Big Junko and Anderson deposited their burden on the raised platform of the office steps. Thorpe turned and fronted the crowd. At once pandemonium broke loose, as though the previous performance had been nothing but a low-voiced rehearsal. The men looked upon their leader and gave voice to the enthusiasm that was in them. He stood alone there, straight and tall, the muscles of his brown face set to hide his emotion, his head thrust back proudly, the lines of his strong figure tense with power,--the glorification in finer matter of the hardy, reliant men who did him honor. “Oh, aren't you PROUD of him?” gasped Hilda, squeezing Helen's arm with a little sob. In a moment Wallace Carpenter, his countenance glowing with pride and pleasure, mounted the platform and stood beside his friend, while Morton and the two young ladies stopped half way up the steps. At once the racket ceased. Everyone stood at attention. “Mr. Thorpe,” Wallace began, “at the request of your friends here, I have a most pleasant duty to fulfill. They have asked me to tell you how glad they are to see you; that is surely unnecessary. They have also asked me to congratulate you on having won the fight with our rivals.” “You done 'em good.” “Can't down the Old Fellow,” muttered joyous voices. “But,” said Wallace, “I think that I first have a story to tell on my own account. “At the time the jam broke this spring, we owed the men here for a year's work. At that time I considered their demand for wages ill-timed and grasping. I wish to apologize. After the money was paid them, instead of scattering, they set to work under Jack Radway and Tim Shearer to salvage your logs. They have worked long hours all summer. They have invested every cent of their year's earnings in supplies and tools, and now they are prepared to show you in the Company's booms, three million feet of logs, rescued by their grit and hard labor from total loss.” At this point the speaker was interrupted. “Saw off,” “Shut up,” “Give us a rest,” growled the audience. “Three million feet ain't worth talkin' about,” “You make me tired,” “Say your little say the way you oughter,” “Found purty nigh two millions pocketed on Mare's Island, or we wouldn't a had that much,” “Damn-fool undertaking, anyhow.” “Men,” cried Thorpe, “I have been very fortunate. From failure success has come. But never have I been more fortunate than in my friends. The firm is now on its feet. It could afford to lose three times the logs it lost this year--” He paused and scanned their faces.