Festing did not reply and she sat down and resumed:  “But I suppose you haven’t many shirkers in Canada?”

“I imagine we have as many wastrels as there are anywhere else, but as a rule one doesn’t find them in the woods and on the plains.  When they leave the cities they’re apt to starve.”

“You’re a grim lot.  Work or starve is a stern choice, particularly if one has never done either.  It looks as if you hadn’t much use for purely ornamental people.  But what about the half-taught women who don’t know how to work?  What do you do with them?”

“They’re not numerous.  Then one can always learn, and I imagine every woman can cook and manage a house.”

“You’re taking much for granted, though yours seems to be the conventional view.  But how did you learn railroad building, for example?”

“By unloading ties and shoveling ballast on the track.  The trouble was that I began too late.”

“What did you do before that?”

“Sometimes I worked in sawmills and sometimes packed—­that means carrying things—­for survey parties, and went prospecting.”

“In the wilds?  It sounds interesting.  Won’t you tell us about it?”

Festing complied; awkwardly at first, and then with growing confidence.  He did not want to make much of his exploits, but there was a charm in talking about things he knew to two clever and attractive girls, and they helped him with tactful questions.  Indeed, he was surprised to find they knew something about the rugged country in which he wandered.  He told them about risky journeys up lonely rivers in the spring, adventurous thrusts into the wilderness where hardship was oftener to be found than valuable minerals, and retreats with provisions running out before the Arctic winter.

Something of the charm of the empty spaces colored his narratives as he drew from memory half-finished pictures of the mad riot of primitive forces when the ice broke up and the floods hurled the thundering floes among the rocks; and of tangled woods sinking into profound silence in the stinging frost.  Moreover, he unconsciously delineated his own character, and when he stopped, the others understood something of the practical resource and stubbornness that had supported him.

It was encouraging to see they were not bored, but he did not know that Miss Jardine had found him an interesting study and had skilfully led him on.  He was a new type to both girls, although Helen was nearer to him than the other and sympathized where her companion was amused.  Festing’s ideas were clean-cut, his honesty was obvious, and she noted that he did not know much about the lighter side of life.  Yet she saw that, sternly practical as he was, he had a vague feeling for romance.

“Will you stay on the railroad when it’s finished?” she asked presently.

“I’ve left it.  I hadn’t the proper training to carry me far, and as the road is opening up the country I’ve bought a prairie farm.”