“We can follow the line of the tote-road,” he said.  “I blazed it to the railway, and by the way, Cameron said that McNabb had already started construction—­had twenty or thirty miles of it completed several days ago.”

“Started construction?” cried Orcutt.  “Construction of what?”

“The tote-road.  He figured it would be quicker and cheaper to haul his material for the mill in from the new railway than to ship by boat around through the Bay to Port Nelson, and then drag it up the river by scow.”

“And you mean to say he’s started the work?  Laid out good money on top of what his options cost him—­and forgot to take up the options?”

“That’s just what he’s done, according to Cameron.”

Orcutt burst out laughing.  “We’ll let him go ahead and build the road,” he cried.  “Every dollar he puts in will be ninety cents saved for us.  It may be two or three weeks before he finds out that he has lost the timber, and possibly the road will be completed by that time.  Then I’ll buy it in for almost nothing.  McNabb has certainly gone fluie!  And in the meantime we will use his road to haul in our own material.  I’ll wire Strang to begin hustling the stuff through.”

XX

After watching Orcutt depart, Cameron folded his maps and his papers and walked around to the trading room where Murchison and his clerk were comparing the skins of a silver gray and a black cross fox.

The clerk greeted him with a smile.  “Just the man I wanted to see, Mr. Cameron.  In fact I was about to go in search of you.”

Cameron stared at him in surprise.  During the day or two he had spent at the post, he had come to regard the clerk as a stupid, morose individual, whose only excuse for existence, as Murchison had said, was his knowledge of fur.  But here was this unkempt clerk actually smiling, and addressing him as a man of affairs.  He glanced inquiringly at Murchison before replying.  “And why should you go in search of me?”

“As accredited representative of the Canadian Wild Lands Company, I have business to transact with you.”  Hedin stepped forward and extended a paper.  “I represent John McNabb.”

“John McNabb!” cried Cameron, staring at him as though he had taken leave of his senses.  “You mean——­”

Hedin interrupted him, speaking crisply.  “I mean that this paper, as you will note, is a power of attorney which gives me authority to transact any and all business for Mr. McNabb, concerning the purchase of certain pulp-wood lands.”

“Dut, man!” cried Cameron excitedly.

Ignoring the interruption, Hedin continued.  “And I hereby, in the presence of Mr. Murchison, tender payment of ten percent, of the purchase price, as provided in the terms of the option contract.”

“But you’re too late!” roared Cameron.  “McNabb’s options expired at noon!  The land has been sold and payment accepted!  Good Lord, man!  Do you mean that McNabb sent you up here to close the deal, and you deliberately neglected to attend to it until the options had expired?”