have been held up for the Lord knows how long."

Murchison suppressed a smile, and hunched his chair a bit nearer the
stove. "When all's said an' done then, the case stands about like
this. This engineer will be along in a few days to begin work locatin'
the power dam, an' lookin' up more pulpwood. John believes that
Wentworth will let the options expire, an' then swing the stuff over to
this man Orcutt an' his crowd--an he's sent you up to block the game."

Hedin nodded. "That's it."

"You're my clerk, an' your name's Sven Larson--that's a good
Scandinavian name--an' you don't know nothin' about pulp-wood, nor
options. I guess it would be best if we could put him up right here.
We could be watchin' him all the while without seemin' to."

"I wonder when Wentworth will be here?" speculated Hedin.

"There's no tellin'. It's accordin' to the outfit he packs an' the
guide he's got. They'll have to camp for the storm, an' the snow will
slow them up one-half. The storm will last three days or four, an'
after that, a day, mebbe a week. Anyways, 'twill give ye time to learn
the duties of a factor's clerk, which is a thing the Company has never
furnished at Gods Lake, but if John McNabb foots the bill, they'll not
worry. 'Twould be better an' ye could play the dolt--not an eediot, or
an addlepate--but just a dull fellow, slow of wit, an' knowin' nought
except of fur."

Hedin laughed. "That won't bother me in the least."