"Ah, _oui_! Eet is now the, what-you-say, the swing-around point. To-night Ba'teese go out. Where? Ah, you shall wait an' see. Ba'teese go--Ba'teese come back. Then you shall see. Ah, _oui_! Then you shall see." For an hour or so after that he boomed about the cabin, singing queer old songs in a _patois_, rumbling to the faithful Golemar, washing the dishes while Houston wiped them, joking, talking of everything but the troubles of the day and the plans of the night. Outside the shadows grew heavier, finally to turn to pitch darkness. The bull bats began to circle about the cabin. Ba'tiste walked to the door. "_Bon_! Good!" he exclaimed. "The sky, he is full of cloud'. The star, he do not shine. _Bon_! Ba'teese shall go." And with a final wave of the hand, still keeping his journey a mystery, he went forth into the night. Long Houston waited for his return, but he did not come. The old, creaking clock on the rustic ledge ticked away the minutes and the hours until midnight, but still no crunching of gravel relieved his anxious ears, still no gigantic form of the grizzled, bearded trapper showed in the doorway. One o'clock came and went. Two--three. Houston still waited. Four--and a scratch on the door. It was Golemar, followed a moment later by a grinning, twinkling-eyed Ba'tiste. "_Bon_! Good!" he exclaimed. "See, Golemar? What I say to you? He wait up for Ba'teese. _Bon_! Now--_alert, mon ami_! The pencil and the paper!" He slumped into a chair and dived into a pocket of his red shirt, to bring forth a mass of scribbled sheets, to stare at them, striving studiously to make out the writing. "Ba'teese, he put eet down by a match in the shelter of a lumber pile," came at last. "Eet is all, what-you-say, scramble up. But we shall see--ah, _oui_--we shall see. Now," he looked toward Houston, waiting anxiously with paper and pencil, "we shall put eet in the list. So. One million ties, seven by eight by eight feet, at the one dollar and the forty cents. Put that down." "I have it. But what--" "Wait! Five thousan' bridge timber, ten by ten by sixteen feet, at the three dollar and ninety cents." "Yes--" "Ten thousand feet of the four by four, at--" "Ba'tiste!" Houston had risen suddenly. "What have you got there?" The trapper grinned and pulled at his gray-splotched beard. "Oh, ho! Golemar! He wan' to know. Shall we tell heem, eh? Ah, _oui_--" he shook his big shoulders and spread his hands. "Eet is--the copy of the bid!" "The copy? The bid?" "From the Blackburn mill. There is no one aroun'. Ba'teese, he go through a window. Ba'teese, he find heem--in a file. And he bring back the copy." "Then--" "M'sieu Houston, he too will bid. But he will make it lower. And this," he tapped the scribbled scraps of paper, "is cheaper than any one else. Eet is because of the location. M'sieu Houston--he know what they bid. He will make eet cheaper."