"I know how old woodsmen look at book-learned chaps, Mr. Ide. Pulaski Britt told me once. I was simply trying on you a bit of an experiment with my little knowledge of books. I was waiting to have you and Christopher pull me up short. I'm rather surprised to find that you think what I said was good sense. But after a book-fellow has bumped against practical men like--like Mr. Britt for a time, he begins to distrust his books. It's simply this way, Mr. Ide: I had a few young men in my high-school who were interested in forestry of the modern sort, and I worked with them to encourage them as much as I could. It is almost impossible for a reading-man in these days not to take an interest in the protection of our forests, for the folks at Washington are making it the great topic of the times." "Well," remarked Ide, with a sigh of appreciation, "I never read a book on forestry in my life, and I never heard of a lumberman in these parts who ever had. But if you can get facts like those you've stated out of books, I reckon some of us better spend our winter evenin's readin' instead of playin' pitch pede." He got up and gave the young man a complimenting palm. "Wade," he said, earnestly, "I'll own up that I've been a little prejudiced against book-fellows myself. Instead of givin' an ignorant man the contents of the book--the juice of it, as you might say---in a way that won't hurt, they are so anxious to have him know that it's book-learnin' they've got, they'll bang him across the face with it, book-covers and all. I like your knowledge, because it's goin' to help us in handlin' this thing we've bit off up here. But I'll be blamed if I don't like your modesty best of all." He picked up his calipers, stuck them under his arm, and started for camp with a haste that showed full confidence in his partner's ability. And the next morning he buttoned the camp letters in his coat, and started south for Castonia with the outgoing tote team. "I don't worry about this end," he said, at parting, "and you needn't worry about mine. Don't be afraid of going hungry. There's nothin' like full stomachs to make axes and saws run well. It will have to be hand-to-mouth till snow flies, then I'll slip you in stores enough to fill that wangan to the roof. Good heart, my boy! We're goin' to make some money." Wade followed him to the edge of the clearing with his first sense of loneliness tugging within him. "Safe home to you, Mr. Ide," he said, "and my respectful regards to Miss Nina, if you will take them. I suppose--she will--probably--the girl she took away--" he stammered. "By thunder mighty!" cried the Castonia magnate, whirling on him, "I'd forgotten all about that Skeet girl, or Arden girl, or whatever they call her." He eyed the young man with a dawning of his old curiosity, but Wade met his gaze frankly.