“Is it likely to sell at a price in excess of the indebtedness?” Shirley queried anxiously.

“It is possible, but scarcely probable,” he answered dryly.  “I have in mind, under those circumstances, bidding the property in for the Laguna Grande Lumber Company and merging it with our holdings, paying part of the purchase-price of the Cardigan property in Cardigan bonds, and the remainder in cash.”

“But what will the Cardigans do then, Uncle Seth?”

“Well, long before the necessity for such a contingency arises, the old man will have been gathered to the bosom of Abraham; and after the Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company has ceased to exist, young Cardigan can go to work for a living.”

“Would you give him employment, Uncle Seth?”

“I would not.  Do you think I’m crazy, Shirley?  Remember, my dear, there is no sentiment in business.  If there was, we wouldn’t have any business.”

“I think I understand, Uncle Seth—­with the exception of what effect the building of the N. C. O. has upon your plans.”

“Item two,” he challenged, and ticked it off on his middle finger.  “The Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company owns two fine bodies of redwood timber widely separated—­one to the south of Sequoia in the San Hedrin watershed and at present practically valueless because inaccessible, and the other to the north of Sequoia, immediately adjoining our holdings in Township Nine and valuable because of its accessibility.”  He paused a moment and looked at her smilingly, “The logging railroad of our corporation, the Laguna Grande Lumber Company, makes it accessible.  Now, while the building of the N.C.O. would be a grand thing for the county in general, we can get along without it because it doesn’t help us out particularly.  We already have a railroad running from our timber to tidewater, and we can reach the markets of the world with our ships.”

“I think I understand, Uncle Seth.  When Cardigan’s hauling contract with our road expires, his timber in Township Nine will depreciate in value because it will no longer be accessible, while our timber, being still accessible, retains its value.”

“Exactly.  And to be perfectly frank with you, Shirley, I do not want Cardigan’s timber in Township Nine given back its value through accessibility provided by the N.C.O.  If that road is not built, Cardigan’s timber in Township Nine will be valuable to us, but not to another living soul.  Moreover, the Trinidad Redwood Timber Company has a raft of fine timber still farther north and adjoining the holdings of our company and Cardigan’s, and if this infernal N.C.O. isn’t built, we’ll be enabled to buy that Trinidad timber pretty cheap one of these bright days, too.”

“All of which appears to me to constitute sound business logic, Uncle Seth.”

He nodded.  “Item three,” he continued, and ticked it off on his third finger:  “I want to see the feeder for a transcontinental line built into Sequoia from the south, for the reason that it will tap the Cardigan holdings in the San Hedrin watershed and give a tremendous value to timber which at the present time is rather a negative asset; consequently I would prefer to have that value created after Cardigan’s San Hedrin timber has been merged with the assets of the Laguna Grande Lumber Company.”