f an hour, I
watched him one day when he didn't know who I was--so I figured him
for a man and a half and raised him a dollar a day. He doesn't know
it, however. If he did, he'd brag about it, and I'd have to pay as
much to men half as good. When he's chopped for us twenty years, fire
him and give him that. He's earned it. Thus endeth the first lesson,
my son. Now come home to dinner."

After dinner, Donald returned to town to buy himself some
working-clothes at the general store. His purchases completed, he
sought the juvenile department.

"I want some kid's clothing," he announced. "To fit a child of three.
Rompers, socks, shoes--the complete outfit. Charge them to my account
and send them over to Nan Brent at the Sawdust Pile. I'll give you a
note to enclose with them."

Notwithstanding the fact that she was an employe of the Tyee Lumber
Company, the girl who waited on him stared at him frankly. He noticed
this and bent upon her a calm glance that brought a guilty flush to
her cheek. Quickly she averted her eyes, but, nevertheless she had a
feeling that the young laird of Tyee was still appraising her, and,
unable to withstand the fascination peculiar to such a situation, she
looked at him again to verify her suspicions--and it was even so. In
great confusion she turned to her stock, and Donald, satisfied that he
had squelched her completely, went into the manager's office, wrote,
and sealed the following note to Nan Brent:

Saturday night. FRIEND NAN:

Here are some duds for the young fellow. You gave me the right to
look after him, you know; at least, you didn't decline it. At any
rate, I think you will not mind accepting them from me.

I sent to Seattle for some books I thought you might like. They
have probably arrived by parcel-post. Sent you a box of candy,
also, although I have forgotten the kind you used to prefer.

Been up in the logging-camp all week, chopping, and I ache all
over. Expect to be hard and not quite so weary by next week-end,
and will call over for Sunday dinner.

Sincerely, DONALD McKAYE

He spent Sunday at The Dreamerie, and at four o'clock Sunday
afternoon boarded the up train and returned to the logging-camp. Mrs.
Andrew Daney, seated in Sunday-afternoon peace upon her front veranda,
looked up from the columns of the _Churchman_ as the long string of
logging-trucks wound round the base of the little knoll upon which the
g