VI

Orcutt greeted his caller without enthusiasm. For despite the
assurance over the telephone that Wentworth wanted no money, he felt
that he was in for a touch.

The younger man was quick to note the attitude, and hastened to dispel
it. "In the first place, Mr. Orcutt, I am going to ask you to cash a
check for three thousand dollars, but----"

"Three thousand!" exclaimed Orcutt, his eyes narrowing. "Whose check
is it?"

"John McNabb's."

"John McNabb's!" A look of suspicion flashed into his eyes.

"Yes--isn't it good?"

"Good! Hell--yes, of course it's good! But what are you doing with
McNabb's check for three thousand?"

Reaching into his pocket, Wentworth drew out the packet of papers and
held it in his hand. "Eight or ten years ago McNabb bought options on
a half million acres of pulp-wood lying between two certain rivers. He
sent for me--said he heard I was out of a job, and that as he was the
one that was responsible for my losing out, it was only fair that he
should offer me another. Then he went on to outline the whole
proposition, told me the options expired on August first; then he was
called out of the office for a minute and asked me to look over the