Newmark threw
back his head and laughed noiselessly.
"So now he knows that if we forfeit the bond he'll have controlling
interest," he pointed out.
Orde smoked rapidly, his brow troubled.
"But what I can't make out," reflected Newmark, "is why he's so sure
we'll have to forfeit."
"I think he's just taking a long shot at it," suggested Orde, who
seemed finally to have decided against Newmark's opinion. "I
believe you're shying at mare's nests."
"Not he. He has some good reason for thinking we won't deliver the
logs. Why does he insist on putting in a date for delivery? None
of the others does."
"I don't know," replied Orde. "Just to put some sort of a time
limit on the thing, I suppose."
"You say you surely can get the drive through by then?"
Orde laughed.
"Sure? Why, it gives me two weeks' leeway over the worst possible
luck I could have. You're too almighty suspicious, Joe."
Newmark shook his head.
"You let me figure this out," said he.
But bedtime found him without a solution. He retired to his room
under fire of Orde's good-natured raillery. Orde himself shut his
door, the smile still on his lips. As he began removing his coat,
however, the smile died.
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