o Denny Hogan's saloon. Denny had to buy new fixtures
when they went away; but it was worth it.

Proud! it was no name for it. Boast! the fame of Camp One spread abroad
over the land, and was believed in to about twenty per cent of the
anecdotes detailed of it--which was near enough the actual truth.
Anecdotes disbelieved, the class of men from it would have given it a
reputation. The latter was varied enough, in truth. Some people thought
Camp One must be a sort of hell-hole of roaring, fighting devils. Others
sighed and made rapid calculations of the number of logs they could put
in, if only they could get hold of help like that.

Thorpe himself, of course, made his headquarters at Camp One. Thence
he visited at least once a week all the other camps, inspecting the
minutest details, not only of the work, but of the everyday life. For
this purpose he maintained a light box sleigh and pair of bays, though
often, when the snow became deep, he was forced to snowshoes.

During the five years he had never crossed the Straits of Mackinaw.
The rupture with his sister had made repugnant to him all the southern
country. He preferred to remain in the woods. All winter long he
was more than busy at his logging. Summers he spent at the mill.
Occasionally he visited Marquette, but always on business. He became
used to seeing only the rough faces of men. The vision of softer graces
and beauties lost its distinctness before this strong, hardy northland,
whose gentler moods were like velvet over iron, or like its own summer
leaves veiling the eternal darkness of the pines.

He was happy because he was too busy to be anything else. The insistent
need of success which he had created for himself, absorbed all other
sentiments. He demanded it of others rigorously. He could do no less
than demand it of himself. It had practically become one of his tenets
of belief. The chief end of any man, as he saw it, was to do well
and successfully what his life found ready. Anything to further this
fore-ordained activity was good; anything else was bad. These thoughts,
aided by a disposition naturally fervent and single in purpose,
hereditarily ascetic and conscientious--for his mother was of old New
England stock--gave to him in the course of six years' striving a sort
of daily and familiar religion to which he conformed his life.

Success, success, success. Nothing could be of more importance. Its
attainment argued a man's efficiency in the Sche