“Yes,” Jack threw in upon the ground swell of a heavy sob. “I shouldn’t like sittin’ countin’ money in a bank,” and while he caught his breath he looked about drearily, as if already he saw himself an imprisoned cashier. “Sitting in a bank isn’t the profession I chose, either. I am—I was a surveyor,” said Nathaniel Mar. “Oh—h?” inquired the child, in his surprise forgetting to continue the celebration of his private misfortunes. “Did _you_ use to go all over everywhere wiv a spy-glass and a chain?” “Yes, the members of the Scientific Corps are expected to go ’ all over everywhere.’” “Clear wound ve world?” “Well, _we_ didn’t go round—we went the other way, the way that takes you to the top.” “Did you get clear to ve vewwy top of ve world?” “Nobody’s ever been clear to the top.” “Why hasn’t anybody?” “Tough job!” “Was it tough job to go where you went?” “It wasn’t easy. Some of our work lay quite near enough to the arctic circle.” “But I expect you liked it a lot better van—” He paused, looked about, and felt gloom return upon him. If Mar was thinking so was Jack Galbraith. Again he dragged his rough sleeve across his hot, little face. “Ain’t it perferly awful sittin’ still?” he observed. “Yes, it’s pretty awful,” agreed Mr. Mar, glancing out of the window. “Was it up vere you found ve parlor bearskin and Mrs. Mar’s white fox?” “Yes, it was up there.” “You’re sure if I’m a engineer or a surveyor _I’ll_ be able to go up vere where you found—” “Certain to be able to go somewhere.” “Why can’t I go where you did?” he asked, querulously. As Mr. Mar did not answer at once, “Isn’t vere any little fing left to be done up vere?” “Oh, lots! But you see I went there in ’65—going on ten years ago, when people thought they’d like to have a telegraph line between Asia and America. So some of us went to survey the Alaskan part of the route (only it wasn’t called Alaska then) and decide the best course for the line that was to meet the one coming across from Siberia.” Again Nathaniel Mar studied the end of his pen. “Yes,” said Jack, blowing his nose with an air of faintly reviving faith in life’s possibilities. “Yes, and vere you met ve bear, and Mrs. Mar’s white—” “We got some furs and truck, but we didn’t get the telegraph line.” “Why didn’t you?” “Well, you see, only a few years ago people laughed at the idea of an Atlantic cable. But while we were hard at work up yonder surveying and clearing and setting up telegraph poles, didn’t some other fellows prove the possibility of an Atlantic cable by just going and laying it! So we were recalled.” “But you had got pwetty far, anyhow.” “Yes, we got pretty far.” “You got to where ve foxes turn white and ve bears—” “Yes,” said Mar, reflectively, and then there was a pause. Jack looked at him. “Couldn’t you tell me about when you got vat bear, or”—in the tone of one grateful for small favors—“or how you found Mrs. Mar’s white—”