I don't want my log-landings jammed until I can't
move, and I don't want Pennington's engineer to take a curve in such
a hurry that he'll whip my loaded logging-trucks off into a canon and
leave me hung up for lack of rolling-stock. I tell you, the man has
me under his thumb, and the only way I can escape is to slip out when
he isn't looking. He can do too many things to block the delivery of
my logs and then dub them acts of God, in order to avoid a judgment
against him on suit for non-performance of his hauling contract with
this company."
"Hum-m-m! Slimy old beggar, isn't he? I dare say he wouldn't hesitate
to buy the city council to block you, would he?"
"I know he'll lie and steal. I dare say he'd corrupt a public
official."
Buck Ogilvy rose and stretched himself. "I've got my work cut out for
me, haven't I?" he declared with a yawn. "However, it'll be a fight
worth while, and that at least will make it interesting. Well?"
Bryce pressed the buzzer on his desk, and a moment later Moira
entered. "Permit me, Moira, to present Mr. Ogilvy. Mr. Ogilvy, Miss
McTavish." The introduction having been acknowledged by both parties,
Bryce continued: "Mr. Ogilvy will have frequent need to interview me
at this office, Moira, but it is our joint desire that his visits
here shall remain a profound secret to everybody with the exception
of ourselves.
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