"The old laird must be unwell, sir," he opined.

But the master shook his head.

"He was to have had dinner aboard with us last night, but early in the
afternoon he sent over word that he'd like to be excused. He's sick at
heart, poor man! Daney tells me he's heard the town gossip about young
Donald."

"The lad's a gentleman, sir," the mate defended. "He'll not disgrace
his people."

"He's young--and youth must be served. Man, I was young myself
once--and Nan of the Sawdust Pile is not a woman a young man would
look at once and go his way."

* * * * *

In the southwestern corner of the state of Washington, nestled in the
Bight of Tyee and straddling the Skookum River, lies the little
sawmill town of Port Agnew. It is a community somewhat difficult to
locate, for the Bight of Tyee is not of sufficient importance as a
harbor to have won consideration by the cartographers of the Coast and
Geodetic Survey, and Port Agnew is not quite forty years old.
Consequently, it appears only on the very latest state maps and in the
smallest possible type.

When Hector McKaye first gazed upon the bight, the transcontinental
lines had not yet begun to consider the thrusting of their tentacles