat's eyes refused seriousness.

"Oh, psha! This is no sort of time chewing these details. It's figgered
to the last second, the last man, the last cent. I brought you to see
things. Well, you've seen things. And if you're satisfied we'll quit
right away. I've no spare play time."

There was no pretence of patience in Skert Lawton. He had looked for
appreciation and only found doubt. He moved off.

Bat had done the thing intended. He had no intention of hurting the man.
He understood the driving power of the mood he had stirred.

They moved off together.

"That's all right, Skert," he said kindly. "You've done one big thing.
An' it's the thing Bull and I want--"

"Then why in hell didn't you say it instead of talking--notions?"

For all the sharpness of his retort, Skert was mollified. Bat shook his
head and a shrewd light twinkled in his eyes.

"You're a pretty bright boy, Skert," he said. "But you're brightest when
you're riled."

They had gained the river bank where booms lined the shore, and scores
of men were rafting. They had left the water-logged hollow behind them,
and debouched on the busy world of the mill. Ahead lay the new
extensions where the saws were shrieking the song of their labours upon
the feed for the rumbling grinders. It was a township of buildings of
all size