It was an easy matter to locate the concern mentioned. The offices were in a new stone building near the water front. There was something of a corridor, with several places that were railed off. Near one of the railings was a settee, and an office boy told them to be seated until somebody had time to wait on them. A dozen clerks and officers were present, and the air was filled with the hum of voices and the click-clicking of typewriters. "They must do some business here," whispered Dale. "I heard one man speak of a consignment of a quarter of a million feet of lumber." Not far from where they sat was a corner office. Here at a roller-top desk was a middle-aged man, thin and pale of countenance. He was talking to a visitor, a rough, bearded individual, evidently from the Far West. "I'll see Balasco about that deal," the visitor was saying. "And if he agrees we'll be in good shape to go ahead." "That's true, Hildan," was the hesitating reply. "But I--er--I question the--er----" "Oh, it's all right, Mr. Force. The deal is as straight as a string." "It doesn't look so to me." "But it is, take my word on it. That contract will come this way, and when it does I, of course, will get my commission." "Certainly, you'll get your commission." "Then that settles it and I won't take any more of your time. If you see Wilbur tell him----" At that moment the bearded man glanced toward the doorway and stopped short. Another person had come in, and, looking in the direction, Dale and Owen saw that it was Jefferson Wilbur himself who had entered. They were on the point of greeting their friend, when the bearded man rushed forward and caught Mr. Wilbur by the hand and shook it earnestly. He pretended to be greatly pleased at the meeting, but the same could not be said of the one whom he met, who took his hand coldly. Then followed an earnest talk for several minutes, and the bearded man showed several documents he carried in his pocket. "Well, I'll think it over, Mr. Hildan," said Mr. Wilbur at last, and the two separated, and Hildan left the offices quietly and swiftly. "That fellow is a sharper, and I know it," whispered Owen to Dale. "And I guess Mr. Wilbur knows it, too, for he didn't seem to care to have much to do with him." Jefferson Wilbur now saw the two young lumbermen, and came toward them. "Were you looking for me?" he asked, as he shook hands. "Hardly that, but we are glad to see you," answered Owen, and then told how they chanced to be there. "That job didn't pan out, eh?" said the lumber merchant. "I am sorry to hear it--for your sakes. But I think I can locate you at something better." "At one of the camps of this company?"