on had rolled around he set off with
the express purpose of making himself acquainted with Sam Carr. Carr was
a white man, a scholar, MacLeod had said. Passing over the other things
MacLeod had mentioned for his benefit Thompson, in his dimly realized
need of some mental stimulus, could not think of a white man and a
scholar being aught but a special blessing in that primeval solitude.
Thompson had run across that phrase in books--primeval solitude. He was
just beginning to understand what it meant.

He set out upon his quest of Sam Carr with a good deal of unfounded
hope. In his own world, beginning with the churchly leanings of the
spinster aunts, through the successive steps of education and his
ultimate training for the ministry as a profession, the theological note
had been the note in which he reasoned and thought and felt. His
environment had grounded him in the belief that all the world vibrated
in unison with the theological harmonies. He had never had any doubts or
equivocations. Faith was everything, and he had abundance of faith. As a
matter of fact, until he encountered MacLeod, the factor of Fort
Pachugan, he had never crossed swords with a man open and sincere in
disbelief based on rational grounds. He had found those who evaded and
some who were indifferent, many who compromised, never before a sweeping
denial. He could not picture an atheist as other than a perverted
monster, a moral degenerate, the personification of all evil. This was
his conception of such as denied his God. Blasphemers. Foredoomed to
hell. Yet he had found MacLeod hospitable, ready with kindly advice,
occupying a position of trust in the service of a great company. Was it
after all possible that the essence of Christianity might not be the
exclusive possession of Christians?

Insensibly he had to modify certain sweeping convictions. He was not
conscious of this inner compulsion when he concluded to try and meet Sam
Carr without making theology an issue. Somehow this man Carr began to
loom in the background of his thought as a commanding figure. At least,
Thompson said to himself as he passed through the fringe of timber, Sam
Carr by all accounts was a person to whom an educated man could speak
in words of more than two syllables without meeting the blank stare of
incomprehension.

The Lachlans were worthy people enough, but--He shook his head
despondently. As for the Crees--well, he had been at Lone Moose less
than forty-eight ho