"It's one of those old army trucks Uncle Sam gave us. Got a great battery
and tremendous power. Get in."

They climbed aboard. Mr. Marlin touched the starter and the engine began
to chug. He let in his clutch but the car would not move. The car happened
to be standing on a moist spot and its great weight had pressed the wheels
far down into the soft new road. Mr. Marlin threw on the power. The truck
jumped, something snapped sharply and a banging noise followed as the car
moved jerkily ahead.

"Thunderation!" cried the forester. "I've broken the differential. I bet
ten dollars on it." And investigation proved his diagnosis was correct. "I
suppose it will take all summer to get a new part," growled the forester.
"This truck will have to stand here idle until repairs come. But we
can't stand here idle. Come on."

They set off down the road. After a long hike they came to the skidways at
the main road. Nobody was in sight.

"We'll begin at one end and work toward the other until we hear somebody
coming. Then we'll have business elsewhere."

Pile by pile they scaled the logs, Charley using the log-rule under Mr.
Marlin's close observation, while the forester himself kept tally. Alone
in the big woods, they talked freely.

"Why do you suppose Lumley took a chance like this?" asked the forester.
"He might have known he'd get caught."

"Primarily because he wanted the money, of course," maintained Charley.