But the deadly pin-points of discontent and discouragement were still
pricking him when he fell asleep.




CHAPTER V

FURTHER ACQUAINTANCE


Mike Breyette took a last look over his shoulder as the current and the
thrust of two paddles carried the canoe around the first bend. Thompson
stood on the bank, watching them go.

"Bagosh, dat man hees gon' have dam toff time, Ah theenk," Breyette
voiced his conviction. "Feller lak heem got no beesness for be here
'tall."

"He didna have tae come here," MacDonald answered carelessly. "An' he
disna have tae stay."

"Oh, sure, Ah know dat, me," Mike agreed. "All same hees feel bad."

Which was a correct, if brief, estimate of Mr. Thompson's emotions as he
stood on the bank watching the gray canoe slip silently out of his ken.
That gave him a keener pang, a more complete sense of loss, than he had
ever suffered at parting with any one or anything. It was to him like
taking a last look before a leap in the dark. Thrown entirely upon his
own resources he felt wholly inadequate, found his breast filled with