have to take the consequences."

"Meanin' what?" asked Wells.

"Meaning _me_," said Peter, "and after me, the law. Now go."

He stood aside and swung the door open with one hand, but he didn't take
his eyes from them.

They laughed in his face, but they obeyed him, filing out into the open,
and strolled away.

Peter had hoped to coax a fight out of Flynn, thinking that the Irish
blood in him couldn't resist his taunts and challenge. But Flynn had
been too clever for him. A defeat for Flynn meant loss of prestige, a
victory possible prosecution. Either way he had nothing to gain. Perhaps
he was just a coward like Jacobi or a beaten bully like Shad. Whatever
he was Flynn seemed very sure of himself and Peter, though apparently
master of the situation for the present, was conscious of a sense of
defeat. He knew as Flynn did that no matter what forces he called to his
aid, it was practically impossible to keep trespassers off a property of
this size, and that, after all, the success of his logging operations
remained with the men themselves.

But he breathed more freely now that he had made his decision with
regard to Shad Wells. He spent a large part of the morning going over
the mills, getting the men together and giving them a little talk, then
went up to the camp in search of Jesse Brown. The news of his encounter
with Shad and the "Reds" had preceded him and he saw that trouble was
brewing. Jesse Brown wagged his head in a deprecating way and tried to
side-step the entire situation. But Peter had reached a point where he
was tired of equivocation.

"I say, Jesse," he said at last, "you've let things get into a pretty
bad mess down here."

"I'm a peaceable man, Mr. Nichols," said Jesse. "I've tried to steer
this camp along easy-like, 'til this bit of woods is cleared up and here
you go stirrin' up a hornet's nest about our ears."

Peter frowned. "You know as well as I do that the men are doing just as
they please. At the rate they're going they wouldn't have this section
finished by Christmas. I'm paying them for work they don't do and you
know it. I put you in here to see that McGuire gets what he's paying
for. You haven't done it."

"I've done the best I could," muttered Jesse.

"That isn't the best I want. You knew Flynn and Jacobi were back in camp
yesterday. Why didn't you tell me so?"

"I can't do nothin'. They've got friends here."

"And haven't you got friends here too? I sent those men out of c