"No," said Stirling, with a curtness at which Weston could not take
offense. "He can put in the evening that way if it's necessary. It
will supple him, and I guess he needs it. I have a rig ready. You're
coming along with me."

Weston took his place in the light, four-wheeled vehicle, and found it
difficult to keep it, for the trail was villainous, and Stirling drove
rapidly. Their way led between shadowy colonnades of towering firs,
and the fragile, two-seated frame bounced and lurched into and out of
deep ruts, and over the split trees that had been laid flat-side
downward in the quaggy places--like a field gun going into action was
the best comparison Weston could think of. The horses, however, kept
their feet, and the wheels held fast. Once, when a jolt nearly pitched
him from his seat, Stirling laughed.

"After the city it's a relief to let them out," he said. "I did this
kind of thing for a living once. The mine was way back in the bush,
leagues from anywhere, and I hired out as special store and despatch
carrier. There was red-hot trouble unless I got through on time when
the mail came in."

He drove the team furiously at an unguarded log bridge which was
barely wide enough to let the wheels pass.

"It's quite a way to the lake yet, and we want to make the camp before
it's dark," he explained. "Know anything about sailing a boat?"

Weston said that he did, and Stirling nodded.

"That's good," he observed somewhat dryly, "so does the major man."

Weston ventured to smile at this, and once more his employer's eyes
twinkled.

"Some of you people from the old country are quite hard to amuse;
though I'm open to admit that we have a few of the same kind on this
side," he said. "My daughter seemed to fancy they wouldn't find a lake
camp quite right without a boat, so I sent along and bought one at
Toronto. Had her put on a flat car, and hired half the teams in the
district to haul her to the lake. Now, I guess there are men in this
country who, if they wanted a boat, would just take an ax and whipsaw
and build one out of the woods."

Weston laughed. He was commencing to understand the man better, for he
had met other men of Stirling's description in Canada. As a matter of
fact, they are rather common in the Dominion, men who have had very
little bestowed on them beyond the inestimable faculty of getting what
they want at the cost of grim self-denial and tireless labor. Still,
as it was in Stirling's case,