The Rules of the Game

  XXXIX

  Bob took his father with him back to headquarters. They rode in near theclose of day; and, as usual, from the stovepipe of the roofless kitchena brave pillar of white smoke rose high in the shadows of the firs. Amycame forth at Bob's shout, starched and fresh, her cheeks glowing withtheir steady colour, her intelligent eyes alight with interest under thestraight, serene brows. At sight of Orde, the vivacity of her mannerquieted somewhat, but Bob could see that she was excited aboutsomething. He presented his father, who dismounted and greeted her witha hearty shake of the hand.

  "We've heard of you, Miss Thorne," said he simply, but it was evident hewas pleased with the frankness of her manner, the clear steadiness ofher eye, the fresh daintiness of her appearance, and the respect of hergreeting. On the other hand, she looked back with equal pleasure on thetanned, sturdy old man with the white hair and moustache, the cleareyes, and the innumerable lines of quaint good-humour about them. Afterthey had thus covertly surveyed each other for a moment, the aforesaidlines about Orde's eyes deepened, his eyes twinkled with mischief, andhe thrust forth his hand for the second time. "Shake again!" he offered.Amy gurgled forth a little chuckle of good feeling and understanding,and laid her fingers in his huge palm.

  After this they turned and walked slowly to the hitch rails where themen tied their horses.

  "Where's the Supervisor?" Bob asked of Amy.

  "In the office," she replied; and then burst out excitedly: "I've thegreatest news!"

  "So have I," returned Bob, promptly. "Best kind."

  "Oh, what is it?" she cried, forgetting all about her own. "Is it Mr.Welton?"

  "It'll take some time to tell mine," said Bob, "and we must hunt up Mr.Thorne. Yours first."

  "Pollock is free!"

  "Pollock free!" echoed Bob. "How is that? I thought his trial was notuntil next week!"

  "The prosecuting attorney quashed the indictment--or whatever it is theydo. Anyhow, he let George go for lack of evidence to convict."

  "I guess he was relying on evidence promised by Oldham, which he nevergot," Bob surmised.

  "And never will," Orde cautioned them. "You two young people must becareful never to know anything of this."

  Bob opened his mouth to say something; was suddenly struck by a thought,and closed it again.

  "Why do you say that?" he asked at last. "Why do you think Miss Thornemust know of this?"

  But Orde only smiled amusedly beneath his white moustache.

  They found Ashley Thorne, and acquainted him with the whole situation.He listened thoughtfully.

  "The matter is over our heads, of course; but we must do our best. Ofcourse, by all rights the man ought to be indicted; but there can be noquestion that there is a common sense that takes the substance ofvictory and lets the shadow go."

  Orde stayed to supper and over night. In the course of the eveningCalifornia John drifted in, and Ware, and Jack Pollock, and such otherof the rangers as happened to be in from the Forest. Orde was at hisbest; and ended, to Bob's vast pride, in getting himself well liked bythese conservative and quietly critical men of the mountains.

  The next morning Bob and his father saddled their horses and startedearly for the mill, Bob having been granted a short leave of absence.For some distance they rode in silence.

  "Father," said Bob, "why did you stop me from contradicting Baker theother day when he jumped to the conclusion that I was going to quit theService?"

  "I think you are."

  "But--"

  "Only if you want to, Bob. I don't want to force you in any way; butboth Welton and I are getting old, and we need younger blood. We'drather have you." Bob shook his head. "I know what you mean, and Irealize how you feel about the whole matter. Perhaps you are right. Ihave nothing to say against conservation and forestry methodstheoretically. They are absolutely correct. I agree that the forestsshould be cut for future growths, and left so that fire cannot getthrough them; but it is a grave question in my mind whether, as yet, itcan be done."

  "But it is being done!" cried Bob. "There is no difficulty in doing it."

  "That's for you to prove, if you want to," said Orde. "If you care toresign from the Service, we will for two years give you full swing withour timber, to cut and log according to your ideas--or rather the ideasof those over you. In that time you can prove your point, or fail.Personally," he repeated, "I have grave doubts as to whether it can bedone at present; it will be in the future of course."

  "Why, what do you mean?" asked Bob. "It is being done every day! There'snothing complicated about it. It's just a question of cutting and pilingthe tops, and--"

  "I know the methods advocated," broke in Orde. "But it is not being doneexcept on Government holdings where conditions as to taxation, situationand a hundred other things are not like those of private holdings; or onprivate holdings on an experimental scale, or in conjunction with oldermethods. The case has not been proved on a large private tract. Now isyour chance so to prove it."

  Bob's face was grave.

  "That means a pretty complete about-face for me, sir," said he. "Ifought this all out with myself some years back. I feel that I havefitted myself into the one thing that is worth while for me."

  "I know," said Orde. "Don't hurry. Think it over. Take advice. I have anotion you'll find this--if its handled right, and works out right--willcome to much the same thing."

  He rode along in silence for some moments.

  "I want to be fair," he resumed at last, "and do not desire to get youin this on mistaken premises. This will not be a case of experiment, ofplaything, but of business. However desirable a commercial theory maybe, if it's commercial, _it must pay_! It's not enough if you don't losemoney; or even if you succeed in coming out a little ahead. You mustmake it pay on a commercial basis, or else it's as worthless in thebusiness world as so much moonshine. That is not sordid; it is simplycommon sense. We all agree that it would be better to cut our forestsfor the future; but _can it be done under present conditions?_"

  "There is no question of that," said Bob confidently.

  "There is quite a question of it among some of us old fogies, Bobby,"stated Orde good-humouredly. "I suppose we're stupid and behind thetimes; but we've been brought up in a hard school. We are beyond the agewhen we originate much, perhaps; but we're willing to be shown."

  He held up his hand, checking over his fingers as he talked.

  "Here's the whole proposition," said he. "You can consider it. Weltonand I will turn over the whole works to you, lock, stock and barrel, fortwo years. You know the practical side of the business as well as youever will, and you've got a good head on you. At the end of that time,turn in your balance sheet. We'll see how you come out, and how much itcosts a thousand feet to do these things outside the schoolroom."

  "If I took it up, I couldn't make it pay quite as well as by presentmethods," Bob warned.

  "Of course not. Any reasonable man would expect to spend something byway of insurance for the future. But the point is, the operations mustpay. Think it over!"

  They emerged into the mill clearing. Welton rolled out to greet them,his honest red face aglow with pleasure over greeting again his oldfriend. They pounded each other on the back, and uttered much facetiousand affectionate abuse. Bob left them cursing each other heartily, broadgrins illuminating their weatherbeaten faces.