Eventually the time for acquiring more timber arrived. John Cardigan,
meeting his neighbour on the street, accosted him thus:

"Look here, Bill: isn't it time we got together on that timber of
yours? You know you've been holding it to block me and force me to
buy at your figure."

"That's why I bought it," the other admitted smilingly. "Then, before
I realized my position, you checkmated me with that quarter-section
in the valley, and we've been deadlocked ever since."

"I'll give you a dollar a thousand stumpage for your timber, Bill."

"I want a dollar and a half."

"A dollar is my absolute limit."

"Then I'll keep my timber."

"And I'll keep my money. When I finish logging in my present
holdings, I'm going to pull out of that country and log twenty miles
south of Sequoia. I have ten thousand acres in the San Hedrin
watershed. Remember, Bill, the man who buys your timber will have to
log it through my land--and I'm not going to log that quarter-section
in the valley. Hence there will be no outlet for your timber in
back."

"Not going to log it? Why, what are you going to do with it?"