"It will be healthy, all right, but it won't be dude work," said Britt. "You'll have to hump 'round on snow-shoes or a jumper to five camps. Board and thirty-five a month! What's the particular ailment with you?" he demanded, rather suspiciously. "You look rugged enough." The young man did not reply, and the Honorable Pulaski stared at him, his eyes narrowing shrewdly. Mr. Britt had no very delicate notions of repressing an idea when it occurred to him "Say, look here, young man," he cried, "I reckon I understand! The Barrett girl, hey? And John got after you! Well, he can make it hot for any one he takes a niff at." "Can't I have that job, Mr. Britt, without a general discussion of my affairs?" asked Wade, with temper. "You're hired!" There was the click of business in Britt's tone, but his gossip's nature showed itself in the somewhat humorous drawl in which he added: "I'm glad to know that it's only love that ails you. Outside of that, you strike me as bein' a pretty rugged chap, and it's rugged chaps we're lookin' for in 'Britt's Busters.' If it's only love that ails you, I reckon we won't have any trouble about sendin' you out cured in the spring." But noting the glitter in Wade's eyes, Mr. Britt chuckled amiably and took himself off down the car to talk business with a man. During the long ride to Umcolcus Junction, Wade sat revelling in the bitterness of his thoughts. He was not disturbed because he had given up his school. There was a relief in escaping from meddlesome backbiters. The school had been only a means to an end: it afforded revenue to attain certain cherished professional plans that loomed large in Wade's prospects. Money earned honorably in any other fashion would count for as much. But the fact remained that he was fleeing, was hiding. Britt's rough and somewhat contemptuous proprietorship, so instantly displayed, wounded his pride. When he had passed the station to which he had purchased his ticket before he met Britt, he offered more pay to the conductor. He had seen Britt talking with the conductor a moment before, brandishing a hairy hand in his direction. "It's all settled by Mr. Britt," the train officer stated, passing on. "You're one of his men, he says." He growled under his breath as he accepted that label--"One of Britt's men." There were one hundred more waiting for them at Umcolcus Junction, where they changed to the spur line that ran north.