aid down. Every card of it was offered for their closest scrutiny,
even to the baring of the last reservation which his intimate knowledge
of the merciless climate of Labrador might have inspired.

The appeal of this method had been instant to Sir Frank Leader. And the
appeal had been as much the man himself as the thing he offered. The
result of it all was Bull's early return home with the man's whole
organisation fathering his enterprise, and with a guarantee of his
incomparable fleet of freighters being flung into the pool. Leader had
swept up the whole proposition into his widely embracing arms, and taken
it to himself. Subject to Ray Birchall's ultimate report, after personal
inspection on the spot of the properties involved, the flotation was to
be launched for some seventy million dollars, and thus the consummation
of Sachigo's original inspiration would be achieved.

Bat had listened to the story almost without comment. He had missed
nothing of it. Neither had he failed to observe the man telling it. The
story itself was all so tremendous, so far removed from the work that
pre-occupied him that he had little desire to probe deeper into it. But
the success of it all stirred him. Oh, yes. It had stirred him deeply,
and his mind had immediately flown to that other who had laboured for
just this achievement and had staggered under the burden of it all.

Bull removed his pipe and gazed across the stove.

"And now for your news, Bat," he said, like a man anticipating a
pleasant continuation of his own good news.

Bat shook his head decidedly.

"No," he said, in his brusque fashion. "Not to-night, boy. Guess I ain't
got a thing to tell to match your stuff. We just carried on, and we've
worked big. We're in good shape for the darn scrap with the Skandinavia
you told me about. Guess I'll hand you my stuff to-morrow, when I'm
goin' to show you things. This night's your night--sure."

His twinkling eyes were full of kindly regard, for all the brusqueness
of his denial. And Bull smiled back his content.

"Well, it's your 'hand' Bat," he said easily. "You'll play it your way."

His eyes turned to the comforting stove again, as the howl of the storm
outside shook the framing of the house.

Presently the other raised a pair of smiling eyes.

"You know, boy," the lumberman said, ejecting a worn-out chew of
tobacco, "all this means one mighty big thing your way. You see, you got
life before you. Maybe I've years to ru