“It may be a mistake,” said Scattergood.  “Calculate it is a mistake to own a railroad.  But ’tain’t the only mistake I ever made.”

“You own the road?”

“Calculate to.”

Evidently the stranger was not impressed by Scattergood in a manner to arouse him to a notable exertion of courtesy.  He allowed it to appear in his manner that he set a light value on Scattergood; in fact, that it was not exactly pleasant to him to be compelled to do business with such a human being.  Scattergood’s eyes twinkled and he wriggled his toes.

“Well, Baines,” said the stranger, “I want to talk business to you.”

“Step into my private office,” said Scattergood, motioning to a chair at his side, “and rest your legs.”

“I’m thinking of establishing a plant below,” said the stranger.  “A very considerable plant.  In studying the situation it seems as if your railroad might be run as an adjunct to my business.  I suppose it can be bought.”

“Supposing” said Scattergood, “is free as air.”

“I’ll take it off your hands at a fair figure.”

“‘Tain’t layin’ heavy on my hands,” said Scattergood.

“How much did it cost you?”

“A heap less ’n I’ll sell for....  You hain’t mentioned your name.”

“McKettrick.”

Scattergood nodded.

“I’d sell to a man of that name.”

“How much?”

“One million dollars,” said Scattergood.

“You’re—­you’re crazy,” said McKettrick.  It was an exclamation of disgust, a statement of belief, and a cry of pain.  “I might go a quarter of a million.”

“This here’s a one-price store—­marked plain on the goods.  Customers is requested not to haggle.”

“You’re not serious?”

“One million dollars.”

“I’ll build a road down my side of the river.”

“Maybe.  Can be done.  Twelve mile of tunnel and the rest trestle.  Wouldn’t cost more ‘n fifteen, twenty million—­if you’re figgerin’ on the west side of the stream....  How you figgerin’ on gettin’ your pulp wood down to Tupper Falls?”

“What?...  What’s that?”

“Goin’ to log, yourself, or job it?”

“Look here, Baines, what do you know?”

“About what’s needful.  I try to keep posted.”

“Tell me what you know.  I insist.”

Scattergood opened his eyes and peered over his dumpling cheeks at McKettrick, but said nothing.

“And how you found it out.”

“I’ve been figgerin’ over your case,” said Scattergood.  “I’ll give you a sidetrack into your yards pervidin’ you pay the cost of bridgin’ and layin’ the track, me to furnish ties and rails. Also, I’ll give you a commodity rate of seven cents to the G. and B. As to sellin’, I don’t calc’late you want to buy at a million.  But that hain’t no sign you and me can’t do business.  You got to log by rail.  You got to cut consid’able number of cords of pulpwood.  I’ll build your loggin’ road, and I’ll contract to cut your pulp and deliver it....  Want to go into it with me?”