There followed a busy two weeks for them.  Mr. Demilt had some money he wished to put into the enterprise, but his most valuable assistance was, of course, his thorough knowledge of the resources of the country.

They found an admirable site for the mill, in an old stone barn, which had stood the ravages of desolation almost unimpaired.  Red’s mining experience told him that the creek could easily be flumed to the barn, and as that was the only objection of the others to this location, they wrote the owner of the property for a price.  They were astonished when they received the figures.  It had come by inheritance to a man to whom it was a white elephant of the most exasperating sort, and he was glad to get rid of it for almost a song.  They were a jubilant three at the news.  It saved the cost of building a mill, and including that, the price was as low per acre as any land they could have obtained.  Red closed the bargain instantly.

Lettis’ part of the business was chiefly to arrange for the disposal of their product, and when he explained to his partners what he could reasonably hope to do in that line, the affair lost its last tint of unreality, and became a good proposition, for Lettis had an excellent business acquaintance, who would be glad to deal with the straightforward young fellow.

The night after the signing of the deeds, Red said to Miss Mattie, “We ought to have a stockholders’ dinner to-morrow night, Mattie.  If you could hire that scow-built girl, who wears her hair scrambled, to come in and give you a lift, would you feel equal to it?”

“You always put it that I’m doing you a great favour in such things, Will, but you know perfectly well there’s nothing I’d rather do,” replied Miss Mattie, with a dimpling smile.  “However, it adds to the pleasure of it to have it put in that way, so I won’t complain.  I’ll just have my supper first, and then you men can talk over your business undisturbed.”

“You will not—­you’ll eat with the rest of us.”

“Yes, but you stockholders—­” The word had an import to Miss Mattie; a something, if not regal, at least a kinship to the king.  Under her democracy lay a respect for the founded institution; impersonal; an integral part of the law of the State; in fact, a minor sovereignty within an empire.

“Stockholder yourself!” retorted Red.  “Don’t you call me names.”

“What do you mean, Will?” asked Miss Mattie, with wide-opened eyes.

“I mean you’re a stockholder as good as anybody—­you’ve got half my stack.  Now, hold on!  Just listen!  This is a queer run, Mattie, from the regulation point of view, this company of ours; I know enough about fillin’ and backin’ to know that—­you ought to have seen the pryin’, and pokin’, and nosin’ around them Boston men did before they took holt of the Chantay Seeche and made it a stock company!  One feller was the ablest durn fool I ever come acrosst.  I used to let on I didn’t