islands of one of
the eastern lakes, which was then a rather favorite means of
relaxation with the inhabitants of Toronto and Montreal. Stirling
desired him to accompany the party, on terms which appeared very
satisfactory, and added that if he were acquainted with another man
likely to make an efficient camp attendant he could bring him along.

Weston started a little when he reached the last suggestion, for he
fancied that it was Miss Stirling who had made it. He leaned on the
counter for several minutes, thinking hard; and then, though he was
not sure that he acted wisely, he started for the station to despatch
a telegram, as Stirling had directed. The next morning the agent
handed him tickets for himself and Grenfell, and they set out on the
Atlantic train.

CHAPTER XIII

STIRLING LETS THINGS SLIDE

It was early evening when Weston swung himself down from the platform
of the Colonist car in a little roadside station shut in by the pine
bush of Ontario. There was a wooden hotel beside the track, and one or
two stores; but that was all, and the fact that nobody except the
station-agent had appeared to watch the train come in testified to the
industry, or, more probably, the loneliness of the district. While
Weston stood looking about him a man came out of the office, and he
was somewhat astonished to find himself face to face with his
employer.

The smart straw hat and light summer suit did not become the
contractor. He was full-fleshed and red of face, and the artistically
cut garments striped in soft colors conveyed a suggestion of ease and
leisure which seemed very much out of place on him. One could not
imagine this man lounging on a sunlit beach, or discoursing airily on
a cool veranda.

"Got here," he said abruptly, and then swung around and looked at
Grenfell. "This is the other man? Well, he can stay and bring along
the baggage. There's most a freight-car full. They'll give him a wagon
and team at the hotel."

He indicated a great pile of trunks and cases with a wave of his hand,
and, seeing Weston's astonishment, added with a twinkle in his eyes:

"My daughter and her friends are camping. They have to have these
things."

Weston understood his employer's smile. This, he recognized, was a man
who could be content with essential things, and in all probability had
at one time esteemed himself fortunate when he succeeded in obtaining
them.

"Hadn't I better help him load them up?" he asked.