blamed them for doubting anything, and I
believe that's right." The Convener was a bit of a heretic himself and,
consequently, carried a tender heart toward them. "Let a man doubt till
he finds his faith. And that was Boyle's line. He let them doubt, but he
insisted that they should have something positive to live by."

"Our friend Hank," said the Superintendent, "would be delighted."

"Delighted? I should say so. But Hank 'joins trembling with his mirth,'
for Boyle got after him with the same demands."

The Superintendent was filled with delighted pride in his missionary.
"That's the kind of man we want. He ought to do well in your railroad
field."

"Yes," replied the Convener hesitatingly. "You think he ought to go?
Windermere will be furious. I wouldn't care to go in there after Boyle
is removed."

"It is hard on Windermere, but Windermere mustn't be selfish. That
railroad work is most pressing, and only a man like Boyle will do. There
will be from three to five thousand men in there this winter
between Macleod and Kuskinook. We dare not neglect them. I have had
correspondence with Fahey, the General Manager for the Crow's Nest line,
and he is not unfriendly, though he would prefer us to send in medical
missionaries. But that work he and his contractors ought to look after."

"There is a terrible state of things in the eastern division, I fear,
from all reports," replied the Convener. "By the way, there is a young
English doctor working on that eastern division from the MaCleod end
who is making a great stir. Bailey is his name, I believe. He began as a
navvy, but finding a lot of fellows sick, and the doctor a poor drunken
fellow, Bailey, it appears, stood it as long as he could, then finally
threw him out of the camp and installed himself in his place. The
contractor backed him up and he has revolutionized the medical work in
that direction. Murray told me the most wonderful tales about him. He
must be a remarkable man. Gambles heavily, but hates whiskey and won't
have it near the camp. You ought to look him up when you go in."

"I will. These camp doctors are a poor lot and the railroad people ought
to feel disgraced in employing them. They draw their fifty cents per man
a month, but their practice is shameful. It is a delicate matter, but I
shall take this up with Fahey when I see him. He is a rough diamond, but
he is fair and he won't stand any nonsense."

"And you think Boyle ought to go in?"

"Yes. O