The Cass Branch had shrunken almost to its original limits.
Only here and there a little bayou or marsh attested recent freshets.
The drive must have been finished, even this early, for the stream in its present condition would hardly float saw logs, certainly not in quantity.
Thorpe, puzzled, walked on.

At the banking ground he found empty skids.
Evidently the drive was over.

And yet even to Thorpe's ignorance, it seemed incredible that the remaining million and a half of logs had been hauled, banked and driven during the short time he had lain in the Bay City hospital.

More to solve the problem than in any hope of work, he set out up the logging road.
Another three miles brought him to camp.

It looked strangely wet and sodden and deserted.