“I have been through a good part of it,” said Ranald, quietly, “and I am convinced that here we have the pick of Canada, and I venture to say of the American Continent. Timber, hundreds of square miles of it, fish--I've seen that river so packed with salmon that I couldn't shove my canoe through--” “Hold on, now,” said the colonel, “give me time.” “Simple, sober truth of my own proving,” replied Ranald. “And you saw a fringe of the mines up in the Cariboo. The Kootenai is full of gold and silver, and in the Okanagan you can grow food and fruits for millions of people. I know what I am saying.” “Tell you what,” said the colonel, “you make me think you're speakin' the truth anyhow.” Then, with a sudden inspiration, he exclaimed: “By the great Sammy, I've got an idea!” and then, as he saw Ranald waiting, added, “But I guess I'll let it soak till we get down to the mill.” “Do you think you could spare me, Colonel?” asked Ranald, in a dubious voice; “I really ought to run through a bit of timber here.” “No, by the great Sam, I can't! I want you to come right along,” replied the colonel, with emphasis. “What is he saying, Colonel?” asked Mr. Blair. “Wants to run off and leave me to paddle my way home alone. Not much! I tell you what, we have some important business to do before I go East. You hear me?” “And besides, Macdonald, I want you for that big meeting of ours next week. You simply must be there.” “You flatter me, Mr. Blair.” “Not a bit; you know there are a lot of hot-heads talking separation and that sort of thing, and I want some level-headed fellow who is in with the working men to be there.”