"Make it six, and I'll take it. It ought to be worth something not to have to hunt up a buyer." "It is," answered Cameron. "But seven dollars is the price. In a month--two months it will be eight." "About two percent down?" "Ten." "Ten percent!" raved Orcutt. "Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars! Do you think a man takes a jaunt into the woods with any such amount of money as that in his possession?" "I think you did. If not, then as you people say in the States, you are out of luck." "I'll buy an option on it." Cameron shook his head. "No, the time has come for a sale. We can't afford to hold timber ourselves, and as to finding purchasers, I know a dozen men who would snap it up at seven dollars." "All right," growled Orcutt. "Make out your papers and I'll sign 'em. At least, we can get the routine business all finished to-day so all there will be left to do to-morrow noon will be to sign up and pay over the money." "No harm in that," agreed Cameron. "I shall proceed at once to draw up a contract of sale. Just a question or two will give me all the information I need. In the first place, is the prospective purchaser an individual or a corporation?" "Corporation. The Eureka Paper Company." "And their home office?" "Orcutt, Canada." "Orcutt? Where is Orcutt?" Orcutt smiled. "There isn't any--now. But there will be one as soon as we start construction of the mill. The enterprise will be of sufficient magnitude to necessitate a town at the mill site, and the name of that town will be Orcutt." "Very good. I think that is all I need to know." "About the subsequent payments----" began Orcutt, but Cameron interrupted him: "Let us not discuss that now. The better way will be for you to allow me to draw up the contract, and then to-morrow morning we can go over it, clause by clause." "Good idea," agreed Orcutt. "Come on, Wentworth," and leading the way from the cabin, he spent half an hour strolling about among the tepees viewing their owners, their _lares_, _penates_ and offspring as he would have inspected an exhibit at a fair. Tiring of this, he led the way to a fallen log at the edge of the clearing, and produced his cigar case. "How is everything in Terrace City?" asked Wentworth, as he lighted his cigar. "Oh, about as usual, I guess. Been so damned busy getting this paper deal in shape for the last two months that I haven't had much time to keep track of things. By the way, you remember Hedin--that clerk in old John McNabb's fur department?" "Yes, I believe I do." "Well, old John trusted him to the limit--made a kind of a pet of him--and what does the fellow do but slip up to the store one night and steal a Russian sable coat, worth somewhere around thirty thousand. Then the damned fool, instead of getting out of the country, stayed right on the job. Of course old John missed the coat next day, and the night watchman told of Hedin's visit to the store."