“Do you think I care about that, John? Don't you know I love you because you're so strong and good, and you can do so much. Everybody knows you're going to be rich some day. Jim, he says there ain't another man in town that's got as much sand as you have, John.” So they talked all through the long evening, telling each other their thoughts and plans and hopes; and her trust in him gave Hunch a sense of strength and responsibility. When he left her, very late, at the front steps, he had thought of a plan which he kept for the time to himself. CHAPTER IX--THE STORM |IN the morning, directly after breakfast, Hunch went to see the foreman of the elevator gang. “Where're you getting your timber, Murphy?” he asked. “Getting most of it up at Manistee.” “Got it in yet?” “More'n half of it. The rest of it's a late order.” “How much is there to come?” “About fifty thousand.” “How's it delivered?” “F. O. B. on the dock here. Why, you looking for a job?” “Yes, wouldn't mind. I could get it down here cheaper'n the railroad, and pretty near as quick.” “Navigation's closed, though. I don't know as the Manistee folks 'd want to risk it.” “Yes, but look at that.” Hunch motioned toward the lake, which lay blue and sparkling beyond the Buttersville sandspit. “Quiet as August and it's a short run. There ain't hardly any ice either.” “Well, you might talk to 'em up at Manistee, Hunch. Of course, they can deliver anyhow they like, but I can't run chances of delay.” So Hunch went over to the telegraph office in the railroad station, and after a great deal of writing and rewriting made up the following message: _To Wm. F. Jackson, Esq.,_ _Pres't Manistee Timber Co.:_ _Will deliver the Liddington elevator bill of fifty thousand feet by Lake, One Hundred Dollars. If terms satisfactory, wire reply, so I can deliver while weather holds fair._ _J. Badeau._ When this message reached Jackson, he was sitting at his desk, with the railroad rate figured out on a sheet of paper before him. He promptly laid the two offers side by side and looked from one to the other. There was no doubt that the lake route would be cheaper. But, on the other hand, it was now after the first of December, and navigation was nominally closed on the great lakes. Insurance he could get, if at all, only at a prohibitive rate. It was a question of judgment, and before deciding it, Mr. Jackson got up and walked over to the window. The busy little city of Manistee shut off his view of Lake Michigan, but he knew it was flat as a mirror. Not many hours earlier he had stood by another window, in his big house on the bluff, and as he shaved he had looked out over miles and miles of blue water, as calm as in June. It was warm enough for mid-autumn; the barometer promised continued dear weather. Altogether, Badeau's offer had decidedly the best of it. So he sent a message to “J. Badeau, Liddington,” asking him to bring up his schooner at once.