man's question, having recognized him as a second cook for the
steel-laying gang.

"Fer if ye be," continued the man, "ye's be keepin' a lookout fer Timmie
noo, wouldn't ye though?"

"Who's Timmie?" asked Bruce.

"Timmie? Hae ye never hearn o' Timmie? Timmie; the boy it was, seventeen
he was then. But 'twas twelve years ago it was, lad. He'd be a man noo. I
sent him fer the bag wi' the pay-roll in it, an' he never coom back. It
was the money thet done it, fer mind ye, I'm tellin' ye, he was jest a
boy, seventeen. He went away to the woods wi' it, and then was shamed to
coom back, I know. So if ye'll be goin' to the woods ye'll be watchin'
noo, won't ye?"

"Was he your boy?"

"No, not mine. But 'twas I was to blame; sendin' him fer th' pay; an' him
so young. Five thousand seven hundred and twenty-four dollars it was, of
the logging company's money; a month's pay fer the men. An' if ye see him
tell him I was all to blame. Tell him to coom back; the Province'll
fergive him."

"And the company?" asked Bruce.

"Partners both dead. Died poor. No. 'Twasn't the loss of thet money. They
had many losses. Contractin's a fearfu' uncertain business; fearfu'
uncertain." The old man shook his head slowly.