The root of this expressed resolve lay in a folio of notepaper on a stool beside Rod's chair. But it was not a matter he could make clear, or even discuss with his father. At least, that was how he felt. "I want to see the wheels go round," he answered lightly. "Very well," his father agreed. "You shall. I'll speak to Phil. He'll see that you get a job. I take it that's what you want." "The job's incidental," Rod replied. "I've been thinking about this for some time. I'm not dull. I have an idea I'll pick things up quickly. I want to know something about timber, about methods of handling it, about the men who actually do the handling. I want to get it first-hand. Even a university training should be an advantage in that." "No doubt," Norquay senior permitted himself an indulgent smile. "If you're so interested in timber, it's a wonder you didn't take a forestry course. The Lord knows we need forestry experts in B.C." "Why?" Rod inquired. It had no bearing on his purpose, but the remark aroused his curiosity. "To teach them how to get one prime stick to the booming ground without destroying twice as much more," his father snorted. "To inaugurate a campaign of necessary reforestation. Outside of two or three concerns, logging in B.C. to-day is an orgy of waste. They're skimming the cream of the forest, spilling half of it. Kicking the milkpail over now and then, refusing to feed the cow they milk. However, _we_ don't do that. I can show you limits we logged when I was a young man that will bear merchantable timber by the time your children are grown, my boy. But to get back to our sheep. You surprise me. If you'd gone in for wild-eyed art, it would have seemed more natural. I never could make you out, my son. You were always a bit dreamy. Sure this isn't just a whim? Want to see what makes the wheels go round, eh?" "Precisely," Rod agreed. It was as far as he would go. "Well, it won't do you any harm," his father rambled on, "and you may acquire a useful technique. We are expanding more or less, in spite of a conservative policy. Phil would undoubtedly appreciate a second-in-command before long. He has his hands pretty full. On the whole, I'm rather glad you've taken this notion. I won't last forever, and I'd like to see you and Phil solidly established before my mantle descends on Grove. Timber and land are good, solid foundations." "What about finance?" Rod asked idly. "That seems pretty gorgeously productive, pater. Does it ever strike you that Grove may outgrow the regulation Norquay mantle?" "If he does, it will be because he has made a more capacious one for himself," Norquay senior smiled complacently. "I imagine Grove's well able to run his own show and live up to the Norquay tradition, too. He has a genius for affairs." "So it seems," Rod commented dryly,--and the "affairs" he was thinking of were not the ones his father had in mind. "I wouldn't fancy it myself."