“Do you understand that the man we send must take the whole undertaking on his own shoulders? Neither Mr. Jerrard nor myself cares to think about the matter, even.” “I'll be glad to be instructed, sir.” “You'll have instructions as to limit of construction cost per mile, authority to draw on us as you need money, and the road must be in operation by the middle of July. Now Jerrard speaks well of your qualifications. What do you think?” “I am ready to accept the commission, sir.” “You'll have to get away at once, Parker,” said Jerrard. “You must get construction material and supplies across Spinnaker before the ice breaks up. You can depend on the most of April for ice.” “I can start when you say the word.” “We shall rush material. Suppose you start to-morrow morning?” “I'll start sir.” He left the room when he was informed that his instructions would await him that evening. “Jerrard,” said the president, gazing after the young man, “your friend isn't an especially _pretty_ frog but I'll bet he can jump more than once his length.” CHAPTER FOUR--IN WHICH THE DOUGHTY “SWAMP SWOGON” ASTONISHES SUNKHAZE SETTLEMENT Two days afterward Parker ate his supper at the Sunkhaze tavern and spent the evening going over the schedule of material that was following him by freight, its progress over connecting lines hastened by all the “pull” inspired by the P. K. & R.'s bills of lading. The next morning, even while the frosty sun was red behind the spruces, he had arranged with the station agent for side-track privileges, and then questioned that functionary regarding local conditions. “I need twenty or more four-horse teams,” said Parker. “What's the best way to advertise here?” “I reckon you can advertise and advertise,” replied the station agent, “but that's all the good it'll do you. Colonel Gid Ward has about every spare team in this county yardin' logs for him this winter.” “What does he pay?” “Thirty-five a month for a span o' hosses, and hosses and man kept.” “I'll pay forty-five and feed.” “I shouldn't want to be the man that went up on Gid Ward's operations and tried to hire his teams away!” growled the agent. “You can't hire any one round here for an errand of that kind.” “I'd go myself if I thought I could get the horses,” said Parker. “I'd advise you to save yourself a fifty-mile ride up the tote-road,” the agent counseled. “Even if Ward didn't catch you, you'd find that no man would da'st to leave there. Furthermore, you've only got a little, short job here, scarcely worth while.” The logic of the reply impressed Parker. He could not spare the time anyway, to travel far up into the woods in quest of horses. His material must be conveyed across Spinnaker Lake in some other way. “How far is it up the lake to Poquette?” he asked the agent. “Sixteen miles.” An hour later Parker, after a tour of inspection, had settled his problem of transportation in his own mind. His plan was ingenious.