somewhat smoky fire in the big stove outside his
door. The bell rang. Men knocked ashes from their pipes and arose; other
men stamped in from outside. The dining room was filled.

Bob took his seat, nodding to the men. A slightly grumpy silence
reigned. Collins and Fox had not yet appeared. Bob saw Roaring Dick at
the other table, rather whiter than the day before, but carrying himself
boldly in spite of his poor head. As he looked, Roaring Dick caught his
eye. The riverman evidently did not recognize having seen the young
stranger the day before; but Bob was again conscious of the quick impact
of the man's personality, quite out of proportion to his diminutive
height and slender build. At the end of ten minutes the men trooped out
noisily. Shortly a second whistle blew. At the signal the mill awoke.
The clang of machinery, beginning slowly, increased in tempo. The
exultant shriek of the saws rose to heaven. Bob, peering forth into the
young daylight, caught the silhouette of the elephantine tram horse,
high in the air, bending his great shoulders to the starting of his
little train of cars.

Not knowing what else to do, Bob sauntered to the office. It was locked
and dark. He returned to the boarding house, and sat down in the main
room. The lamps became dimmer. Finally the chore boy put them out. Then
at last Collins appeared, followed closely by Fox.

"You didn't get up to eat with the men?" the bookkeeper asked Bob a
trifle curiously. "You don't need to do that. We eat with Mrs. Hallowell
at seven."

At eight o'clock the little bookkeeper opened the office door and
ushered Bob in to the scene of his duties.

"You're to help me," said Collins concisely. "I have the books. Our
other duties are to make out time checks for the men, to answer the
correspondence in our province, to keep track of camp supplies, and to
keep tab on shipments and the stock on hand and sawed each day. There's
your desk. You'll find time blanks and everything there. The copying
press is in the corner. Over here is the tally board," He led the way to
a pine bulletin, perhaps four feet square, into which were screwed a
hundred or more small brass screw hooks. From each depended a small pine
tablet or tag inscribed with many figures. "Do you understand a tally
board?" Collins asked.

"No," replied Bob.

"Well, these screw hooks are arranged just like a map of the lumber
yards. Each hook represents one of the lumber piles--or rather the
lo