The Rules of the Game

thing that claimed his attention most strongly was the dull green band of the forest, thick and impenetrable to the south, fringing into ragged tamaracks on the east

amways leading out into the lumber yard where was piled the white pine held over from the season before. As Bob looked, a great, black horse appeared on one of these aerial tramways, silhouetted against the sky. The beast moved accurately, his head held low against his chest, his feet lifted and planted with care. Behind him rumbled a whole train of little cars each laden with planks. On the foremost sat a man, his shoulders bowed, driving the horse. The

, their cordage like spider webs, in a succession of regular spaces until they were lost behind the mill. From the exhaust of the mill's engine a jet of white steam shot up

the ground in the exposed places. Bob breathed deep of the clear air, keenly conscious of the freshness of it after the murky city. A sweet and delicate odour was abroad, an odour elusive yet pungent, an aroma of the open. The young man sniffed it eagerly,

never knew anything like it!

t's got to be carried down to the docks, and tallied there, and loaded in those vessels. The mill isn't much--too old-fashioned. We saw with 'circulars' instead

bling structure with a wide porch over which was suspended a large bell; a neatly painted smaller building labelled "Office"; a trim house surrounded by what would later be a garden; and a square-fronted store.

ce. After an interval they mounted

emphasizing some point on a soiled memorandum by the indication of a stubby forefinger. He was a short, active, blue-eyed man, very tanned. Bob looked at him with interest, for there was something about him the young man did not recognize,

r. Fox?" he gre

ed Fox, "how are thing

replied the man, "a

ng going

en haven't showed up this year--some sort of pull-out to Oregon a

p," replied Fox easily. "I'll

was conscious of a keen, gimlet scrutiny from the blue eyes, a scrutiny instantaneous, but which seemed to penetrate hi

imself to he

e has charge of all the sawing, and is a

ate in the picket rail

e print maps decorated the walls. Coarse rope matting edged with tin strips protected the floor. A single step down through a door led into a pain

versation with a pale, hatchet-faced man of thirty-five, whom he ad

Orde. He's been in our home office awhile, but I brought him up to help you out. He can get busy

These 'jumpers' ... and that confounded mixed stuff from _seventeen_ ..." he trailed off, his eye glazing in the abstract

o turn away he was busy at the papers, his pencil, beautifully pointed, running like lightning down the long columns, pausing at certain p

w, cool voice addressed t

bub!" it

ted and he exte

he cried. "Yo

gly. His little blue eyes twinkled, and fine wrinkles at their corners helped the twinkles. His long figure was so heavily clothed as to be concealed from any surmise, except that it was gaunt and wiry. Hands gnarled, twisted, veined, brown, seemed less like flesh than like some skilful Japanese carvin

the woods!" Fox was excl

ite water," repl

s goin

ouble with the men. They're a mixed lot. Then there's old Meadows. He's assertin' his heaven-

g," of "winging out," of "white water." It made no sense, and yet somehow it thrilled him, as at times the mer

move toward the inner office. Suddenly Fox

worked for his father. This is Jim Tally, and he's one of the best rivermen, the best woo

Mr. Orde," said T