ned by the sweat of my manly brow."

In the fullness of time the salmon run came to an end. The pack being
finished the hands were paid off. In company with half a hundred others,
Ashe and Thompson were shipped from the Suchoi Bay Canneries back to
Wrangel again.

In Wrangel, before they had been there four hours, Thompson got the
offer of work in a pile camp. He took his prospective job under
advisement and hunted up Tommy Ashe. Tommy dangled his legs over the
edge of the bed in their room, and considered the matter.

"No," he said finally. "I don't believe I'll take it on. I think I'll go
down to Vancouver. I'm about two hundred dollars strong, and I don't
really see anything but a poor sort of living in this laboring-man
stuff. I'm going to try some business proposition. I've got a pretty
fair acquaintance with motor cars. I might be able to get in on the
selling end of the game, and there is good money in that in the way of
commissions. I know some people there who should be able to show me the
ropes. In a big live seaport like that there must be chances. Yes, I
think I'll try Vancouver. You'd better come too, Wes."

Thompson shook his head. He knew nothing of business. He had no trade.
For a time--until he came face to face with an opportunity he could
recognize as such--he shrank from tackling a city. He had not quite
Tommy's confidence in himself.

"No," he said. "I'd like to--but I don't believe I'd make good. And I
don't want to get in a position where I'd have to be looking for
somebody to throw me a life line. I don't seem to mind common hard work
so much. I don't imagine I could jump right into a town and be any
better off than I would be here. When I get a little more money ahead
I'll be tempted to take a chance on a city. But not yet."

From this position Tommy's persuasion failed to move him. Tommy was
earnest enough, and perfectly sincere in promising to see him through.
But that was not what Thompson wanted. He was determined that in so far
as he was able he would make his own way unaided. He wanted to be
through with props forever. That had become a matter of pride with him.
He went back and told the pile-camp boss that he would report in two
days.

A southbound steamer sailed forty-eight hours later. She backed away
from the Wrangel wharf with Tommy waving his hand to his partner on the
pierhead. Thompson went back to their room feeling a trifle blue, as one
does at parting from a friend. But