Rod sat silent. It struck him that Grove was thrusting at him. And it struck him, too, how little either of his brothers knew about the men they were discussing. They didn't discuss them as men, so much as material,--a commodity, a necessary part of the producing machinery which had the inconvenient quality of voicing its wants. As if a donkey engine should protest against an overload. Rod himself had got under the logger's skin. He would never be able to think of them except as men, to deal with them otherwise. They had their vices and virtues, but they were not impersonal machines. He could not impart this knowledge, convey such an attitude and feeling, to his brothers. "First time I ever heard 'em kicking for baths," Phil grinned. "Did you start a movement for cleanliness while you were among them, Rod?" "It wasn't necessary," Rod assured him. "Most loggers like to be clean if there's a chance. I bathed in the creek like the rest. I've scrubbed myself off in a hand-basin in the winter. I didn't think much of the inconvenience. I suppose because I knew I could get away from it any time I wanted to. They can't. I'm for plenty of baths, in every camp we run. It's only common decency." "That's simple. I expect, on the whole, we'd better give them what they ask without quibbling. I've always found it pays to keep 'em reasonably satisfied." "You'd better consult the governor before you commit yourself," Grove said meaningly. "I'm opposed to it myself." "My dearest elder brother," Phil shot back instantly with exaggerated, icy politeness, "when you elected to pursue a career in finance, the direction of the timber operations of the Norquay Estate devolved on me. So long as I have the authority I shall use my own judgment. Yours not to reason why--yours but to reap the profits that accrue. You try putting your fingers in this pie and you'll get them pinched. Do you get me?" "You know," he went on sarcastically, after a brief silence, in which Grove's face reddened perceptibly, "you really aren't in any condition to give an impartial opinion on anything so early this morning. Too heavy a hangover. Too many cocktails. Too much of a muchness. You can't stand the pace the way you used to. You come out of your morning bath grouching instead of singing. So leave the loggers and logging to me. I have about decided to concede them both points." "_I_ would," Rod impulsively put himself on record. "Not only as a matter of policy, but as a matter of simple justice." "Oh, you," Grove turned on him. In his voice repressed fury and utter contempt seemed to struggle for mastery. "One would naturally expect _you_ to support any extravagant claim from such a source. You fraternized with them. No doubt you find yourself quite comfortable on terms of equality with them. Particularly since you went the length of picking up a wife from among them. I have had about--"