"He's Mr. Marsh's foreman."
Emerson spoke out bluntly: "See here. I don't like this. These people have caused me a lot of trouble already, and I don't want my men hanging around here."
"Oh, that's all right," said Larsen, carelessly. "Him and me used to fish together." And as if this were a sufficient explanation, he turned back to his conversation, leaving Emerson to proceed on his way, vaguely displeased at the episode, yet reflecting that heretofore he had never had occasion to doubt Larsen's loyalty.
He found Cherry at home, and, flinging himself into one of her easy-chairs, relieved his mind of the day's occurrences.
"Marsh is building those traps purely out of spite," she declared, indignantly, when he had finished. "He doesn't need any more fish—he has plenty of traps farther up the river."
"To be sure! It looks as if we might have to depend upon the gill-netters."
"We will know before long. If the fish strike in where George expects,
Marsh will be out a pretty penny."
"And if they don't strike in where George expects, we will be out all the expense of building that trap."
"Exactly! It's a fascinating business, isn't it? It's a business in which the unexpected is forever happening. But the stakes are high and—I know you will succeed."
Boyd smiled at her comforting assurance, her belief in him was always stimulating.