lumber baron exceedingly. “All right, all right,” he growled. “Don’t be a blamed young fool. I’m not going away anywhere.” Joe laughed. “I’m glad of that. I’ll ask your advice pretty often, Mr. Crooks. By the way, what would you think of turning my business into a joint stock company? I don’t fancy the idea myself.” “Who’s been talking to you?” demanded Crooks. “Well, Mr. Ackerman dropped in this morning.” “What did he want?” “I don’t suppose he wanted anything in particular. He just happened in, being in town. This came up in the course of conversation.” “Son,” said Crooks, “Ackerman doesn’t go anywhere or see anybody without he wants something. You tie into that. What did he talk about?” Joe told him. Crooks listened intently, chewing his cigar. “He suggested the same thing to your father, and your father refused to consider it,” he said. “Now he comes to you. Huh!” He smoked in silence for several moments. “I wonder what his game is?” he concluded thoughtfully. “Why, I suppose if he organized the company he’d get a block of stock for his services,” said Joe, and he thought the comment particularly shrewd. “That’s all I see in it, Mr. Crooks.” “You don’t know a thing about it,” growled the lumberman bluntly. “If you fell in with his proposition he’d kick you out when he got ready.” “No,” said Joe. “He suggested that I retain a majority of the shares.” Crooks eyed him pityingly. “In about six months he’d issue more and cut your throat.” “How could he do that unless I consented?” “You would consent—the way they’d put it up to you. However, you won’t deal with him if you have any sense. Now, look here. You’re not twenty-five, just starting business. You think all there is to it is to cut your logs, bring down your drives, cut them up into lumber, and the demand will take care of the rest. That’s how it used to be. It isn’t so now. Timber is getting scarcer and prices are going up. There is a scramble for what timber limits are left, and the men with the pull get them. Same way with contracts.
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