“No,” said Orde; “we hadn't thought of doing more than the driving and distributing. You'll have to deliver the logs in the river. Maybe another year, after we get better organised, we'll be able to break rollways—at a price per thousand—but until we get a-going we'll have to rush her through.”
Orde repeated this to his associate.
“That was smooth enough sailing,” he exulted.
“Yes,” pondered Newmark, removing his glasses and tapping his thumb with their edge. “Yes,” he repeated, “that was smooth sailing. What was that about rollways?”
“Oh, I told him we'd expect him to break out his own,” said Orde.
“Yes, but what does that mean exactly?”
“Why,” explained Orde, with a slight stare of surprise, “when the logs are cut and hauled during the winter, they are banked on the river-banks, and even in the river-channel itself. Then, when the thaws come in the spring, these piles are broken down and set afloat in the river.”
“I see,” said Newmark. “Well, but why shouldn't we undertake that part of it? I should think that would be more the job of the river-drivers.”
“It would hold back our drive too much to have to stop and break rollways,” explained Orde.
The next morning they took the early train for Monrovia, where were situated the big mills and the offices of the nine other lumber companies. Within an hour they had descended at the small frame terminal station, and were walking together up the village street.