The Blackbird made her trip and a second and a third, which brought the date late in August.  On his delivery, when the salmon in her hold had been picarooned to the cannery floor, MacRae went up to the office.  Stubby had sent for him.  He looked uncomfortable when Jack came in.

“What’s on your mind now?” MacRae asked genially.

“Something damned unpleasant,” Stubby growled.

“Shoot,” MacRae said.  He sat down and lit a cigarette.

“I didn’t think they could do it,” Abbott said slowly.  “But it seems they can.  I guess you’ll have to lay off the Gower territory after all, Jack.”

“You mean you will,” MacRae replied.  “I’ve been rather expecting that.  Can Gower hurt you?”

“Not personally.  But the banks—­export control—­there are so many angles to the cannery situation.  There’s nothing openly threatened.  But it has been made perfectly clear to me that I’ll be hampered and harassed till I won’t know whether I’m afoot or on horseback, if I go on paying a few cents more for salmon in order to keep my plant working efficiently.  Damn it, I hate it.  But I’m in no position to clash with the rest of the cannery crowd and the banks too.  I hate to let you down.  You’ve pulled me out of a hole.  I don’t know a man who would have worked at your pitch and carried things off the way you have.  If I had this pack marketed, I could snap my fingers at them.  But I haven’t.  There’s the rub.  I hate to ditch you in order to insure myself—­get in line at somebody else’s dictation.”

“Don’t worry about me,” MacRae said gently.  “I have no cannery and no pack to market through the regular channels.  Nor has the bank advanced me any funds.  You are not responsible for what I do.  And neither Gower nor the Packers’ Association nor the banks can stop me from buying salmon so long as I have the money to pay the fishermen and carriers to haul them, can they?”

“No, but the devil of it is they can stop you selling,” Stubby lamented bitterly.  “I tell you there isn’t a cannery on the Gulf will pay you a cent more than they pay the fishermen.  What’s the use of buying if you can’t sell?”

MacRae did not attempt to answer that.

“Let’s sum it up,” he said.  “You can’t take any more bluebacks from Gower’s territory.  That, I gather, is the chief object.  I suppose they know as much about your business as you know yourself.  Am I to be deprived of the two boat charters into the bargain?”

“No, by the Lord,” Stubby swore.  “Not if you want them.  My general policy may be subject to dictation, but not the petty details of my business.  There’s a limit.  I won’t stand for that.”

“Put a fair price on the Birds, and I’ll buy ’em both,” MacRae suggested.  “You had them up for sale, anyway.  That will let you out, so far as my equipment is concerned.”

“Five thousand each,” Stubby said promptly.

“They’re good value at that.  And I can use ten thousand dollars to advantage, right now.”