Tommy Eye's astonishing declaration from the house-top that the timber magnates of Jerusalem townships were proposing to marry the girl off to Colin MacLeod, boss of "Britt's Busters," and that, too, in spite of MacLeod's lack of affection, had some effect in enlisting Ide's sympathies and interference. But his daughter's spirited championship of the poor girl was really the influence that clinched matters with the puzzled Mr. Ide. "Rodburd," declared the Honorable Pulaski, approaching him on the contemptuous retreat from Barrett, "you've gone to work and stuck your nose into matters that don't concern you. Your man Wade there, instead of attending to your operation on Enchanted, has been spending his time beauing that girl around these woods and stirring up a blackmail scheme. I'm telling you as a friend that you'd better ship him. He's going to make more trouble for you than he has yet. He isn't fit for the woods. I found it out and fired him. Do the same yourself, or you'll never get your logs down and through the Hulling Machine." "Do you mean that you're going to fight him on the drive on account of your grudge?" demanded Ide. "I don't mean that," blustered Britt. "It's the man himself who'll queer you." "I don't believe it," replied Ide, stoutly. "There are some things goin' on here that I don't understand the inside of up to now; but as for that young man, I picked him for square the first time I laid my eyes on him at Castonia. I've had him looked up by friends of mine outside, and now I know he's square. You can't break up our partnership by that kind of talk, Britt. Now own up! What's the nigger in the woodpile here, anyway?" The little man was still unbending, but his eyes snapped with curiosity. But the Honorable Pulaski's shifty eyes dodged the inquiring stare of the Castonia man. The view down the tote road in the direction in which Nina Ide and Kate Arden had disappeared under convoy of Christopher Straight seemed to be a more welcome prospect than that frankly inquisitive face. And the view down the trail also suggested a safer topic for conversation. "I believe in indulgin' a girl's whims, Rod, but this is a time when you've let yourself go too far. That lucivee[2] kitten that your daughter has lugged off home set this fire that we've been fightin' up here. She set it maliciously, in the face and eyes of Sheriff Rodliff and myself. She's the worst one of the whole lot, and as a plantation officer you know the Skeets and Bushees pretty well. Are you goin' to let your girl take a critter like that back home with her?" He noted a flicker of consternation in the little man's eyes. "Now, don't be a fool in this thing. Let a half-dozen men run after that girl and fetch her back. She don't belong in any decent home. John Barrett and I have arranged a plan to take care of her and keep her out of mischief." [Footnote 2: Lynx, corruption of the French-Canadian name, _loup-cervier_.]