centration
may take me and find a place where I can use my independent judgment,
I'd better quit. Have I got that right?"

"It's what I tried to hint. You can count on my recommendation when
it's likely to be of use, but you said something that was rather
illuminating. You want to use your judgment?"

Festing laughed. "I don't know that I've thought much about these
matters, but I am an individualist. You get up against useless rules,
empty formalities, and much general stupidity in organized effort, and
good work is often wasted. When you see things that demand to be done,
you want to begin right there and get at the job. If you wait to see if
it's yours or somebody else's, you're apt not to start at all."

"Your plan has drawbacks now and then," Kerr remarked. "But what are you
going to do about the other matter?"

Festing was silent for a few moments. He had to make a momentous choice,
but had known that he must do so and did not hesitate.

"I'm going to quit and try farming. After all, I don't know very much
about railroad building; up to now I've got on rather by determination
than knowledge. Then, if I stop with you, I'll come up against a locked
door whenever I try to push ahead."

"There are locked doors in other professions."

"That's so; but in a big organization you must knock and ask somebody
to let you through, and unless you have a properly stamped ticket, they
turn you back. When the job's your own you beat down the door."

"I've seen farmers who tried that plan left outside with badly jarred
hands. Frost and rust and driving sand are difficult obstacles."

"Oh, yes," said Festing. "But they're natural obstacles; you know what
you're up against and can overcome them, if you're stubborn enough.
What I really mean is, you don't trust to somebody else's good opinion;
whether you fail or not depends upon yourself."

"Well," said Kerr, getting up, "I think you're making the right choice,
but hope you won't forget me when you leave us. You'll have a friend in
the company's service as long as I'm on the road."

He went out and Festing lighted his pipe. Now he had come to a decision,
there was much that needed thought; but, to begin with, he knew of a
suitable piece of land. Living in camp, he had saved the most part of
his pay, and had inherited a small sum from an English relative. In
consequence, he could buy the land, build a comfortable wooden house,
and have something over to carry him on until