n, too. But it ain't the same.
No," he shook his grizzled head, "you can't never make nuthin' of me but
a lumber-boss. You'll never be a thing but a college-bred fighter all
your life. There's a third share in this thing for both of us. Well,
that's goin' to be one a' mighty pile. I was wonderin'. Shall you quit?
Shall you cut right out with the boodle? What'll you do?"

Bull sat up and laughed. And his answer came on the instant.

"Why, marry," he said.

Bat nodded.

"That's queer," he said. "I guessed you'd answer that way."

"Why?"

Bat folded his arms across his broad chest.

"You're young," he replied.

Bull laughed again.

"Better say it," he cried. "An' darn foolish."

"No, I hadn't that in mind. No, Bull. If I had your years I guess I'd
feel that way, too. I wonder--"

"You're guessing to know who I'd marry, eh?" Bull's pipe was knocked out
into the cuspidore. Then he sat up again and his eyes were full of
reckless delight. "Here," he cried, "I guess it's mostly school-kids who
shout the things they reckon to do--or a fool man. It doesn't matter.
Maybe I'm both. Anyway, I'm just crazy for--for--"

"Red hair, an'--an' a pair of mighty pretty eyes?"

"Sure."

Bat nodded. A deep satisfaction stirred him.

"I reckoned that way, ever since--Say, I'm glad."

But Bull's mood had sobered.

"She's in the enemy camp though," he demurred.

"It'll hand you another scrap--haulin' her out."

"Yes."

Bat rose from his chair and stretched his trunk-like body.

"Well," he said, "it's me for the blankets." Then he emitted a
deep-throated chuckle. "You get at it, boy," he went on. "An' if you're
needin' any help I can pass, why, count on it. If you mean marryin' I'd
sooner see you hook up team with that red-haired gal than anything in
the world I ever set two eyes on. Guess I'll hand you my stuff in the
morning if the storm quits."

* * * * *

The dynamos were revolving at terrific speed. There were some eighteen
in all, and their dull roar was racking upon ears unused. Bat was
regarding them without enthusiasm. All he knew was the thing they
represented. Skert Lawton had told him. They represented the harnessing
of five hundred thousand horse power of the Beaver River water. The
engineer had assured him, in his unsmiling fashion, that he had secured
enough power to supply the whole Province of Quebec with electricity.
All of which, in Bat's estimation, seemed to be an