oad wagon road. In the middle distance loomed the tall stacks of the
mill with the little board town about it. Across the eye spun the thread
of the railroad. Far away gleamed the broad expanses of Lake Superior.

The cook had, early that morning, moored the wanigan to the bank. One
of the teamsters from town had loaded the men's "turkeys" on his heavy
wagon. The wanigan's crew had thereupon trudged into town.

The men paired off naturally and fell into a dragging, dogged walk.
Thorpe found himself unexpectedly with Big Junko. For a time they
plodded on without conversation. Then the big man ventured a remark.

"I'm glad she's over," said he. "I got a good stake comin'."

"Yes," replied Thorpe indifferently.

"I got most six hundred dollars comin'," persisted Junko.

"Might as well be six hundred cents," commented Thorpe, "it'd make you
just as drunk."

Big Junko laughed self-consciously but without the slightest resentment.

"That's all right," said he, "but you betcher life I don't blow this
stake."

"I've heard that talk before," shrugged Thorpe.

"Yes, but this is different. I'm goin' to git married on this. How's
THAT?"

Thorpe, his attention struck at last, stared at his companion. He noted
the man's little twinkling animal eyes, his high cheek bones, his flat
nose, his thick and slobbery lips, his straggling, fierce mustache and
eyebrows, his grotesque long-tailed cutaway coat. So to him, too, this
primitive man reaching dully from primordial chaos, the great moment had
yielded its vision.

"Who is she?" he asked abruptly.

"She used to wash at Camp Four."

Thorpe dimly remembered the woman now--an overweighted creature with
a certain attraction of elfishly blowing hair, with a certain pleasing
full-cheeked, full-bosomed health.

The two walked on in re-established silence. Finally the giant, unable
to contain himself longer, broke out again.

"I do like that woman," said he with a quaintly deliberate seriousness.
"That's the finest woman in this district."

Thorpe felt the quick moisture rush to his eyes. There was something
inexpressibly touching in those simple words as Big Junko uttered them.

"And when you are married," he asked, "what are you going to do? Are you
going to stay on the river?"

"No, I'm goin' to clear a farm. The woman she says that's the thing to
do. I like the river, too. But you bet when Carrie says a thing, that's
plenty good enough for Big Junko."

"Suppose," sug