“Now I would like to know your position,” went on Thorpe. “I am not here to make trouble, but as an associate of Mr. Radway, I have a right to understand the case. Of course I have his side of the story,” he suggested, as though convinced that a detailing of the other side might change his views.
Daly considered carefully, fixing his flint-blue eyes unswervingly on Thorpe's face. Evidently his scrutiny advised him that the young man was a force to be reckoned with.
“It's like this,” said he abruptly, “we contracted last fall with this man Radway to put in five million feet of our timber, delivered to the main drive at the mouth of the Cass Branch. In this he was to act independently except as to the matter of provisions. Those he drew from our van, and was debited with the amount of the same. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly,” replied Thorpe.
“In return we were to pay him, merchantable scale, four dollars a thousand. If, however, he failed to put in the whole job, the contract was void.”
“That's how I understand it,” commented Thorpe. “Well?”
“Well, he didn't get in the five million. There's a million and a half hung up in the woods.”
“But you have in your hands three million and a half, which under the present arrangement you get free of any charge whatever.”
“And we ought to get it,” cried Daly. “Great guns! Here we intend to saw this summer and quit. We want to get in every stick of timber we own so as to be able to clear out of here for good and all at the close of the season; and now this condigned jobber ties us up for a million and a half.”
“It is exceedingly annoying,” conceded Thorpe, “and it is a good deal of Radway's fault, I am willing to admit, but it's your fault too.”