" His old head sank
low on his breast. "Folks call them Cardigan's Redwoods now," he
murmured. "Cardigan's Redwoods--and Pennington would cut them! Oh,
Bryce, the man hasn't a soul!"
"But I fail to see what the loss of Cardigan's Redwoods has to do
with the impending ruin of the Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company," his
son reminded him. "We have all the timber we want."
"My ten-year contract has but one more year to run, and recently I
tried to get Pennington to renew it. He was very nice and sociable,
but--he named me a freight-rate, for a renewal of the contract for
five years, of three dollars per thousand feet. That rate is
prohibitive and puts us out of business."
"Not necessarily," Bryce returned evenly. "How about the State
railroad commission? Hasn't it got something to say about rates?"
"Yes--on common carriers. But Pennington's load is a private logging-
road; my contract will expire next year, and it is not incumbent upon
Pennington to renew it. And one can't operate a sawmill without logs,
you know."
"Then," said Bryce calmly, "we'll shut the mill down when the log-
hauling contract expires, hold our timber as an investment, and live
the simple life until we can sell it or a transcontinental road
builds into Humboldt County and enables us to start up the mill
again.
Pages:
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96