she got on board.

"You start on Monday and we will be out of town to-morrow. I wish you
good luck."

Lister thanked her, and when she got into the car she gave him a curious
smile. "I think I liked you better in the woods," she said, and the car
rolled off.



CHAPTER VII

LISTER'S DISSATISFACTION

Soon after his return from Winnipeg, Lister stood one evening by a
length of track planned to cut out an awkward curve. The new line ran
into a muskeg that sucked down brush and logs and the loads of numerous
gravel trains. Angry foremen declared one could not fill up the bog, and
Lister knew the heads of the construction office grumbled about the
delay. He was tired, for he had been strenuously occupied since morning,
but could not persuade himself that the work had made much progress.

Small trees lay in tangled rows about the fresh gravel; farther back,
the standing bush ran in a broken line against the fading light. In
front, thin mist drifted across the muskeg where slender trunks rose
from the quaking mud. Not far off a high, wooden trestle carried the
rails across a ravine. The bridge would presently be rebuilt with steel,
but in the meantime the frame was open and the gaps between the ties
were wide.