showed. They were valuable, for, in Scattergood's rude printing, one
could read upon them the owner of every piece of timber, every farm, the
acreage in each piece of timber, with a careful estimate of the amount
of timber to the acre--also its proportions of spruce, beech, birch,
maple, ash.

Toward the head of the valley, where good timber was thickest,
Scattergood's map showed how it spread out like a fan, with the two main
branches of Coldriver and numerous brooks as the ribs. Then, down the
length of the stream, were parallel bands of it. On the map one could
see what this timber could be bought for; prices ranging from two
dollars and a half an acre down the main river to sixty-six cents at the
extremity of the fan.

As Scattergood studied his maps he saw, far in the future, perhaps, but
clearly and distinctly and certainly, two parallel lines running up the
river to his village; he saw, branching off from a spot below the
village, where East and West Branches joined to pour over a certain dam
owned by him, other narrower parallel lines following river and brooks
back and back into the mountains, the spruce-clad mountains. These
parallel lines were rails. The ones which ran close together were
narrow-gauge--logging roads to bring logs to the big mill which
Scattergood planned to build beside his dam. The broader lines were a
standard-gauge road to carry the cut lumber to the outside world, and
not only the cut lumber, but all the traffic of the valley, all the
freight, the manufactured products of other mills and factories which
were to come along the banks of his river. Here, in black and white, was
set down Scattergood's life plan. When it was accomplished he would be
through. He would be willing to have his maps rolled up and himself to
be laid on the shelf, for he would have done the thing he set out to