and as a duty to be fulfilled.

It was then about six o'clock in the morning. Thorpe passed the
boarding-house, the store, and the office, to take himself as far as the
little open shed that served the primitive town as a railway station.
There he set the semaphore to flag the east-bound train from Duluth.
At six thirty-two, the train happening on time, he climbed aboard. He
dropped heavily into a seat and stared straight in front of him until
the conductor had spoken to him twice.

"Where to, Mr. Thorpe?" he asked.

The latter gazed at him uncomprehendingly.

"Oh! Mackinaw City," he replied at last.

"How're things going up your way?" inquired the conductor by way of
conversation while he made out the pay-slip.

"Good!" responded Thorpe mechanically.

The act of paying for his fare brought to his consciousness that he had
but a little over ten dollars with him. He thrust the change back into
his pocket, and took up his contemplation of nothing. The river water
dripped slowly from his "cork" boots to form a pool on the car floor.
The heavy wool of his short driving trousers steamed in the car's
warmth. His shoulders dried in a little cloud of vapor. He noticed none
of these things, but stared ahead, his gaze vacant, the bronze of his
face set in the lines of a brown study, his strong capable hands hanging
purposeless between his knees. The ride to Mackinaw City was six hours
long, and the train in addition lost some ninety minutes; but in all
this distance Thorpe never altered his pose nor his fixed attitude of
attention to some inner voice.

The car-ferry finally landed them on the southern peninsula. Thorpe
descended at Mackinaw City to find that the noon train had gone. He ate
lunch at the hotel,--borrowed a hundred dollars from the agent of Louis
Sands, a lumberman of his acquaintance; and seated himself rigidly in
the little waiting room, there to remain until the nine-twenty that
night. When the cars were backed down from the siding, he boarded the
sleeper. In the doorway stood a disapproving colored porter.

"Yo'll fin' the smokin' cab up fo'wu'd, suh," said the latter, firmly
barring the way.

"It's generally forward," answered Thorpe.

"This yeah's th' sleepah," protested the functionary. "You pays extry."

"I am aware of it," replied Thorpe curtly. "Give me a lower."

"Yessah!" acquiesced the darkey, giving way, but still in doubt. He
followed Thorpe curiously, peering into the smoking room on