“Old Enchanted is all right,” said Ide. “There’s a thousand acres of black growth there, every tree standin’ with its arm about its brother. You mustn’t let ’em devil you, Mr. Barrett!” he called.
Mr. Barrett, his lowering gaze on Wade, agreed mentally.
“Well, this is certainly a convention of the timber interests!” cried the brisk little autocrat of Castonia. He pointed up the trail, where the Honorable Pulaski D. Britt was advancing alone.
Wade withdrew unobstrusively, and stood beside Nina Ide. Perhaps he hoped that her talk might bring some word of Elva Barrett.
But at last even Rodburd Ide’s cheery consciousness became impressed by the fact that neither Britt nor Barrett seemed to relish any chat on timber topics. And he broke upon a constrained silence to suggest to Wade that they proceed—taking it for granted that now his partner’s way lay to the north, along with his own.
“There’s—there’s—” Wade stammered, and now for the first time Ide and his daughter marked the girl of the Skeet settlement leaning moodily against the side of the Durfy hovel, the unkempt Abe hovering apprehensively in the background.
“Ah ha!” piped Ide. “There are the remnants, eh? We met the rest of the colony hiperin’ out of the woods. They’ve gone to Little Lobster, girl, and the old woman is worryin’ about you.”
Wade stared straight at Barrett. The timber baron understood the challenge of his eyes. He was commanded to declare his intentions. In spite of himself, he scowled. It was a scowl of recalcitrancy. And the young man, angered by the presence of Britt and the evident appearance of treachery, shot his bolt.
“There is a piece of good-fortune for this poor girl, Mr. Ide. Mr. Barrett proposes to educate her, and he’s going to take her with him out of the woods.”