The spectator., 1919-12-09
CHAPTER II.
Lafe conneII Explains.

 buggy and started out with Lafe, with the intention of covering a portion of the limits and seeing the operations of the jobbers he also meant to keep his eyes open as to the nature of the timber.
 The buggy surmounted a hill, and another hill appeared in the distance. Here and there, scattered along the roadside. were solitary cabins. with little patches of cultivated ground about them.
 And on the right of the road is the Ste. Marie territory?" asked Hilary.
 "Yep, Mir. Askew. The two runs neck and neck back into them noun tains. We turn off presently. We haven't touched this district yet"
 Hilary noted the first-growth spruce along the banks "Why don't we cut this. anyway. if the rest is mainly fr?" he asked. "There'S enough lum- Der here to fill our dam instead of the Ste. Marie companys logs"
 Lafe answered volubly, but did not meet Hilary's eyes.
 "You see, Mr. Askew," he began to explain "it's this way. There's good deal of fir on our property, and what pine and spruce there is is small ish. There was a big fire over this district fifteen years or so ago. Now Mir. Morris calculates that if we go slow for while and give the trees a chance to grow they'll be worth twice as much in a few years. We're de- veloping the property slowly, Mir. ASkew-'
 Hilary's hand fell on Lafe's shoul- der. "Connell," he said, "I brought you up here with me to learn the truth from you. You're going to sign on again on October first, and it's me you're going to sign with, not Mir. Morris. Now tell me the facts about all this"
 Lafe stammered and hung his head like a schoolboy caught in wrong doing. But Hilary's hand was grip ping his shoulder, and at last Lafe raised his head and looked straight at Hilary.
 If I thought you'd stick here" he said, T guess I'd back you to the linn it. But you'll never stand for St. Boniface, Mir. Askew. They're so in- formally slow here, they ain't got hu- I thought when I heard you was com ing, you'd be like Mir. Morris-I mean. wise to the game-but you ain't. I guess most business is crooked every where. but here it's crooked all through. You'll be selling out to Mir. Brousseau in months time, and that'll be my finish"
 "You're dead wrong, Connell," an- Swered Hilary. q like the looks of this country, and I'm here to stay. Now suppose you forget about MT. Brousseau for a while and consider yourself to be what you are, my paid employee. And you can count on my standing by you.'
 He held his hand out. For a mo- ment Lafe Councils keen gray eyes met his searching inquiry; then he took Hilary's hand and wrung 1t.
 ''I believe you mean what you say, Mir. Askew," he returned. And you can reckon on me so far as my duty goes."
 ''I suppose that tale about the Ros- ny seigniory being nothing but fir is a lie. Connell?" asked Hilary pres ently, as the pony ambled through valley overgrown with red pine.
 
 "Mostly," said Lafe. "There is a deal of fir, but there's enough spruce and pine to make the concession pay, if Mir. Morris wanted it to-"
 "So Morris has been playing double"
 Lafe nodded. You see, Mir. Askew, it's this way" he said. "When Morris came up here I believe he meant to run straight. But he'd been lumber man in a small way up in Ontario, and he wasn't wise to the game as it's played here. Here it's graft, and it's never been nothing else. So when Morris found your uncle didn't know nothing about the business, and left it in his hands, he naturally fell for the game Brousseau was playing.
 "Brousseau is the big man up here,  and he'd had his eye on the Rosny seigniory for a long time. He wanted to buy, but Rosny was sore on him, and he closed the deal with your uncle instead. But afterward Brousseau got the mortgage on the Chateau and the little bit of land round it, to keep hold on Rosny.
 "Well, the Rosny seigniory is the only piece of freehold up this way. Be yond it's government land, and all round it's government land. Brous seau started in to squeeze your uncle $ out. And Morris went with him. Ht played double as you were saying Mir. Askew. The point of the whole