In the smoother spaces, trout splashed; the reflections of the hills showed in the great expanse as the light wind lessened, allowing the surface to become glass-like, revealing also the twisted roots and dead branches of trees long inundated in forming the big basin of water.
Evidently only a few men were working in the hills; the descent of the logs was a thing spaced by many minutes, and the booming of the splash struck forth into the hills to be echoed and re-echoed.

Houston stared gloomily at the skid, at the lake and the small parcel of logs drifting there.
"All for nothing," came at last.

"It takes about three logs to make one--the way they're working." "_Oui_! But M'sieu Houston shall learn." Barry did not answer.

He had learned a great deal already.

He knew enough to realize that his new effort must be a clean sweep,--from the manager down.