As he bore down on the intruders with tremendous, nervous strides,
they perceived him to be an old man, white of hair, cadaverous of
countenance, with thin, straight lips, and burning, fanatic eyes
beneath stiff and bushy brows.

"Good-morning, Mr. Reed," shouted Orde above the noise of the water.

"Good-morning, gentlemen," replied the apparition.

"Nice dam you got here," went on Orde.

Reed nodded, his fiery eyes fixed unblinking on the riverman.

"But you haven't been quite square to us," said Orde. You aren't
giving us much show to get our logs out."

"How so?" snapped the owner, his thin lips tightening.

"Oh, I guess you know, all right," laughed Orde, clambering
leisurely back to the top of the dam. "That sluice is a good six
foot too high."

"Is that so!" cried the old man, plunging suddenly into a craze of
excitement. "Well, let me tell you this, Mr. Man, I'm giving you
all the law gives you, and that's the natural flow of the river, and
not a thing more will you get! You that comes to waste and destroy,
to arrogate unto yourselves the kingdoms of the yearth and all the
fruits thereof, let me tell you you can't override Simeon Reed! I'm
engaged here in a peaceful and fittin' operation, which is to feed