The birch bark Lachlan let him have occasioned him many a rare tussle before he finally beached it at the Fort. The fall winds were roughening the lake. It was his first single-handed essay with the paddle. But he derived a certain satisfaction from winning alone against wind and water, and also gained food for thought in the odd circumstance of his growing tendency to get a glow out of purely physical achievements. It did not irk nor worry him now to sweat and strain for hours on end. Instead, he found in that continued, concentrated muscular effort a happy release from troublesome reflection.
His cheque was waiting. As he fingered the green slip whose face value was one hundred and twenty dollars, one fourth of his yearly stipend, he felt relieved, and at the same time oddly reluctant. Not until late in the evening did he get at the root of that reluctance. MacLeod had hospitably insisted on putting him up. They sat in the factor's living room before a great roaring fireplace. Their talk had lapsed into silence. MacLeod leaned back in his chair, pipe in hand, frowning abstractedly.
"Man," he said at length, his bearded face wrinkled with a smile, "I wish ye were no a preacher wi' labors i' the vineyard of the Lord tae occupy yer time. I'd have ye do a job for me."
"A job?" Thompson came out of his preoccupation.
"Aye," MacLeod grunted. "A job. A reg'lar man's job. There'd be a reasonable compensation in't. It's a pity," he continued dryly, "that a parson has a mind sae far above purely mateerial conseederation."
"It may surprise you," Mr. Thompson returned almost as dryly, "to know that I have--to a certain extent--modified my views upon what you term material considerations. They are, I have found, more important than I realized."
The factor took his pipe out of his mouth and regarded Thompson with frank curiosity.
"Well," he remarked finally. "Yer a young man. It's no surprisin'." He paused a second.
"Would it interest ye--would ye consider givin' a month or two of yer time to a legitimate enterprise if it was made worth yer while?" he asked bluntly.
"Yes," Thompson answered with equal directness. "If I knew what it was--if it's something I can do."
"I'm just marking time at Lone Moose," he went on after a pause. There was a note of discouragement in his voice. "I'm--well, completely superfluous there. I'd be tempted--"