“Yes?” she asked.
“You know what my ranch in Saskatoon is like, don’t you, Jeannie? I mean, you know what the land is like.”
“I know you have grain and some live stock....”
“And that a lot of my land isn’t cleared of forests as yet?”
She nodded.
Ralph drew his pipe from his coat pocket and lit it. “About once a year I get a letter from the government asking me what I plan to do with my uncut timber. I never paid much attention to it before. I liked having the trees there. It was good for the soil. But I saw something in Paris which has changed my mind completely.”
Jean looked at him in surprise. “What could happen in Paris that could affect your forests?” she asked.
Ralph laughed. “This, my dear, is a good lesson in the size of the world today. I live on an isolated Canadian ranch. But I have the power, out there, to help or hinder businesses all over the world. That timber I have should be cut and shipped to wood pulp manufacturers. But let’s start at the beginning.”
Jean giggled. “That would help,” she admitted.
“You remember, I wrote you about attending the newspaper convention in Paris last fall?”