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Updated: May 26, 2025
"About thirty thousand a mile," answered Belding steadily, the trouble being that when his chief's imagination took strong hold of him he was apt to diverge from the point. "Then you will send out survey parties and get detailed estimates when the surveys are in." "How far is the road to run? The head waters of the Magwa are one hundred and fifty miles from its mouth."
The place had a peculiar fascination for him, and had by his orders been kept in its pristine wildness. Half a mile away the pulp mill was grinding dully, on the upper reaches of the great bay circular saws were ripping into logs fresh from Baudette's operations on the Magwa River, and seventy miles up the river a large crew was shipping and excavating at the iron mine.
The time for that had long passed, and, he silently concluded, the presidency of a railroad would suit Clark admirably. "Up the Magwa River." "And the maximum grades?" "Suitable for freight haulage to this point. We run with the water," added Clark with one of his rare smiles, "you ought to know that."
Here was the chance he had been waiting for all his life. And Clark had, by this time, labelled Baudette as a valuable and dependable man. He forthwith forgot all about him, and went back to the memory of Baudette's forefinger as it pushed its way up to the Magwa River. It flashed upon him that, in the course of a vehemently active life, he had built practically all things save one.
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