t experience. He said nothing of
this to the man before him, because of that strange streak in his nature
which prompted him to conceal what he felt most strongly; to leave to
others the task of guessing out his attitude; to stand on appearances
without attempting to justify them, no matter how simple the
justification might be. A moment's frank, straightforward talk might
have caught Daly's attention, for the lumberman was, after all, a shrewd
reader of character where his prejudices were not concerned. Then events
would have turned out very differently.

After his speech the business man had whirled back to his desk.

"Have you anything for me to do in the woods, then?" the other asked
quietly.

"No," said Daly over his shoulder.

Thorpe went out.

Before leaving Detroit he had, on the advice of friends, visited the
city office of Morrison & Daly. There he had been told positively that
the firm were hiring men. Now, without five dollars in his pocket, he
made the elementary discovery that even in chopping wood skilled labor
counts. He did not know where to turn next, and he would not have had
the money to go far in any case. So, although Shearer's brusque greeting
that morning had argued a lack of cordiality, he resolved to remind the
riverman of his promised assistance.

That noon he carried out his resolve. To his surprise Shearer was
cordial--in his way. He came afterward to appreciate the subtle nuances
of manner and treatment by which a boss retains his moral supremacy in
a lumber country,--repels that too great familiarity which breeds
contempt, without imperiling the trust and comradeship which breeds
willingness. In the morning Thorpe had been a prospective employee of
the firm, and so a possible subordinate of Shearer himself. Now he was
Shearer's equal.

"Go up and tackle Radway. He's jobbing for us on the Cass Branch. He
needs men for roadin', I know, because he's behind. You'll get a job
there."

"Where is it?" asked Thorpe.

"Ten miles from here. She's blazed, but you better wait for th' supply
team, Friday. If you try to make her yourself, you'll get lost on some
of th' old loggin' roads."

Thorpe considered.

"I'm busted," he said at last frankly.

"Oh, that's all right," replied the walking-boss. "Marshall, come here!"

The peg-legged boarding-house keeper stumped in.

"What is it?" he trumpeted snufflingly.

"This boy wants a job till Friday. Then he's going up to Radway's with
th