“Three hundred millions are not to be sneezed at,” replied Thorpe.
“Certainly not,” agreed Morrison, suavely, gaining confidence from the sound of his own voice. “Not in this country. But you must remember that a man goes into the northern peninsula only because he can get something better there than here. When the firm of Morrison & Daly establishes itself now, it must be for the last time. We want enough timber to do us for the rest of the time we are in business.”
“In that case, you will have to hunt up another locality,” replied Thorpe calmly.
Morrison's eyes flashed. But he retained his appearance of geniality, and appealed to Wallace Carpenter.
“Then you will retain the advantage of our dams and improvements,” said he. “Is that fair?”
“No, not on the face of it,” admitted Thorpe. “But you did your work in a navigable stream for private purposes, without the consent of the Board of Control. Your presence on the river is illegal. You should have taken out a charter as an Improvement Company. Then as long as you 'tended to business and kept the concern in repair, we'd have paid you a toll per thousand feet. As soon as you let it slide, however, the works would revert to the State. I won't hinder your doing that yet; although I might. Take out your charter and fix your rate of toll.”
“In other words, you force us to stay there and run a little two-by-four Improvement Company for your benefit, or else lose the value of our improvements?”
“Suit yourself,” answered Thorpe carelessly. “You can always log your present holdings.”
“Very well,” cried Morrison, so suddenly in a passion that Wallace started back. “It's war! And let me tell you this, young man; you're a new concern and we're an old one. We'll crush you like THAT!” He crisped an envelope vindictively, and threw it in the waste-basket.
“Crush ahead,” replied Thorpe with great good humor. “Good-day, Mr. Morrison,” and the two went out.