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The Project
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Dust, by Peter B.Kyne
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Title: Kindred of the Dust
Author: Peter B. Kyne
Release Date: September 26, 200eBook #13532]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
***START OF THE PROJECT
GUTENBERG EBOOK KINDRED OFTHE DUST***
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KINDRED OFTHE DUST
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BY
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PETER B. KYNE
AUTHOR OF
CAPPY RICKS, THE VALLEY OF THE
GIANTS, WEBSTERMAN'S MAN, ETC
ILLUSTRATED BY
DEAN CORNWELL1920
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TO IRENE
MY DEAR, TYRANNICAL
PRACTICAL LITTLE FOSTER-SISTER
WITHOUT WHOSE AID ANDCOMFORT, HOOTS, CHEERS AND
UNAUTHORIZED STRIKES, THE
QUANTITY AND QUALITY OF MY
ALLEGED LITERARY OUTPUT
WOULD BE APPRECIABLY
DIMINISHED, THIS BOOK I
AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
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CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER IIICHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VIICHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
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CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIIICHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XX
CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXII
CHAPTER XXIII
CHAPTER XXIV
CHAPTER XXVCHAPTER XXVI
CHAPTER XXVIII
CHAPTER XXIX
CHAPTER XXXCHAPTER XXXI
CHAPTER XXXII
CHAPTER XXXIII
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THE
ILLUSTRATIONS
Hector McKaye was bre
of an acquisitive race
She stole to the old squar
piano and sang for him
Donald bowed his head, "
can't give her up, father"
"I'm a man without a hom
and you've justgotto take m
in, Nan"
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Whenever The Laird put his dream
behind him, he always looked seaward. I
he course of time, his home-boun
skippers, sighting the white house on thheadland and knowing that The Laird wa
apt to be up there watching, formed th
habit of doing something that pleased thei
owner mightily. When the northwesrades held steady and true, and while th
ide was still at the flood, they woul
scorn the services of the tug that went ou
o meet them and come ramping into th
bight, all their white sails set and the glor
of the sun upon them; as they swept past
far below The Laird, they would dip hihouse-flaga burgee, scarlet-edged, wit
a fir tree embroidered in green on a fiel
of whitethe symbol to the world tha
here was a McKaye ship. And when th
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house-flag fluttered half-way to the dec
and climbed again to the masthead, th
soul of Hector McKaye would thrill.
"Guid lads! My bonny brave lads!" h
would murmur aloud, with just a touch o
his parents' accent, and press a butto
which discharged an ancient brass cannomounted at the edge of the cliff. Wheneve
he saw one of his ships in the offingan
he could identify his ships as far as h
could see themhe ordered the gardeneo load this cannon.
Presently the masters began to dip th
house-flag when outward bound, andiscovered that, whether The Laird sat a
his desk in the mill office or watched fro
he cliff, they drew an answering salute.
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This was their hail and farewell.
One morning, the barkentine Hathor
owing out for Delagoa Bay, dipped hehouse-flag, and the watch at their station
bent their gaze upon the house on the cliff
Long they waited but no answering salut
greeted the acknowledgment of theiaffectionate and willing service.
The mate's glance met the master's.
"The old laird must be unwell, sir," h
opined.
But the master shook his head.
"He was to have had dinner aboard wit
us last night, but early in the afternoon h
sent over word that he'd like to b
excused. He's sick at heart, poor man
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Daney tells me he's heard the town gossi
about young Donald."
"The lad's a gentleman, sir," the matdefended. "He'll not disgrace his people."
"He's youngand youth must be served
Man, I was young myself onceand Na
of the Sawdust Pile is not a woman
young man would look at once and go hi
way."
In the southwestern corner of the state o
Washington, nestled in the Bight of Tyee
and straddling the Skookum River, lies thittle sawmill town of Port Agnew. It is a
community somewhat difficult to locate
for the Bight of Tyee is not of sufficien
mportance as a harbor to have wo
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consideration by the cartographers of th
Coast and Geodetic Survey, and Por
Agnew is not quite forty years old
Consequently, it appears only on the veratest state maps and in the smalles
possible type.
When Hector McKaye first gazed upohe bight, the transcontinental lines had no
yet begun to consider the thrusting of thei
entacles into southwestern Washington
and, with the exception of those regionwhere good harbors had partially solve
he problem of transportation, timber i
Washington was very cheap
Consequently, since Hector McKaye waone of those hardy men who never hesitat
o take that which no man denies them, h
reached forth and acquired timber.
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A strip of land a quarter of a mile wid
and fronting the beach was barren o
commercial timber. As grazing-land
Hector McKaye was enabled to file on full section of this, and, with it
acquisition, he owned the key to the outlet
While "proving up" his claim, he operate
a general store for trading with the Indianand trappers, and at this he prospered
From time to time he purchased timber
claims from the trappers as fast as the
"proved up," paying for these stumpage
prices varying from twenty-five to fift
cents per thousand.
On his frequent trips to the outer worldMcKaye extolled the opportunities fo
acquiring good timber-claims down on th
Skookum; he advertised them in letter
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and in discreet interviews with the editor
of little newspapers in the sawmill town
on Puget Sound and Grays Harhor; he let i
be known that an honest fellow coulsecure credit for a winter's provision
from him, and pay for it with pelts in th
spring.
The influx of homesteaders increased
single men, for the most part, and poor
men who labored six months of the yea
elsewhere and lived the remaining simonths in rude log huts on their claim
down on the Skookum. And when th
requirements of the homestead laws ha
been complied with and a patent to theiquarter-section obtained from the Lan
Office in Washington, the homesteader
were ready to sell and move on to othe
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and greener pastures. So they sold to th
only possible purchaser, Hector McKaye
and departed, quite satisfied with a profi
which they flattered themselves had beehe result of their own prudence an
foresight.
Thus, in the course of ten years, HectoMcKaye' acquired ten thousand acres o
splendid Douglas fir and white cedar. Bu
he had not been successful in acquirin
claims along the south bank of thSkookum. For some mysterious reason, h
soon found claims on the north ban
cheaper and easier to secure, albeit th
imber showed no variance in quantity oquality. Discreet investigations brought to
ight the fact that he had a competitor
one Martin Darrow, who dwelt in St
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ncorporated the Tyee Lumber Company
and founded his town of Port Agnew
before Darrow began operations.
True to his promise, McKaye deeded
him a mill-and town-site, and he founde
a settlement on the eastern edge of Por
Agnew, but quite distinct from it, andcalled it Darrow, after himself. It was no
a community that Hector McKay
approved of, for it was squalid an
unsanitary, and its untidy, unpaintedshacks of rough lumber harbored souther
European labor, of which Hector McKay
would have none. In Darrow, also, ther
were three groggeries and a gamblinghouse, with the usual concomitant o
women whose profession is the oldest an
he saddest in the world.
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Following his discovery of the Bight o
Tyee, a quarter of a century passed. A ma
may prosper much in twenty-five years
and Hector McKaye, albeit Americaborn, was bred of an acquisitive race
When his Gethsemane came upon him, h
was rated the richest lumberman in th
state of Washington; his twenty-thousandboard-feet capacity per day sawmill ha
grown to five hundred thousand, his te
housand acres to a hundred thousand
Two thousand persons looked to him and
his enterprise for their bread and butter
he owned a fleet of half a dozen steam
schooners and sixteen big wind-jammershe owned a town which he had called Por
Agnew, and he had married and bee
blessed with children. And because hi
ambition no longer demanded it, he wa
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HECTOR MCKAYE WAS
BRED OF AN
ACQUISITIVE RACE.
In a word, he was a happy man, and i
affectionate pride and as a tribute to hi
might, his name and an occasional forgetme-not of speech which clung to hi
ongue, heritage of his Scotch forebears
his people called him "The Laird o
Tyee." Singularly enough, his characte
fitted this cognomen rather wel
Reserved, proud, independent, an
sensitive, thinking straight and talkinstraight, a man of brusque yet tende
sentiment which was wont to manifes
tself unexpectedly, it had been said o
him that in a company of a hundred of hi
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mental, physical, and financial peers, h
would have stood forth preeminently an
distinctively, like a lone tree on a hill.
Although The Laird loved his town o
Port Agnew, because he had created it, he
had not, nevertheless, resided in it fo
some years prior to the period at whichis chronicle begins. At the very apex o
he headland that shelters the Bight o
Tyee, in a cuplike depression severa
acres in extent, on the northern side andeally situated two hundred feet below
he crest, thus permitting the howlin
southeasters to blow over it, Hecto
McKaye, in the fulness of time, had builfor himself a not very large two-stor
house of white stone native to the locality
This house, in the center of beautiful an
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This room Hector McKaye enjoyed bes
of all things in life, with the exception o
his family; of his family, his son Donald
was nearest and dearest to him. This bohe loved with a fierce and hungry love
ntensified, doubtless, because to th
young Laird of Tyee, McKaye was stil
he greatest hero in the world. To his wifeThe Laird was no longer a hero, althoug
n the old days of the upward climb, whe
he had fiercely claimed her and supporte
her by the sweat of his brow, he had been
something akin to a god. As for Elizabeth
and Jane, his daughters, it must b
recorded that both these young women haong since ceased to regard their father a
anything except an unfailing source o
revenuean old dear who clung to Por
Agnew, homely speech, and homely ways
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gratified it once worked hard with hi
hands, spoke the language and acquire
he habits of his comrades in the battle fo
existence.
Of course, Elizabeth and Jane woul
have resented this analysis of their menta
attitude toward their father. Be that as imay, however, the fact remained that both
girls were perfunctory in their expression
of affection for their father, but wildl
extravagant in them where their mothewas concerned. Hector McKaye liked i
so. He was a man who never thought abou
himself, and he had discovered that if h
gave his wife and daughters everythinhey desired, he was not apt to be nagged.
Only on one occasion had Hecto
McKaye declared himself master in hi
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suburb of Seattle. Elizabeth and Jan
aided and abetted her in clamoring for
Seattle home, although both were quick t
note the advantages of a picturesqucountry home on the cliffs above the bight
They urged their father to build his house
but condemned his plans. They desired
house some three times larger than thblue-prints called for.
Hector McKaye said nothing. Th
women chattered and argued amonhemselves until, Elizabeth and Jan
having vanquished their mother, all thre
moved briskly to the attack upon Th
Laird. When they had talked themselveout and awaited a reply, he gave it with
he simple directness of his nature. It wa
evident that he had given his answe
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hought.
"I can never live in Seattle until I retire
and I cannot retire until Donald takes mplace in the business. That means tha
Donald must live here. Consequently,
shall spend half of my time with you an
he girls in Seattle, mother, and the othehalf with Donald here. When we built ou
first home, you had your wayand I'v
ived in this architectural horror eve
since. This time, I'm going to have my owwayand you've lived with me lon
enough to know that when I declare for
will of my own, I'll not be denied. Well
realize you and the girls have outgrowPort Agnew. There's naught here to
nterest you, and I would not have woma
o' mine unhappy. So plan your house in
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disposed of, and since it was not possibl
o burn this in the slab fire for the reaso
hat the wet sawdust blanketed the flame
and resulted in a profusion of smoke thablew back upon the mill to the annoyanc
of the employees, for many years Th
Laird had caused this accumulate
sawdust to be hauled to the edge of thbight on the north side of the town, an
here dumped in a low, marshy spot whic
formerly had bred millions of mosquitoes
Subsequently, in the process of gradin
he streets of Port Agnew and excavatin
cellars, waste dirt had been dumped wit
he sawdust, and, occasionally, when higwinter tides swept over the spot, sand
small stones, sea-shells, and kelp wer
added to the mixture. And as if this wer
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not sufficient, the citizens of Port Agnew
contributed from time to time old barrel
and bottles, yard-sweepings, tin cans, an
superannuated stoves and kitchen utensils
Slowly this dump crept out on the beach
and in order to prevent the continuou
attrition of the surf upon the outer edge ot from befouling the white-sand bathing
beach farther up the Bight of Tyee, The
Laird had driven a double row of fi
piling parallel with and beyond the line obreakers. This piling, driven as clos
ogether as possible and reenforced wit
wo-inch planking between, formed
bulkhead with the flanks curving in to thbeach, thus insuring practically a water
ight pen some two acres in extent; and
with the passage of years, this becam
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from filling, he had the pipes from th
dredger run out to the Sawdust Pile an
covered the unsightly spot with six feet o
rich river-silt up to the level of the piling.
"And now," said Hector McKaye to
Andrew Daney, his general manager
"when that settles, we'll run a light tracout here and use the Sawdust Pile for
drying-yard."
The silt settled and dried, and almosmmediately thereafter a squatter too
possession of the Sawdust Pile. Acros
he neck of the little promontory, and i
ine with extreme high-water mark on eacside, he erected a driftwood fence; he ha
a canvas, driftwood, and corrugated-iro
shanty well under way when Hecto
McKaye appeared on the scene and bad
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him a pleasant good-morning.
The squatter turned from his labor an
bent upon his visitor an appraising glanceHis scrutiny appearing to satisfy him as t
he identity of the latter, he straightened
suddenly and touched his forelock in
queer little salute that left one in doubwhether he was a former member of th
United States navy or the Britis
mercantile marine. He was a threadbar
ittle man, possibly sixty years old, with russet, kindly countenance and mild blu
eyes; apart from his salute, there wa
about him an intangible hint of the sea. H
was being assisted in his labors by ragamuffin girl of perhaps thirteen years.
"Thinking of settling in Port Agnew?
The Laird inquired.
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The ragamuffin girl, her head slightly t
one side, had been regarding Hecto
McKaye with alert curiosity mingled wit
furtive apprehension. As he glanced at henow, she remembered her manners and
dropped him a courtesyan electric, half
defiant jerk that reminded The Laird of
similar greeting customarily extended bsquinch-owls.
Nan was not particularly clean, and he
one-piece dress, of heavy blue navyuniform cloth was old and worn an
spotted. Over this dress she wore a boy'
coarse red-worsted sweater with white
pearl buttons. The skin of her thin necwas fine and creamy; the calves, of he
bare brown legs were shapely, her fee
small, her ankles dainty.
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"No; my daughter, sir. I was forty when
married, and Nan came ten years later
She's thirteen now, and her mother's been
dead ten years."
Hector McKaye had an idea that th
departed mother was probably just a
well, if not better, off, free of the battle foexistence which appeared to confront thi
futile old man and his elf of a daughter. H
glanced at the embryo shack unde
construction and, comparing it with hiown beautiful home on Tyee Head, he
urned toward the bight. A short distance
off the bulkhead, he observed a staunc
forty-foot motor-cruiser at anchor. Shwould have been the better for a coat o
paint; undeniably she was of a piece wit
Caleb Brent and Nan, for, like them, Th
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service, sirand I was in the mercantil
marine at sixteen. I've served my time as
shipwright. Amam I intruding here
sir?"
The Laird smiled, and followed th
smile with a brief chuckle.
"Wellyes and no. I haven't any title to
his land you've elected to occupy
although I created it. You see, I'm sort o
ord of creation around here. My peoplcall me 'The Laird of Tyee,' and nobody
but a stranger would have had the courag
o squat on the Sawdust Pile withou
consulting me. What's your idea about itBrent?"
"I'll go if you want me to, sir."
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"I mean what's your idea if you stay
What do you expect to do for a living?"
"You will observe, sir, that I havefenced off only that portion of the dump
beyond high-water mark. That takes i
about half of itabout an acre and a half
Well, I thought I'd keep some chickens andraise some garden truck. This silt wil
grow anything. And I have my launch, and
can do some towing, maybe, or tak
fishing parties out. I might supply the towwith fish. I understand you import you
fish from Seattleand with the sea righ
here at your door."
"I see. And you have your three-quarter
pay as a retired chief petty officer?"
"Yes, sir."
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"Anything in bank? I do not ask thes
personal questions, Brent, out of mere idl
curiosity. This is my town, you know, and
here is no poverty in it. I'm rather prouof that, so I"
"I understand, sir. That's why I came to
Port Agnew. I saw your son yesterdayand he said I could stay."
"Oh! Well, that's all right, then. I
Donald told you to stay, stay you shallDid he give you the Sawdust Pile?"
"Yes, sir; he did!"
"Well, I had other plans for it, Brent; busince you're here, I'll offer no objection."
Nan now piped up.
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"We haven't any money in bank, Mr
Laird, but we have some saved up."
"Indeed! That's encouraging. Where dyou keep it?"
"In the brown teapot in the galley. We'v
got a hundred and ten dollars."
"Well, my little lady, I think you migh
do well to take your hundred and te
dollars out of the brown teapot in th
galley and deposit it in the Port Agnew
bank. Suppose that motor-cruiser shoul
spring a leak and sink?"
Nan smiled and shook her golden hean negation. They had beaten round Cap
Flattery in that boat, and she ha
confidence in it.
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"Would you know my boy if you should
see him again, Nan?" The Laird demande
suddenly.
"Oh, yes, indeed, sir! He's such a nic
boy."
"I think, Nan, that if you asked him, h
might help your father build this house."
"I'll see him this afternoon when h
comes out of high school," Nan declared.
"You might call on Andrew Daney, my
general manager," The Laird continued
urning to Caleb Brent, "and make a dicke
with him for hauling our garbage-scow ouo sea and dumping it. I observe that you
motor-boat is fitted with towing-bitts. We
dump twice a week. And you may have
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monopoly on fresh fish if you desire it
We have no fishermen here, because I do
not care for Greeks and Sicilians in Por
Agnew. And they're about the onlyfishermen on this coast."
"Thank you, Mr. McKaye."
"Mind you don't abuse your monopoly. I
you do, I'll take it away from you."
"You are very kind, sir. And I can have
he Sawdust Pile, sir?"
"Yes; since Donald gave it to you
However, I wish you'd tear down tha
patchwork fence and replace it with decent job the instant you can afford it."
"Ah, just wait," old Brent promised. "
know how to make things neat and prett
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and keep them shipshape. You just keep
your eye on the Sawdust Pile, sir." Th
old wind-bitten face flushed with pride
he faded sea-blue eyes shone with joyouanticipation. "I've observed your pride i
your town, sir, and before I get through
'll have a prettier place than the best o
hem."
A few days later, The Laird looked
across the Bight of Tyee from his home on
Tyee Head, and through his marine glassestudied the Sawdust Pile. He chuckled a
he observed that the ramshackle shant
had disappeared almost as soon as it ha
been started and in its place a smalcottage was being erected. There was
pile of lumber in the yardbright lumber
fresh from the sawsand old Caleb Bren
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and the motherless Nan were bein
assisted by two carpenters on the Tyee
Lumber Company's pay-roll.
When Donald came home from schoo
hat night, The Laird asked him about th
nhabitants of the Sawdust Pile wit
relation to the lumber and the twcarpenters.
"Oh, I made a trade with Mr. Brent and
an. I'm to furnish the lumber anfurniture for the house, and those tw
carpenters weren't very busy, so Mr
Daney told me I could have them to help
out. In return, Mr. Brent is going to buildme a sloop and teach me how to sail it."
The Laird nodded.
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"When his little home is completed
Donald," he suggested presently, "yo
might take old Brent and his girl over t
our old house in town and let them havwhat furniture they require. See if yo
cannot manage to saw off some of you
mother's antiques on them," adde
whimsically. "By the way, what kind oshanty is old Brent going to build?"
"A square house with five rooms and
cupola fitted up like a pilot-house. There'o be a flagpole on the cupola, and Na
says they'll have colors every night an
morning. That means that you hoist the fla
n the morning and salute it, and when yohaul it down at night, you salute it again
They do that up at the Bremerton navy
yard."
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"That's rather a nice, sentimental idea,
Hector McKaye replied. "I rather like ol
Brent and his girl for that. We American
are too prone to take our flag and what istands for rather lightly."
"Nan wants me to have colors up here
oo," Donald continued. "Then she can seour flag, and we can see theirs across th
bight."
"All right," The Laird answereheartily, for he was always profoundl
nterested in anything that interested hi
boy. "I'll have the woods boss get out
nice young cedar with, say, a twelve-incbutt, and we'll make it into a flagpole."
"If we're going to do the job navy
fashion, we ought to fire a sunrise an
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sunset gun," Donald suggested with all th
enthusiasm of his sixteen years.
"Well, I think we can afford that, tooDonald."
Thus it came about that the little bras
cannon was installed on its concrete bas
on the cliff. And when the flagpole had
been erected, old Caleb Brent came u
one day, built a little mound of smooth
sea-washed cobblestones round the baseand whitewashed them. Evidently he wa
a prideful little man, and liked to se
hings done in a seamanlike manner. And
presently it became a habit with The Lairo watch night and morning, for the littl
pin-prick of color to flutter forth from th
house on the Sawdust Pile, and if his ow
colors did not break forth on the instan
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and the little cannon boom from the cliff
he was annoyed and demanded a
explanation.
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III
Hector McKaye and his close-mouthe
general manager, Andrew Daney, were thonly persons who knew the extent of Th
Laird's fortune. Even their knowledge wa
approximate, however, for The Laird
disliked to delude himself, and carried o
his books at their cost-price propertie
which had appreciated tremendously i
value since their purchase. The knowledg
of his wealth brought to McKaye a goodl
measure of happinessnot because h
was of Scottish ancestry and had inherite
a love for his baubees, but because he wa
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descended from a fierce, proud Scottis
clan and wealth spelled independence t
him and his.
The Laird would have filled his cup o
happiness to overflowing had he marrie
a less mediocre woman or had he raise
his daughters as he had his son. The girlsupbringing had been left entirely in thei
mother's hands. Not so with youn
Donald, howeverwherefore it was
byword in Port Agnew that Donald wahis father's son, a veritable chip of the ol
block.
By some uncanny alchemy, hard casappears to soften the heads and relax th
muscles of rich men's sonsat least, suc
had been old Hector's observation, and o
he instant that he first gazed upon the fac
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of his son, there had been born in him
mighty resolve that, come what might, h
would not have it said of him that he ha
made a fool of his boy. And throughout theglad years of his fatherhood, with the ster
piety of his race and his faith, he had knel
night and morning beside his bed an
prayed his God to help him not to make fool of Donaldto keep Donald fro
making a fool of himself.
When Donald entered Princeton, hifather decided upon an experiment. H
had raised his boy right, and trained hi
for the race of life, and now The Laird fel
hat, like a thoroughbred horse, his sofaced the barrier. Would he make the run
or would he, in the parlance of th
sporting world, "dog it?" Would his fou
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years at a great American university mak
of him a better man, or would h
degenerate into a snob and a drone?
With characteristic courage, The Laird
decided to give him ample opportunity t
become either, for, as old Hecto
remarked to Andrew Daney: "If the lad'he McKaye I think he is, nothing can har
him. On the other hand, if I'm mistaken,
want to know it in time, for my money an
my Port Agnew Lumber Company is rust, and if he can't handle it, I'll leave i
o the men who canwho've helped m
create itand Donald shall earn his brea
by the sweat of his brow. Tools," headded, "belong to the men that can us
hem."
When Donald started East for college
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old Hector accompanied him as far a
Seattle. On the way up, there was som
man-talk between them. In his youth, ol
Hector had not been an angel, which is tstate that he had been a lumberjack. H
knew men and the passions that beset the
particularly when they are young an
ustyand he was far from being a prudeHe expected his son to raise a certai
amount of wild oats; nay, he desired it, fo
full well he knew that when the fires o
youth are quenched, they are liable to flar
disgracefully in middle life or old age.
"Never pig it, my son," was his fina
admonition. "Raise hell if you must, but iyou love your old father, be a gentleman
about it. You've sprung from a clan o
men, not mollycoddles."
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"Hence the expression: 'When Hecto
was a pup,'" Donald replied laughingly
"Well, I'll do my best, fatheronly, if
stub my toe, you mustn't be too hard ome. Remember, please, that I'm only hal
Scotch."
At parting, The Laird handed his son check for twenty-five thousand dollars.
"This is the first year's allowance
Donald," he informed the boy gravely. "Ishould not require more than a hundre
housand dollars to educate a son of mine
and you must finish in four years. I woul
not care to think you dull or lazy."
"Do you wish an accounting, father?"
The Laird shook his head.
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"Keeping books was ever a sorry trade
my son. I'll read the accounting in your ey
when you come back to Port Agnew."
"Oh!" said young Donald.
At the end of four years, Donal
graduated, an honor-man in all his studies
and in the lobby of the gymnasium, wher
he athletic heroes of Princeton leave thei
record to posterity, Hector McKaye read
his son's name, for, of course, he wahere for commencement. Then they spen
a week together in New York, following
which old Hector announced that on
week of New York was about all he couldstand. The tall timber was calling for him
"Hoot, mon!" Donald protested gaily
He was a perfect mimic of Sir Harr
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Lauder at his broadest. "Y'eve nae had
bit holiday in all yer life. Wha' spier ye
Hector McKaye, to a trip aroond th
worl', wi' a wee visit tae the auld clan ihe Hielands?"
"Will you come with me, son?" Th
Laird inquired eagerly.
"Certainly not! You shall come with me
This is to be my party."
"Can you stand the pressure? I'm liabl
o prove an expensive travelin
companion."
"Well, there's something radicallywrong with both of us if we can't get by o
wo hundred thousand dollars, dad."
The Laird started, and then his Scotc
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sense of humorand, for all the fame
wit of the Irish, no humor on earth is s
unctuous as that of the Scotch
commenced to bubble up. He suspected oke on himself and was prepared to mee
t.
"Will you demand an accounting, mson?"
Donald shook his head.
"Keeping books was ever a sorry trade
father, I'll read the accounting in your ey
when you get back to Port Agnew."
"You braw big scoundrel! You've beenup to something. Tell it me, man, or I'll di
wi' the suspense of it."
"Well," Donald replied, "I lived on
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wenty-five hundred a year in college an
ed a happy life. I had a heap of fun, an
nothing went by me so fast that I didn't a
east get a tail-feather. My collegeducation, therefore, cost me ten thousan
dollars, and I managed to squeeze
roadster automobile into that, also. Wit
he remaining ninety thousand, I took flier in thirty-nine hundred acres of re
cedar up the Wiskah River. I paid for it on
he instalment plan yearly payment
secured by first mortgage at six per cent
and"
"Who cruised it for you?" The Lair
almost shouted. "I'll trust no cruiser bumy own David McGregor."
"I realized that, so I engaged Dave fo
he job. You will recall that he and I took
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a two months' camping-trip after my firs
year in Princeton. It cruised eight
housand feet to the acre, and I paid tw
dollars and a half per thousand for it. Ocourse, we didn't succeed in cruising hal
of it, but we rode through the remainder
and it all averaged up very nicely. And
saw a former cruise of it made by disinterested cruiser"
The Laird had been doing menta
arithmetic.
"It cost you seven hundred and eight
housand dollarsand you've paid ninet
housand, principal and interest, oaccount. Why, you didn't have th
customary ten per cent, of the purchase
price as an initial payment!"
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"The owner was anxious to sel
Besides, he knew I was your son, and
suppose he concluded that, after gettin
ninety thousand dollars out of me at thend of three years, you'd have to come t
my rescue when the balance fell duein
ump. If you didn't, of course he coul
foreclose."
"I'll save you, my son. It was a goo
deala splendid deal!"
"You do not have to, dad. I've sold it
at a profit of an even two hundre
housand dollars!"
"Lad, why did you do it? Why didn't yo
ake me into your confidence? That ceda
s worth three and a half. In a few years
twill be worth five."
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"I realized that, father, buta bird in th
hand is worth two in the bushand I'm
proud sort of devil. I didn't want to run t
you for help on my first deal, even thougknew you'd come to my rescue and as
no questions. You've always told me to
beware of asking favors, you know
Moreover, I had a very friendly feelinoward the man I sold my red cedar to;
hated to stick him too deeply."
"You were entitled to your profitDonald. 'Twas business. You should have
aken it. Ah, lad, if you only knew th
errible four years I've paid for yon red
cedar!"
"You mean the suspense of not knowing
how I was spending my allowance?"
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The Laird nodded.
"Curiosity killed a cat, my son, and I'
not as young as I used to be.""I had thought you'd have read th
accounting in my eye. Take another look
Hector McKaye." And Donald thrust hi
smiling countenance close to his father's.
"I see naught in your eye but deviltry an
okes."
"None are so blind as they that will no
see. If you see a joke, dad, it's on you."
Old Hector blinked, then suddenly hsprang at his son, grasped him by th
shoulders, and backed him against th
wall.
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"Did you sell me that red cedar?" h
demanded incredulously.
"Aye, mon; through an agent," Donaldburred Scottishly. "A' did nae ha' the hear
ae stick my faither sae deep for a bi
skulin'. A'm a prood man, Hecto
McKaye; a'll nae take a grrand eeducashuat sic a price. 'Tis nae Christian."
"Ah, my bonny bairn!" old Hecto
murmured happily, and drew his fine soo his heart. "What a grand joke to play o
your puir old father! Och, mon, was ther
ever a lad like mine?"
"I knew you'd buy that timber for a
nvestment if I offered it cheap enough,
Donald explained. "Besides, I owed you
poke. You wanted to be certain you hadn'
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reared a jackass instead of a man, so yo
gave me a hundred thousand dollars an
stood by to see what I'd do with itdidn
you, old Scotty?" Hector nodded a triflguiltily. "Andrew Daney wrote me yo
swore by all your Highland clan that th
man who sold you that red cedar was rip
for the fool-killer."
"Tush, tush!" The Laird protested
"You're getting personal now. I dislike to
appear inquisitive, but might I ask whayou've done with your two hundre
housand profit?"
"Well, you see, dad, I would have felt arifle guilty had I kept it, so I blew it all i
on good, conservative United State
bonds, registered them in your name, an
sent them to Daney to hide in your vault a
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Port Agnew."
"Ah, well, red cedar or bonds, 'twill al
come back to you some day, sonny. Thereal profit's in the fun"
"And the knowledge that I'm not a foo
eh, father?"
Father love supernal gleamed in Th
Laird's fine gray eyes.
"Were you a fool, my son, and all that have in the world would cure you i
hrown into the Bight of Tyee, I'd gladly
hrow it and take up my life where I bega
twith pike-pole and peavy, doublebitted ax, and cross-cut saw. However
since you're not a fool, I intend to continu
o enjoy my son. We'll go around the
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world together."
Thus did the experiment end. At least
Donald thought so. But when he left thhotel a few minutes later to book tw
passages to Europe, The Laird of Tyee
suddenly remembered that thanks wer
due his Presbyterian God. So he slid to hiold knees beside his bed and murmured:
"Lord, I thank thee! For the sake of thin
own martyred Son, set angels to guard hiand lead him in the path of manly hono
hat comes at last to thy kingdom. Amen."
Then he wired Andrew Daney a lon
elegram of instructions and a stiff raise i
salary.
"The boy has a head like a tar-bucket,
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he concluded. "Everything I ever put int
t has stuck. We are going to frolic round
he world together, and we will be hom
when we get back."
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IV
Donald was twenty-four and The Lair
fifty-eight when the pair returned froheir frolic round the worldDonald t
ake up this father's labors, The Laird t
ay them aside and retire to Th
Dreamerie and the books he ha
accumulated against this happy afterglow
of a busy and fruitful life.
Donald's mother and sisters were at ThDreamerie the night the father and so
arrived. Of late years, they had spent les
and less of their time there. The Laird ha
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never protested, for he could not blam
hem for wearying of a little backwood
sawmill town like Port Agnew.
With his ability to think calmly, clearly
and unselfishly, he had long since realized
hat eventually his girls must marry; now
Elizabeth was twenty-six and Jane twentyeight, and Mrs. McKaye was beginning t
be greatly concerned for their future
Since The Laird had built The Dreameri
n opposition to their wishes, they haspent less than six months in each year a
Port Agnew. And these visits had been
scattered throughout the year. They had
raveled much, and, when not travelinghey lived in the Seattle house and wer
rather busy socially. Despite his devotio
o his business, however, The Laird found
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ime to spend at least one week in eac
month with them in Seattle, in addition t
he frequent business trips which took hi
here.
That night of his home-coming was th
happiest The Laird had ever known, for i
marked the culmination of his lifetime oabor and dreams. Long after his wife an
he girls had retired, he and Donald sat i
he comfortable living-room, smoking an
discussing plans for the future, untipresently, these matters having bee
discussed fully, there fell a silenc
between them, to be broken presently b
The Laird.
"I'm wondering, Donald, if you haven
met some bonny lass you'd like to brin
home to Port Agnew. You realize, of
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course, that there's room on Tyee Head fo
another Dreamerie, although I built thi
one for youand her."
"There'll be no other house on Tyee
Head, father," Donald answered, "unles
you care to build one for mother and th
girls. The wife that I'll bring home to PorAgnew will not object to my father in m
house." He smiled and added, "You're no
at all hard to get along with, you know."
The Laird's eyes glistened.
"Have you found her yet, my son?"
Donald shook his head in negation.
"Then look for her," old Hector ordered
"I have no doubt that, when you find her
she'll be worthy of you. I'm at an age now
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when a man looks no longer into the futur
but dwells in the past, and it's hard for m
o think of you, big man that you are, a
anything save a wee laddie trotting at mside. Now, if I had a grandson"
When, presently, Donald bade hi
good-night, Hector McKaye turned off thights and sat in the dark, gazing dow
across the moonlit Bight of Tyee to the
sparks that flew upward from the stacks o
his sawmill in Port Agnew, for they wererunning a night shift. And, as he gazed, h
hrilled, with a fierce pride and a joy tha
was almost pain, in the knowledge that h
had reared a merchant prince for this, hiprincipality of Tyee.
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V
Hector McKaye had always leane
oward the notion that he could run PorAgnew better than a mayor and a tow
council, in addition to deriving some fu
out of it; consequently, Port Agnew had
never been incorporated. And this was a
ssue it was not deemed wise to press, fo
The Tyee Lumber Company owned every
house and lot in town, and Hecto
McKaye owned every share of stock in th
Tyee Lumber Company.
If he was a sort of feudal baron, he wa
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a gentle and kindly one; large building
plots, pretty little bungalows, cheap
rentals, and no taxation constituted
social condition that few desired tchange. As these few developed and Th
Laird discovered them, their positions i
his employ, were forfeited, their rent
raised, or their leases canceled, anpresently Port Agnew knew them no more
He paid fair wages, worked his men nin
hours, and employed none but naturalize
Americans, with a noticeable predilectio
for those of Scotch nativity or ancestry.
Strikes or lockouts were unknown i
Port Agnewlikewise saloons. Unlikmost sawmill towns of that period, Por
Agnew had no street in which childre
were forbidden to play or which mother
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aught their daughters to avoid. Once a
.W.W. organizer came to town, and upon
being ordered out and refusing to go, Th
Laird, then past fifty, had ducked him ihe Skookum until he changed his mind.
The Tyee Lumber Company owned and
operated the local telephone company, thbutcher shop, the general store, the hotel,
motion-picture theater, a town hall, th
bank, and the electric-light-and-powe
plant, and with the profits from thesenterprises, Port Agnew had paved
streets, sidewalks lined with handsom
electroliers, and a sewer system. It was a
admirable little sawmill town, and if thexpenses of maintaining it exceeded th
ncome, The Laird met the deficit an
assumed all the worry, for he wanted hi
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people to be happy and prosperou
beyond all others.
It pleased Hector McKaye to make aoccasion of his abdication and Donald'
accession to the presidency of the Tyee
Lumber Company. The Dreamerie was no
sufficiently large for his purposehowever, for he planned to entertain all o
his subjects at a dinner and make forma
announcement of the change. So he gave
barbecue in a grove of maples on the edgof the town. His people received i
silence the little speech he made them, fo
hey were loath to lose The Laird. The
knew him, while Donald they had noknown for five years, and there were man
who feared that the East might hav
changed him. Consequently, when hi
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father called him up to the little platfor
from which he spoke, they received th
young laird in silence also.
"Folksmy own home folks," Donal
began, "to-day I formally take up the tas
hat was ordained for me at birth. I a
going to be very happy doing for you anfor myself. I shall never be the man m
father is; but if you will take me to you
hearts and trust me as you have truste
him, I'll never go back on you, for I expeco live and to die in Port Agnew, and
while I live, I want to be happy with you.
would have you say of me, when I a
gone, that I was the worthy son of worthy sire." He paused and looked ou
over the eager, upturned faces of the men
women, and children whose destinies h
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held in the hollow of his hand. "My dea
friends, there aren't going to be an
changes," he finished, and stepped dow
off the platform.
From the heart of the crowd
umberjack cried, "Ya-hoo-o-o-o-o!" a
only a lusty lumberjack can cry it. "He's chip of the old block!" cried another, and
here were cheers and some tears and
general rush forward to greet the new
master, to shake his hand, and pledgallegiance to him.
When the reception was over, old
Hector took charge of the homely gameand athletic contests, and the day'
delights culminated in a log-burlin
contest in the Skookum, in which th
young laird participated. When
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eventually, he fell in the river and wa
counted out, old Hector donned his son'
calked boots and, with a whoop such as h
had not emitted in forty years, entered thists against the young fellows. In the ol
days in the Michigan woods, when burlin
was considered a magnificent art of th
umberjack, he had been a champion, anfor five minutes he spun his log until th
water foamed, crossing and recrossing th
river and winning the contest unanimously
From the bank, Mrs. McKaye and hi
daughters watched him with well-bre
amusement and secret disapproval. The
could never forget, as he could, that hwas The Laird of Tyee; they preferred
more dignity in the head of the house.
The McKaye family drove home alon
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he cliff road at sunset. Young Donald
paused on the terrace before entering th
house, and, stirred by some half-forgotte
memory, he glanced across the bight to thittle white house far below on th
Sawdust Pile. The flag was floating fro
he cupola, but even as he looked, it cam
fluttering down.
Donald turned toward the McKaye flag
t was still floating. "The old orde
changeth," he soliloquized, and hauled idown, at the same time shouting to hi
father within the house:
"Hey, dad; fire the sunset gun!"
The Laird pressed the button and th
cannon boomed.
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"We've neglected that little ceremony
since you've been away," he remarked, a
Donald entered the room. "'Other times
other customs,' I dare say."
He hurried up-stairs to dress for dinne
a formality which he disliked, but whic
appeared to please his wife andaughters), and Donald took his father'
binoculars and went out on the terrace. I
had occurred to him that he had not see
old Caleb Brent and Nan at the barbecueand he wondered why. Through th
glasses, he could make out the figure of
woman in the cupola window, and sh
was watching him through a long marinelescope.
"There's my old friend Nan, grown t
womanhood," Donald soliloquized, an
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waved his arm at her. Through the glasses
he saw her wave back at him.
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VI
The morning after the barbecue, Donal
McKaye reported at eight o'clock to hifather's faithful old general manager
Andrew Daney. Daney had grown gray i
his father's service, and it was no part o
Donald's plans to assign him to a bac
seat.
"Well, Mr. Daney," he inquired affably
"what are your plans for the new hireman?"
Old Daney looked up quizzically.
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"You do the planning here, Don," he
replied.
"You heard me say yesterday that therewould be no changes, Mr. Daney. O
course, I haven't grown up in Port Agnew
without learning something of my heritage
but, in view of the fact that I still havconsiderable to learn, suppose yo
ndicate just where I ought to start."
Daney was pleased at a deference hhad not anticipated.
"Start in the woods," he replied. "That'
where your daddy started. Felling timbe
and handling it is rather a fine art, Don. I'
wrestle logs for a month and follow the
down the Skookum to the log boom. The
'd put in six months in the mill and si
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more in the factory, following it with thre
months on the dock, tallying, and thre
months of a hand-shaking tour out amon
he trade. After that, you may sit in at youfather's desk, and I'll gradually break yo
n to his job."
"That's a grand idea, and I'll act on it,Donald declared.
"Well, it's too late to act on it to-day
Don. The up-river launch to the loggingcamp left at seven o'clock. However,
have a job for you. We really need the
Sawdust Pile for an extension of ou
drying-yard. Our present yard lies righunder the lee of that ridge of which Tyee
Head is an extension, and it's practicall
noon before the sun gets a fair chance at it
The Sawdust Pile gets the sun all da
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ong, and the winds have an uninterrupte
sweep across it. We can dry our ceda
decking there in half the time it require
now."
"But the Sawdust Pile is"
"A rat's nest, Don. There are a numbe
of other shacks there nowsome Gree
fishermen, a negro, and a couple o
women from the overflow of Tyee. I
ought to be cleaned out."
"I noticed those shacks last night, Mr
Daney, and I agree with you that the
should go. But I haven't the heart to ru
old Caleb Brent off the Sawdust Pile.
gave it to him, you know."
"Well, let Brent stay there. He's too old
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Donald reached for his hat.
"Caleb Brent's squatter-right to tha
Sawdust Pile is going to be upheld," hdeclared. "I'll clean that colony out befor
sunset, or they'll clean me."
"I'd proceed cautiously if I were you
Don. They have a host of friends up i
Darrow, and we mustn't precipitate
feud."
"I'm going over now and serve notice o
hem to vacate immediately." He grinned
at old Daney. "A negro, a handful o
Greeks, and those unfortunate women can
bluff the boss of Port Agnew, Mr. Daney.
"They tell me there's a blind pig dow
here, also."
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"It will not be there after to-day,
Donald answered lightly, and departed fo
he Sawdust Pile.
As he came up to the gate in the nea
fence Caleb Brent had built across th
Sawdust Pile nine years before, a bab
boy, of perhaps three years of age, rosout of the weeds in which he had bee
playing and regarded the visito
expectantly.
"Hello, bub!" the young laird of Tyee
greeted the child.
"Hello!" came the piping answer. "Ar
you my daddy?"
"Why, no, Snickelfritz." He ran hi
fingers through the tot's golden hair. "Don
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"And who might mother be?"
"Nan Brent."
"Yo-ho! So you're Nan Brent's boyWhat's your name?"
"Donald Brent."
"No; that isn't it, son. Brent is you
mother's name. Tell me your father'
name."
"Ain't got no farver."
"Well then, run along to your mother."
He kissed the child and set him dowust as a young woman came down th
sadly neglected shell walk from Caleb
Brent's little white house. Donald opene
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he gate and advanced to meet her.
"I'm sure you must be Nan," he said
"although I can't be certain. I haven't seean in six years."
She extended her hand
"Yes; I'm Nan," she replied, "and you'reDonald McKaye. You're a man now, bu
somehow you haven't changed greatly."
"It's fine to meet you again, Nan." Hshook her hand enthusiastically.
She smiled a little sadly.
"I saw you at colors last night, Donald
When your flag came down and the gu
was fired, I knew you'd remembered."
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He made no effort to formulate a
answer to this. Truth does not require an
answer. Yet he was sensible of a distinc
feeling of sympathy for her, and, manlikehe decided to change the topic o
conversation.
"You have neighbors on the SawdusPile, Nan."
"Yes. They came when The Laird was i
Europe."
"They would never have dared it had h
been in Port Agnew. I'm surprised tha
Andrew Daney permitted it. I had though
of him as a man of courage, but, strange t
say, these people outgamed him."
"They didn't outgame him, Donald. H
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machine agent instead of a very old friend
mayconclude to take offense and regre
hat I called."
"Oh, I'm sorry! Please forgive me
Donald. I'm so much aloneso ver
onelyI suppose I grow suspicious o
people and their motives."
"Say no more about it, Nan. May I com
n, then, to greet Caleb and you
husband?"
"Father is in the house. I'll call him out
Donald. As for my husband" Sh
hesitated, glanced out across the bight, an
hen resolutely faced him. "You canno
have heard all of the town gossip, then?"
"I hadn't even heard of your marriage
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ittle man starts life under a handicap, bu
'll see to it that he gets his chance in lif
far from Port Agnew, if you desire.
She closed her eyes in sudden pain andid not answer. "And whatever you
opinion on the matter may be, Nan," h
went on, "even had I known yesterday o
your sorrow, I should have called to-daust the same."
"You call it my 'sorrow!'" she burst fort
passionately. "Others call it my troublemy sinmy disgrace."
"And what does Caleb call it, Nan?"
"He doesn't call it, Donald. It hasn
appeared to make any difference with him
'm stillhis little girl."
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undisputed possession again."
He shook hands with old Caleb and sa
down in a chair which Nan drew up fohim.
"It's good of you to call, Mr. Donald,
he old man piped. "But isn't that just lik
him, Nan?" he demanded. "Many's the da
aye, and the night, too, for of late th
nights have been bad herewe've though
of you, sir, and wished you were back inPort Agnew. We knew what would
happen to those scoundrels when Mr
Donald got around to it." And he laughed
he asthmatic, contented chuckle of thaged as Nan related briefly the story o
Donald's recent activities.
Their conversation which followed wa
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"I'm glad of that. By the way, who i
owing the garbage-barge to se
nowadays?"
"I don't know, sir. Mr. Daney hired
somebody else and his boat when I had t
quit because of my sciatica."
"Hereafter, we'll use your boat, Caleb
and engage a man to operate it. The renta
will be ten dollars per trip, two trips
week, eighty dollars a month. Cheaenough; so don't think it's charity. Here'
he first month's rental in advance. I'
going to run along now, Caleb, but I'l
ook in from time to time, and if yoshould need me in the interim, send fo
me."
He kissed little Don Brent, who set up
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prodigious shriek at the prospect o
desertion and brought his mother flutterin
nto the room. He watched her soothe th
youngster and then asked:
"Nan, where do you keep the arnic
now? I cut my knuckles on that yellow
rascal."
She raised a sadly smiling face to his.
"Where would the arnica beif we ha
any, Donald?" she demanded.
"Where it used to be, I suppose. Up o
hat shelf, inside the basement of that funn
old half-portion grandfather's clock anust out of reach of the pendulum."
"You do remember, don't you? But it'
all gone so many years ago, Donald. We
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He looked at her with sudden, new
nterest. Her action had almost startle
him. As their eyes held each other, he wa
aware, with a force that was almost shock, that Nan Brent was a most unusua
woman. She was beautiful; yet he
physical beauty formed the least part o
her attractiveness, perfect as that beautwas. Instinctively, Donald visualized he
as a woman with brains, character
nobility of soul; there was that in her eyes
n the honesty and understanding wit
which they looked into his, that compelle
him, in that instant, to accept withou
reservation and for all time the lame anhalting explanation of her predicament h
had recently heard from her father's lips
He longed to tell her so. Instead, h
flushed boyishly and said, quit
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"Still the same old primitive pal," sh
murmured softly; "still thinking straight
alking straight, acting straight, anddar
say it, Donald?seeing straight. repeat, you always were the sweetest bo
n the worldand there is still so much o
he little boy about you." Her han
fluttered up and rested lightly on his arm"I'll not forget this day, my dear friend."
It was characteristic of him that, havin
said that which was uppermost in himind, he should remember his manner
and thank her for dressing his knuckles
Then he extended his hand in farewell.
"When you come again, Donald," sh
pleaded, as he took her hand, "will yo
please bring me some books? They're al
hat can keep me saneand I do not go t
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Donald protested.
"Indeed they are, Donald! Hector, you
amaze me," Mrs. McKaye chided."They have too much money to b
anything else," Donald added, and winke
at his father.
"Tush, tush, lad!" the old man murmured
"We shall get nowhere with such
arguments. The world has been at that lin
of conversation for two thousand years
and the issue's still in doubt. Nellie, wil
you have a piece of the well-done?"
"You and your father are never doneoining forces against me," Mrs. McKay
protested, and in her voice was the well
known note that presaged tears should sh
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slandered."
"Oh, indeed!" Jane considered thi
humorous, and indulged herself in cynical laugh.
"Friend of his?" Elizabeth, who wa
regarded in her set as a wit, a reputatio
acquired by reason of the fact that sh
possessed a certain knack for adaptin
slang humorously (for there was n
originality to her alleged wit), now benher head and looked at her brothe
ncredulously. "My word! That's a ric
dish."
"Why, Donald dear," his mother cried
reproachfully, "surely you are jesting!"
"Not at all. Nan Brent isn't a bad gir
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except that which is founded on hearsa
evidence, I can condone her offens
because I can understand it. She migh
have developed into a far worse girl that appears from Donald's account she is
At least, Nellie, she bore her child an
cherishes it, and, under the rules of societ
as we play it, that required a kind ocourage in which a great many girls ar
deficient. Give her credit for that."
"Apparently she has been frank,Elizabeth answered him coolly. "On th
other hand, father McKaye, her so-calle
courage may have been ignorance o
apathy or cowardice or indifference. It aldepends on her point of view."
"I disagree with mother that it is not
matter of importance," Donald persisted
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"Mother and the girls are up to thei
eyebrows in the work of an organizatio
n Seattle designed to salvage femal
delinquents," Donald complained. "I canunderstand their attitude."
Old Hector hooted.
"They don't do the salvaging. Not a bi
of it! That unpleasant work is left t
others, and the virtuous and respectabl
merely pay for it. Ken ye not, boy, 'twaever the habit of people of means t
patronize and coddle the lowly. If the
couldn't do that, where would be the fun o
being rich? Look in the Seattle papersWho gets the advertising out of a charit
ball if it isn't the rich? They organize i
and they put it over, with the public payin
for a look at them, and they attending th
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misfortune. I'm glad you stood by ol
Brent and his girl," he added approvingly
"I intend to accord her the treatmenwhich a gentleman always accords th
finest lady in the land, dad."
"Or the lowest, my son. I've noticed tha
kind are not altogether unpopular with ou
finest gentlemen. Donald, I used to pray t
God that I wouldn't raise a fool. I feel tha
he's answered my prayers, but if yoshould ever turn hypocrite, I'll star
praying again."
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he Sawdust Pile, when, to hide he
emotion, she had half turned from him an
gazed so forlornly out across the Bight o
Tyee. It had struck him then, with peculiaforce, that Nan Brent never again woul
augh that joyous elfin laugh of other days
He had seen the pulse beating in he
creamy neck againa neck fullerrounder, glorious with the beauty of full
developed womanhood. And the riot o
golden hair was subdued, with th
exception of little wayward wisps tha
whipped her white temples. Her eyes
somewhat darker now, like the sea nea
he horizon after the sun has set but whilhe glory of the day still lingers, wer
bright with unshed tears. The sweet curve
of her mouth were drawn in pain. Th
northwest trade-wind blowing across th
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"This is Darrow, Mr. Donald. I don
believe you've seen it, have you? Darrow
put in his mill and town while you wer
away."
Donald looked over the motle
collection of shacks as the automobil
rolled down the single unpaved street.
"Filthy hole," he muttered. "Hello
There's one of my late friends from th
Sawdust Pile."
A woman, standing in the open door of
shanty on the outskirts of the town ha
made a wry face and thrust out her tongu
at him. He lifted his hat gravely, wherea
she screamed a curse upon him. An instan
ater, an empty beer-bottle dropped with
crash in the tonneau, and Donald, turning
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hem with adhesive tape, and went back t
work next morning as if nothing ha
happened. During those five days, h
earned considerable of the art odropping a tree exactly where he desire
t, and bringing it to earth withou
breakage. He rode down to Port Agnew
with the woods crew on the last log-traiSaturday night, walked into the mill office
and cashed in his time-slip for five days
work as a chopper. He had earned two
dollars a day and his board and lodging
His father, who had driven into town to
meet him, came to the window an
watched him humorously."So that's the way you elect to work it
eh?" he queried. "I told Daney to pay yo
my salary when I quit."
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young laird of Tyee was still appraising
her, and, unable to withstand th
fascination peculiar to such a situation
she looked at him again to verify hesuspicionsand it was even so. In grea
confusion she turned to her stock, an
Donald, satisfied that he had squelche
her completely, went into the manager'office, wrote, and sealed the followin
note to Nan Brent:
Saturday night. FRIEND NAN:
Here are some duds for the youn
fellow. You gave me the right to look after
him, you know; at least, you didn't declint. At any rate, I think you will not mind
accepting them from me.
I sent to Seattle for some books I though
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breathe such a thing, butdid it eve
occur to you thatperhapsthe father o
an Brent's child might be"
"Donald?" he exploded incredulously.
She nodded, and about her nod ther
was something of that calm self
confidence of an attorney who is winnin
his case and desires to impress that fac
upon the jury.
"By God, woman," cried Daney, "yo
have the most infernal ideas"
"Andrew! Remember it's the Sabbath!"
"It's a wonder my language doesn
shrivel this paper. Now then, where i
hades do you get this crazy notion?
Daney was thoroughly angry. She gazed u
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at him in vague apprehension. Had sh
gone too far? Suddenly he relaxed. "No
don't tell me," he growled. "I'll not be
gossip. God forgive me, I was about tbefoul the very salt I eat. I'll not b
disloyal."
"But, Andrew dear, don't you know wouldn't dare breathe it to anyone bu
you?"
"I don't know how much you'd dare. Aany rate, I'll excuse you from breathing i
o me, for I'm not interested. I know it isn
rue."
"Then, Andrew, it is your duty to tell me
why you know it isn't true, in order that
may set at rest certain rumors"
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fashioned deprecation for the blun
anguage he was about to employ, "you'l
admit that the child wasn't found behin
one of old Brent's cabbages. This is thyear 1916."
But Mrs. Daney anticipated him.
"They've figured it out," she interrupted
"and Donald was home from college fo
he holidays in 1912."
"So he was," The Laird replie
complacently. "I'd forgotten. So that alib
goes by the board. What else now? Doe
he child resemble my son?"
"Nobody knows. Nan Brent doesn
receive visitors, and she hasn't been up
own since the child was born."
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ntuition warned her impended, the mor
firmly did she become convinced that i
was her Christian duty to call upon Na
Brent and strive to present the situation ia common-sense light to that erring youn
Woman.
Having at length attained to thiresolution, a subtle peace settled ove
Mrs. Daney, the result, doubtless, of
consciousness of virtue regained, sinc
she was about to right a wrong to whicshe had so thoughtlessly been a party. He
decision had almost been reached whe
her husband, coming home for luncheon a
noon on Saturday, voiced thapprehension which had harassed hi
during the week.
"Donald will be home from the wood
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o-night," he announced, in troubled tones
"I do hope he'll not permit that big heart o
his to lead him into further kindnesses tha
will be misunderstood by certain peopln case they hear of them. I have neve
known a man so proud and fond of a so
as The Laird is of Donald."
"Nonsense!" his wife replie
complacently. "The Laird has forgotten al
about it."
"Perhaps. Nevertheless, he will watc
his son, and if, by any chance, the bo
should visit the Sawdust Pile"
"Then it will be time enough to worr
about him, Andrew. In the meantime, it'
none of our business, dear. Eat you
uncheon and don't think about it."
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warn me to protect him! As if I wouldn
ay down my life to uphold his honor
evertheless, you dear old bunglin
busybody, you are absolutely rightalthough I suspect no altruistic reaso
carried you forth on this uncomfortabl
errand."
Nan had heretofore, out of the bitternes
of her life, formed the opinion tha
brickbats were for the lowly, such as she
and bouquets solely for the great, such aDonald McKaye. Now, for the first time
she realized that human society i
organized in three stratahigh, mediocre
and low, and that when a mediocrity haclimbed to the seats of the mighty, hi
fellows strive to drag him back, down t
heir own ignoble levelor lower. To
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an, child of poverty, sorrow, and
solitude, the world had always appeare
more or less incomprehensible, but thi
afternoon, as she retraced her slow stepo the Sawdust Pile, the old dull pain o
existence had become more complicate
and acute with the knowledge that the firs
ray of sunlight that had entered her life ihree years was about to be withdrawn
and at the thought, tears, which seemed t
well from her heart rather than from he
eyes, coursed down her cheeks and a sob
broke through her clenched lips.
Her progress homeward, what with th
heavy bundle of driftwood, in her aprompeding her stride, coupled with th
necessity for frequent pauses to permit he
child to catch up with her, was necessaril
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wood up in it and carry it home for you."
Despite her distress, she smiled.
"You're such an old-fashionedgentleman," she replied. "So very muc
ike your sonI mean, your son is so ver
much like you."
"That's better. I think I enjoy th
compliment more when you put it tha
way," he answered. "Do not stand ther
holding the wood, my girl. Drop it."
She obeyed and employed her righ
hand, thus freed, in wiping the telltal
ears from her sweet face.
"I have been lax in neighborl
solicitude," The Laird continued. "I mus
send you over a supply of wood from th
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box factory. We have more waste than we
can use in the furnaces. Is this your littl
man, Nan? Sturdy little chap, isn't he
Come here, bub, and let me heft you."
He swung the child from the sands, an
while pretending to consider carefully th
nfant's weight, he searched the cherubicountenance with a swift, appraisin
glance.
"Healthy little rascal," he continued, answung the child high in the air two o
hree times, smiling paternally as the latte
screamed with delight. "How do you lik
hat, eh?" he demanded, as he set the bodown on the sand again.
"Dood!" the child replied, and gazing up
at The Laird yearningly. "Are you m
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daddy?"
But The Laird elected to disregard th
pathetic query and busied himselgathering up the bundle of driftwood, no
did he permit his glance to rest upon Na
Brent's flushed and troubled face. Tuckin
he bundle under one arm and taking Nan'child on the other, he whistled to his dog
and set out for the Sawdust Pile, leavin
he girl to follow behind him. H
preceded her through the gate, tossed thdriftwood on a small pile in the yard, an
urned to hand her the apron.
"You are not altogether happy, poogirl!" he said kindly. "I'm very sorry.
want the people in my town to be happy."
"I shall grow accustomed to it, Mr
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McKaye," Nan answered. "To-day, I am
merely a little more depressed than usua
Thank you so much for carrying the wood
You are more than kind."
His calm, inscrutable gray glance rove
over her, noting her beauty and he
sweetness, and the soul of him waroubled.
"Is it something you could confide in a
old man?" he queried gently. "You aremuch neglected, and II understand th
houghts that must come to you sometimes
Perhaps you would be happier elsewher
han in Port Agnew."
"Perhaps," she replied dully.
"If you could procure worksom
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profession to keep your mind off you
roublesI have some property i
Tacomasuburban lots with cottages on
hem." The Laird grew confused anembarrassed because of the thou