All these doubts and questionings were dissipated like fog.  Quite simply it all resolved itself.  He was dissatisfied because this was not his work.  The other honest and sincere men—­such as his father and Welton—­had been satisfied because this was their work.  The old generation, the one that was passing, needed just that kind of service but the need too was passing.  Bob belonged to the new generation.  He saw that new things were to be demanded.  The old order was changing.  The modern young men of energy and force and strong ability had a different task from that which their fathers had accomplished.  The wilderness was subdued; the pioneer work of industry was finished; the hard brute struggle to shape things to efficiency was over.  It had been necessary to get things done.  Now it was becoming necessary to perfect the means and methods of doing.  Lumber must still be cut, streams must still be dammed, railroads must still be built; but now that the pioneers, the men of fire, had blazed the way others could follow.  Methods were established.  It was all a business, like the selling of groceries.  The industrial rank and file could attend to details.  The men who thought and struggled and carried the torch—­they must go beyond what their fathers had accomplished.

Now Bob understood Amy Thorne’s pride in the Service.  He saw the true basis of his feeling toward the Supervisor as opposed to his feeling toward Baker.  Thorne was in the current.  With his pitiful eighteen hundred a year he was nevertheless swimming strongly in new waters.  His business went that little necessary step beyond.  It not only earned him his living in the world, but it helped the race movement of his people.  At present the living was small, just as at first the pioneer opening the country had wrested but a scanty livelihood from the stubborn wilderness; nevertheless, he could feel—­whether he stopped to think it out or not—­that his efforts had that coordination with the trend of humanity which makes subtly for satisfaction and happiness.  Bob looked about the mill yard with an understanding eye.  This work was necessary; but it was not his work.

Something of this he tried to explain to his new friends at headquarters when next he found an opportunity to ride over.  His explanations were not very lucid, for Bob was no great hand at analysis.  To any other audience they might have been absolutely incoherent.  But Thorne had long since reasoned all this out for himself; so he understood; while to California John the matter had always been one to take for granted.  Bob leaned forward, his earnest, sun-browned young face flushed with the sincerity—­and the embarrassment—­of his exposition.  Amy nodded from time to time, her eyes shining, her glance every few moments seeking in triumph that of her brother.  California John smoked.

Finally Bob put it squarely to Thorne.

“So you’d like to join the Service,” said Thorne slowly.  “I suppose you’ve thought of the chance you’re giving up?  Welton will take you into partnership in time, of course.”