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Updated: May 13, 2025
The situation was plain. All Heinzman now had to do was to retain a small crew, which should follow after the rear in order to sack what logs the latter should leave stranded. This amounted practically to nothing.
This situation, perhaps a little cloudy in the reader's mind, would have cleared could he have looked out over the dam pond the following morning. The blazed logs belonging to Heinzman, drifting slowly, had sucked down into the corner toward the power canal where, caught against the grating, they had jammed.
"I thought you'd surely be able to pay it," retorted Newmark, now secure in the position he desired to take, that of putting Orde entirely in the wrong. "Well, I expected to pay it; and I'll pay it yet," rejoined Orde. "I don't think Heinzman will stand in his own light rather than renew the notes." He seized his hat and departed. Once in the street, however, his irritation passed.
Heinzman is at home ill," replied the bookkeeper. "Already?" said Orde. He drummed on the black walnut rail thoughtfully. The notes came due in ten days. "How bad is he?" The clerk looked up curiously. "Can't say. Probably won't be back for a long time. It's smallpox, you know." "True," said Orde. "Well, who's in charge?" "Mr. Lambert. You'll find him in the private office."
"Go ahead, Marsh!" said Orde. The tug gathered way. Soon Heinzman was forced to let go. For a second time the chains were snapped. Orde and Marsh looked back over the churning wake left by the SPRITE. The severed ends of the booms were swinging back toward either shore. Between them floated a rowboat. In the rowboat gesticulated a pudgy man. The river was well sprinkled with logs.
Heinzman, however, possessed much political influence, a deep knowledge of the subterranean workings of plot and counterplot, and a "barrel." Although armed with an apparently incontestable legal right, Newmark soon found himself fighting on the defensive. Heinzman wanted the improvements already existing condemned and sold as a public utility to the highest bidder.
"He says a crew of bad men from the Saginaw, sixty strong, have been sent in by Heinzman. He says Heinzman hired them to come over not to work, but just to fight and annoy us." "That so?" said Orde. "Well, where are they?" "Don't know. But he sticks by his story, and tells it pretty straight." "Bring him over, and let's hear it," said Orde.
If that jam goes out I vill lose a heap of money." "Well, you'll make quite a heap on this deal," said Newmark carelessly. "Suppose he holds it," said Heinzman, pausing. "I hate like the mischief to joomp on him." "Rot!" said Newmark decisively. "That's what he's there for." He looked at the German sharply. "I suppose you know just how deep you're in this?"
The game is infinite, wonderful, fascinating to the skilful." He opened his eyes and looked over at Orde with a mild curiosity. "I suppose men are about all of one kind to you." "Two," said Orde grimly; "the honest men and the scoundrels." "Well," said the other, "let's settle this thing. The fact remains that the firm owes a note to Heinzman, which it cannot pay.
Taylor, these are my especially busy days for the firm, and I have to work my private affairs in when I can." "I thought Frank was very solicitous about my getting out in the air," cried Clara. "Come, Carroll, let's wander down the street and see Mina Heinzman." The two interlocked arms and sauntered along the walk. Both men lit cigars and sat on the top step of the porch.
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