The Rapids

  VI.--CONCERNING IRON, WOOD AND A GIRL

  A year passed and the folk of St. Marys had not yet accustomedthemselves to drawing water from a tap and turning on the light with aswitch ere Clark began a frontal attack on the resources of the countryto the north. It was typical of his methods that he invariably usednew agencies by which to approach affairs which, in the main, differedfrom those already existing. Thus he called on many and widelyseparated individuals, who, answering his imperious summons, fellstraightway under the spell of his remarkable personality, and foundthemselves shortly in positions of increasing responsibility. Theybecame the heads of various activities, but, in a way, the secondaryheads, for Clark retained all kingship for himself. So it came that asmonths passed he was surrounded by a constantly increasing band ofactive and loyal retainers.

  Such was John Baudette, for whom Clark had sent to talk pulp wood, but,it is recorded, that Baudette's manner and bearing changed not at allwhen Clark stared at him across the big flat topped desk and remarkedevenly that he wanted pulp wood and was assured that there was an amplesupply within fifty miles.

  Baudette's hard blue eyes met the stare placidly. "Yes, there is pulpwood north of here."

  "I know it, because I've had some," said Clark, "but I want fiftythousand cords next May and seventy-five thousand the year after."

  Baudette felt in a way more at home, but he had never contemplatedseventy-five thousand cords of wood. "Am I to go and take it?"

  Clark laughed, then settled back with the shadow of a smile on hislips, and bent on the woodsman that swift inspection which discomfortedso many. It embarrassed Baudette not at all. He was rather small andof slight build, but he was constructed in the manner of a bundle ofsteel wire that enfolds a heart of inflexible determination. On casualinspection he did not appear to be a strong man, but his body was amass of tireless sinew. His eyes were of that cold, hard blue which isthe color of fortitude, his face clean shaven and rather thin; his jawslightly underhung, his lips narrow and tightly compressed. Indemeanor he was quiet and almost shy, but it was the quietness of onewho has spent his days in the open, and the shyness of a life which hasdealt with simple things in a simple but efficient way. The longerClark looked at him the more he liked this new discovery. Presently hebegan to talk.

  "I want a man to take charge of my forest department, and one who hasgot his experience at the expense of some one else. We need pulp woodin larger quantities than have been required in this country before.Next year we begin to grind wood that you will cut this winter."

  The little man neither moved nor took his eyes from Clark's face, andthe latter, with the faintest twitch of his lip, went on.

  "I'm satisfied that this wood exists in ample quantities and the restis up to you. You can have any reasonable salary you ask for."

  "Where are the timber limits?" Baudette said quietly. He was,apparently, uninterested in the matter of salary.

  Clark flattened out a big map of the district that obliterated thepiles of letters and telegrams. Baudette's eyes brightened. He lovedmaps, but never before had he seen one so minute and comprehensive.

  "That's compiled from all available surveys and records. It took threemonths to make it. I was getting ready for you."

  Baudette nodded. He was interested in how the thing was compiled, andhis eyes traced the birth and flow of rivers and the great sweep ofwell remembered lakes. Presently Clark's voice came in again.

  "Where's the best pulp wood? We've been getting it from everywhere."

  A lean brown forefinger slid slowly over the edge of the map. Clarknoted its delicacy and strength. It halted a moment at St. Marys,then, as though Baudette counted the miles, traversed the shore ofSuperior and turned into a great bay to the westward. At the belly ofthe bay the finger struck inland following a wide river, and halted ina triangle of land where the river forked. Baudette looked up andnodded.

  "Ah!" said Clark thoughtfully. "How much good wood is there?"

  The forefinger commenced an irregular course during which it struckinto salients that followed up lesser and tributary streams. It hadenclosed perhaps five hundred square miles of Canadian territory whenit reached its starting point.

  "Four years' wood." Baudette's voice was still impressive.

  The other man smiled as though in subdued mirth, and with a red penciloutlined the area. Following this his eyes rested contemplatively onthe lumberman who sat still focussed on the map.

  "Come back in two weeks," he said suddenly. "Good morning."

  Baudette glanced at him, and went out so quietly that there was not thesound of a footstep. Clark's manner of speech and person had set himthinking as never before. Ten thousand cords of wood a year was theusual order of things, but of fifty thousand cords he had never dreamed.

  He had a new set of sensations which filled him with a novel confidencein his own powers. He was reacting, like all the others, to theintimate touch of a communicative confidence. He passed thoughtfullythrough the general office, noting as he closed the door that on abench near Clark's door sat Fisette, a French halfbreed whom he knew.He remarked also that Fisette's pockets were bulging, it seemed, withrocks.

  A moment later Fisette was summoned. He went in, treading lightly onthe balls of his feet, and leaning forward as though under a load on aportage. Clark's office always frightened him a little. The rumble ofthe adjoining power house, the great bulk of the buildings justoutside, the masses of documents,--all of this spoke of an externalpower that puzzled and, in a way, worried him. He halted suddenly infront of the desk.

  "Well?" said Clark, without offering him a seat, for Fisette was moreat ease when he stood.

  The half breed felt in his pockets. The other unrolled a duplicate ofthe map he had shown Baudette and held out his hand, in which Fisetteplaced some pieces of rock.

  At the weight and chill of them, Clark experienced a peculiar thrill,then, under a magnifying glass he examined each with extreme care,turning them so that the light fell fair on edge and fracture. Oneafter another he scrutinized, while the breed stood motionless.

  "Where do they come from?" he said shortly.

  The breed made a little noise in his throat, and his dark eyes restedluminously on the keen face. After a little he gathered the samplesand disposed them on the map, laying each in that corner of thewilderness from which it had been broken. He did this with thedeliberation of one who knew beyond all question. He had broughtmonths of hardship and exposure in his pocket. By swamp and hill,valley and lake and rapid he had journeyed alone in search of the gray,heavy, shiny rock of which Clark had, months before, given him afragment, with curt orders to seek the like. The small, angular pieceswere all arranged, and his chief stared at them with profoundgeological interest. Fisette did not move. He had looked forward tothis moment.

  "They're no good," came the level voice, after a pause, "but you're inthe right country. Go back for another two months. You'll get it yet.It should be near this," he picked up a sample. "Take what men youwant, or no, don't take any. I want you to do this yourself, and don'ttalk. Good morning."

  Fisette nodded dumbly. The moment had come and gone and he felt alittle paralyzed.

  "Here, have a cigar."

  He took one, such a cigar as he had never seen, large, dark and fatwith a golden band around its plump middle. He glanced at Clark, whoapparently had forgotten him, and went silently out. On the doorstephe paused, slid off the golden band and put it in his pocketbook,cupped a lighted match between his polished palms, took one longluxurious breath and started thoughtfully to town with worship anddetermination in his breast.

  Clark, from the office window, was looking down at his broad back in amoment of abstraction. At Fisette's departure he had suddenly plungedinto one of those moods so peculiar to his temperament. Beside thehalfbreed he seemed to perceive Stoughton, and with Baudette hediscerned the figure of Riggs, and so on till there were marshalledbefore him the whole battalion of those
who were caught up in theonward march. He realized, without any hesitation, that shouldBaudette fail in his work, the magnificent bulk of the great pulp millwould be but a futile shell. And should the prospecting pick of thehalf-breed not uncover that which he sought, the entire enterprisewould lack its basic security. But it was characteristic of the manthat this vision brought with it no depression, but seemed rather topoint to ultimate success in the very blending of diverse elements thatstrove together towards the same end.

  Two weeks later, Baudette returned and looked questioningly at hischief. In very few words he explained that the fortnight had beenspent in the woods and that what he had said was correct.

  Clark listened silently. Here was a man to his liking. When thelumberman finished he again unrolled the big map, but this time insteadof the wavering red pencil line, there was the bold demarcation of amuch greater area, which Belding's draughtsman had plotted inprofessional style. In the middle of it was the territory Baudette hadpreviously indicated.

  "I thought we'd better be safe, and got this--from the Government. Goto the chief accountant in the outside office. Give him an estimate ofwhat money you need for the next six months--and get to work--Goodmorning."

  Baudette merely nodded and disappeared. There was too much in his mindto admit of expressing it, but, even had he felt conversational, therewas a finality about his dismissal that left no opening. He went awaycharged with a grim determination. Here was the chance he had beenwaiting for all his life.

  And Clark had, by this time, labelled Baudette as a valuable anddependable man. He forthwith forgot all about him, and went back tothe memory of Baudette's forefinger as it pushed its way up to theMagwa River. It flashed upon him that, in the course of a vehementlyactive life, he had built practically all things save one. At that hefell into a reverie which ended with the pressing of a button thatflashed a small red light on Belding's desk. A moment later he glancedkeenly at his chief engineer.

  "Belding, you have done railway work. What does a standard gauge roadcost in this country?"

  "Where is the road to be built?" Belding displayed no surprise. Thetime for that had long passed, and, he silently concluded, thepresidency of a railroad would suit Clark admirably.

  "Up the Magwa River."

  "And the maximum grades?"

  "Suitable for freight haulage to this point. We run with the water,"added Clark with one of his rare smiles, "you ought to know that."

  "About thirty thousand a mile," answered Belding steadily, the troublebeing that when his chief's imagination took strong hold of him he wasapt to diverge from the point.

  "Then you will send out survey parties and get detailed estimates whenthe surveys are in."

  "How far is the road to run? The head waters of the Magwa are onehundred and fifty miles from its mouth."

  Clark's lips tightened a little. "As far as the pulp wood is good. Idon't care how far that is--and, Belding--"

  "Yes, sir."

  "I have decided to double the size of the mill. Let me have plans andestimates for that too."

  Belding went on, his head swimming, and walked slowly toward the headgates through which Lake Superior flowed obediently to do Clark's will.It seemed now that his chief had reached the point where the god in themachine must make some grievous error. He was insatiable. Presentlytwo figures approached. One was Judge Worden, the other a girl. Theformer waved his stick.

  "We're going to see Mr. Clark. Elsie, this is Mr. Belding."

  The girl smiled and put out a slim hand. "I've heard all aboutyou--did you make all this?" Her brown eyes roved, taking in the greatsweep of rising structures.

  "In a way, yes," he laughed, "that is I did what I was told."

  "Mr. Belding is chief engineer," put in the judge assuringly.

  She nodded. "You told me. I--I think it's rather wonderful. Ifanything had to happen to the rapids, this is just right."

  Belding made no immediate answer. He was studying the girl's face, hersupple figure, and the intelligence that marked every expression. Itstruck him that she was meant to be some man's comrade.

  "I'm glad you like it," he said a little awkwardly, "there's lots moreto come."

  The judge touched Elsie's arm. "That's what I want to hear about atthe block house, and I hope you'll have supper with us next Sunday, Mr.Belding. I hear you are too busy for a weekday diversion."

  Elsie smiled approval and they turned down the long embankment.

  Belding looked after them with a shade of resentment. She was, he haddecided, just like her photograph. In the distance he had seen Clarkwalking quickly towards his visitors. They met a hundred yards awayand Clark's eyes began to twinkle.

  "How do you do. I seem to know you quite well already."

  Elsie flushed. She had pictured Clark in her romantic brain, but thistrim figure resembled none of her expectations.

  "I'm very sorry," he went on quickly, "that urgent business will keepme in the office all afternoon. I've just a few minutes."

  "Then we'll be off at once," announced the judge.

  "Not at all, if there's anything here to interest you, the place isyours."

  Elsie glanced at him curiously. She was conscious both ofdisappointment and of a certain invitational thrill. His assurance wasnot just what she had looked for, but yet it stimulated her thought.He was very different from every one else. Decision marked him and aflash that was breathless seemed to reach her. Imagination lay in hisquick change of expression and in the depths of the gray eyes. Thiswas the man who dreamed great dreams.

  "The next time you are up this way I hope you and your friends willcome to the block house." He was looking at her with evident interest."You may not like it, but, I think you will,--it makes a background forthis"; he pointed to the works, "and I find it restful. I live quitealone except for a Japanese cook, and," he added with a laugh, "he'spart of the background."

  Elsie accepted and, for an instant, caught Clark's full glance. In afraction of time there passed between them a swift and subconsciousexchange of understanding that subsided almost ere it was born. Thenhe took off his hat and hastened towards his office.

  For a little while she did not speak, for she was filled with theperception that between herself and this stranger lay something theyheld in common. Could it be imagination?

  "What do you think of Mr. Belding?" asked the judge reflectively as hestepped round a shattered boulder.

  Elsie started. "Why do you ask?"

  The judge's brows went up. "Why shouldn't I?"

  The girl pulled herself together with an effort. "I was thinking ofsomething else when you spoke,--he seems very nice indeed."

  "He has a good salary, a good position and a good future," hazarded thejudge. "I'm glad you like him."

  Later that evening, Belding turned homeward, his work finished, and,walking close to the shore, looked across the black river to the blazeof light at the works. On one side and low down he made out the glowfrom the block-house windows. He could imagine Clark at the piano.

  But his chief had deserted the piano and given himself up to a rarehour of retrospect. He was under no misapprehension with regard to St.Marys. The town was growing in jerky spurts, as the old inhabitantstook on new courage, or new blood came in from outside. Filmer, whowith the exception of Bowers and Belding, was closer to Clark than anyof the rest, enlarged his store, and new shops began to appear nearerthe rapids. Manson's premises were populated with an assortment fromthe small army of laborers at the works, and a new hotel was underconstruction. But, in the main, it was only by stress of businessdemands that any expansion was made. The strangers, who constantlyappeared on the streets, ceased to be a cause of curiosity, and thefolk of St. Marys left it to them to start new enterprises.

  As to Clark, himself, he began to be almost invisible to thetownspeople. There was nothing, after all, to bring him to town.Others came to him. And ever the call of the rapids grew louder andmore domi
nant in his active brain. Others slept when he was awake, andhis imagination, caught up in a tremendous belief in the future of thecountry, explored the horizon for new avenues and enterprises, whilethe conclusions of his prophetic mind filled him with unfailingconfidence. He had now achieved the ability to arrive intuitively atresults reached by others after long and arduous labor. This facultywas one of his outstanding gifts, no less than his mesmeric andcommunicative influence.