depths of good nature beneath his rather stern exterior, for he was
pleased at the compliment implied in the superintendent's words, and
stretching out a mighty hand to Frank, he laid it on his shoulder in a
kindly way, saying,--

"He seems a likely lad, Mr. Stewart, and a chip of the old block, if I'm
not mistaken. I'll be right glad to have him with me. But what kind of
work is he to go at? He seems rather light for chopping, doesn't he?"

Mr. Stewart gave a quizzical sort of glance at Frank as he replied,--

"Well, you see, Dan, I think myself he is too light for chopping, so I
told him he'd have to be chore-boy for this winter, anyway."

A look of surprise came over Johnston's face, and, more to himself than
the others, he muttered in a low tone,--

"Chore-boy, eh? Jack Kingston's son a chore-boy!" Then turning to Frank,
he said aloud, "All right, my boy. There's nothing like beginning at
the bottom if you want to learn the whole business. You must make up your
mind to put in a pretty hard time, but I'll see you have fair play,
anyway."

As Frank looked at the rugged, honest, determined face, and the stalwart
frame, he felt thoroughly satisfied that in Dan Johnston he had a friend
in whom he could place perfect confidence, and that Mr. Stewart's promise
had been fully kept. The foreman then became quite sociable, and asked
him many questions about his mother, and his life in Calumet, and his
plans for the future, so that before they parted for the night Frank felt
as if they were quite old friends instead of recent acquaintances.