He could, however, change the scene, and skipping much, came to their start as general contractors at Gardner's Crossing. The Hulton Company, which was not so large then, gave them work, but they were hampered by want of capital, and had to meet the competition of richer and sometimes unscrupulous antagonists. Still they made progress; staking all they had on the chance of carrying out risky work that others would not touch, sometimes testing the patience of creditors, and now and then outwitting a rival by an ingenious ruse. Lawrence lived in the single-room office, cooking for himself on an oil-stove, while Foster camped with their men where they were at work.
Then they built the sawmill with the help of Lawrence's check from home, and soon afterwards met with their worst reverse. They had engaged to supply the Hulton Company with lumber of a certain kind for some special work, and then found that few of the trees they required grew near the river. This meant that a skidway must be made over a very rough hill and a gasolene winding engine bought or hired to haul the logs out of the next valley. There was, however, another fir easily accessible that might suit the purpose, but not quite as well, and Foster related how he and his partner sat up late one night, calculating costs and wondering whether they should pay Hulton a fine to break the bargain. He added naively that they were some time arguing if they should substitute the inferior wood.
"Whose opinion was it that you should supply the exact material you had promised?" Featherstone asked.
"Well," said Foster, "Lawrence said so first, but I think we both meant to let them have the best."
Featherstone's glance at his wife indicated relief, but something in Alice's face showed that she had known what Foster's reply would be. She had listened with keen interest, and he stopped, half amused and half embarrassed. Perhaps he had talked too much, and while he meant to do Lawrence justice, he did not want to play the part of the indomitable pioneer for the girl's benefit. Moreover, he knew she would detect, and despise him for, any attempt to do so, and as he valued her good opinion, it was not modesty alone that led him to make Lawrence the hero of the piece.
"So you stuck to your bargain!" Featherstone remarked. "Tell us how you carried it out."
Foster forgot himself and the others as he continued, for he had a vivid memory of the struggle. He took charge of the work in the woods, while Lawrence tactfully pressed for payment of outstanding accounts, put off creditors, and somehow provided money for wages. As extra gangs had to be hired, Foster owned that he did not know how the thing was done. He cut a grade for the skidway up the hill, slashing tangled bush and blasting rocks, worked in the snow by moonlight long after his men stopped, and afterwards learned that Lawrence often went without a meal when pay-day got near. But they hauled out the logs and the lumber was delivered. When he stopped, Featherstone looked up with some color in his face.
"Thank you," he said. "It is a moving tale. The money we sent you was well spent. I could have expected nothing better of my son. But I suppose you found it paid to keep your promise."
"In this case, it did," Foster answered with a smile. "Hulton's gave us the first chance of any work they did not care to do themselves; you see, we had put in a few wood-working machines. In fact, after a time, Hulton told Lawrence to walk through the factory now and then and send in anything the heads of departments required. But I've talked long enough and fear you're bored."
"No," said Featherstone simply, "you have given us great pleasure and made us realize the bracing life my son is leading. You could have done us no favor that would equal this."