Craig did not reply at once, and she added, with ingenuous affectation of desiring to bring forward reasons for his agreement, "If the Comas company does join drives with us you will have the help of a perfectly wonderful crew, Mr. Craig. I'm told that we're a week or ten days ahead of the usual time--and the men have never seemed to be considering mere wages!" The Three C's director rolled his eyes, avoiding her candidly provoking regard. He shifted his gaze to Latisan, who had turned his back on the group and was still whittling placidly, propped against a tree by his shoulder. "Wonderful teamwork," growled the Comas man. "But sticking out for anything else will be a fool stunt. Miss Kennard, there's a lawyer over there in the woods, somewhere! The thing to do now seems to be to hunt him up so that he can help us to pass papers of agreement." He swung his hand to indicate the bateau. "Will you go with me?" She hesitated. Then she smiled amiably on Craig. "I think I'd rather walk along the path, sir. I'll meet you and the lawyer at this end of the dam." Craig trudged down to the boat and was swept away into the fog. Latisan did not turn; he kept on whittling. "Mr. Latisan!" she invited. "May I have your company to the dam? I'm sorry to trouble you, but I may be obliged to refer to you for further advice." "I feel called on to remark," said old Vittum, always an irrepressible commentator when comment seemed to be necessary, speaking after Latisan and Lida had walked away into the mist--"I'll say to all that she knows her business." "But it was Latisan who advised her," objected a literalist. "Hell! I ain't speaking of this drive," snapped the old man. "I'm complimenting her on a job where she doesn't need anybody's advice!" CHAPTER THIRTY The sun at meridian that day burned away the mists, for it was May and the high sun was able to prevail. The sluiceway of Skulltree dam was open and in the caldron of the gorge a yeasty flood boiled and the sunlight painted rainbows in the drifting spume. Rolling cumbrously, end over end, at the foot of the sluice, lifting glistening, dripping flanks, sinking and darting through the white smother of the waters, the logs of the Flagg drive had begun their flight to the holdbooms of Adonia. Lida and the taciturn squire whom she had drafted had climbed to the cliffs above the gorge in order to behold the first fruits of the compact which had been concluded with Craig and the Comas. Latisan went with her to the cliff because she had asked him to show her the way. His manner with her was not exactly shyness; she had been studying him, trying anxiously to penetrate his thoughts. He was reserved, but awkwardly so; it was more like embarrassment; it was a mingling of deference and despair in the face of a barrier.