Orde fell into a brown study, eating mechanically. The men began an
eager and somewhat truculent discussion full of lawless and
bloodthirsty suggestion. Some suggested the kidnapping and
sequestration of Reed until the affair should be finished.

"How'd he get hold of his old sheriff, then?" they inquired with
some pertinence.

Orde, however, paid no attention to all this talk, but continued to
frown into space. At last his face cleared, and he slapped down his
tin plate so violently that the knife and fork jumped off into the
dirt.

"I have it!" he cried aloud.

But he would not tell what he had. After the noon hour he
instructed a half-dozen men to provide themselves with saws, axes,
picks, and shovels, and all marched in the direction of the mill.

When within a hundred yards or so of that structure the advancing
riverman saw the lank, black figure of the mill owner flap into
sight, astride a bony old horse, and clatter away, coat-tails
flying, up the road and into the waiting forest.

"Now, boys!" cried Orde crisply. "He'll be back in an hour with the
sheriff. Lively!" He rapidly designated ten men of his crew. "You
boys get to work and make things hum. Get as much done as you can
before the sheriff comes."