Joan of Arc of the North Woods | Page 5

to their advantage--seen it in the right light."
"Mr. Craig's tactics have driven some small concerns to see it that way,
sir. But my grandfather was operating in the north and supplying the
sawmills with timber before the paper mills began to grab off every tree
big enough to prop a spruce bud. Villages have been built up around
the sawmills. If the paper folks get hold of everything those villages
will die; all the logs will be run down to the paper mills."
"Naturally," said the sallow man. "Paper is king these days."
Then he received a handful of documents from a clerk who entered,
again referred Ward to Mr. Craig, advised him to treat with the latter in
the field, where the business belonged, and hunched a dismissing
shoulder toward the caller.
Ward had not been asked to sit down; he swung on his heel, but he
stopped and turned. "As to selling out, even if we can bring ourselves
to that! Mr. Craig has beaten independents to their knees and has made
them accept his price. It's not much else than ruin when a man sells to
him."
"Persecutional mania is a dangerous hallucination," stated the sallow
man. "Mr. Craig has accomplished certain definite results in the north
country. We have used the word Consolidated in our corporation name
with full knowledge of what we are after. We assure stable conditions
in the timber industry. You must move with the trend of the times."

Latisan had been revolving in his mind certain statements which he
proposed to make to the big men of the Comas. He had assorted and
classified those statements before he entered the castle of the great
corporation. With youth's optimism he had anticipated a certain
measure of sympathy--had in some degree pictured at least one kindly
man in the Comas outfit who would listen to a young chap's troubles.
Walking to the door, standing with his hand on the knob, he knew he
must go back to the woods with the dolorous prospect of being obliged
to fight to hold together the remnants of the Latisan business. He set his
teeth and opened the door. He would have gone without further words,
but the sallow man snapped a half threat which brought Ward around
on his heels.
"Mr. Latisan, I hope you will carry away with you the conviction that
fighting the Comas company will not get you anything."
Ward choked for a moment. Old John was stirring in him. A fettered
yelp was bulging in his throat, and the skin of the back of his head
tingled as if the hair were rising. But he spoke quietly when he allowed
his voice to squeeze past the repressed impulse. "There's a real fight
ready to break in the north country, sir."
"Do you propose to be captain?"
"I have no such ambition. But your Mr. Craig is forcing the issue. No
company is big enough to buck the law in our state."
"Look here, my good fellow!" The sallow man came around in his chair.
Ward immediately was more fully informed as to the personage's status.
"I am one of the attorneys of this corporation. I have been attending to
the special acts your legislature has passed in our behalf. We are fully
protected by law."
"The question is how much you'll be protected after facts are brought
out by a fight," replied Ward, stoutly. "I know the men who have been
sent down to the legislature from our parts and how they were elected.
But even such men get cold feet after the public gets wise."

"That'll be enough!" snapped the attorney. He turned to his desk again.
"Yes, it looks like it," agreed young Latisan; he did not bang the door
after him; he closed it softly.
The attorney was obliged to look around to assure himself that his
caller was not in the room. Then he pushed a button and commanded a
clerk to ask if Mr. Craig was still in the president's office. Informed that
Mr. Craig was there, the attorney went thither.
"I have just been bothered by that young chap, Latisan, from the Tomah
region," reported Dawes, the attorney. "He threatens a fight which will
rip the cover off affairs in the north country. How about what's
underneath, provided the cover is ripped off, Craig?"
"Everything sweet as a nut! Any other kind of talk is bluff and
blackmail. So that's young Latisan's latest move, eh?" he ejaculated,
squinting appraisingly at Dawes and turning full gaze of candor's fine
assumption on Horatio Marlow, the president.
"Just who is this young Latisan?" inquired Marlow.
"Oh, only the son of one of the independents who are sticking out on a
hold-up against us. Did he name his price, Dawes?"
"He didn't