"You went away a boy, and you've come back almost a man, Frank," she
said, her eyes brimming with tears of joy. "But you're my own boy the
same as ever; aren't you, darling?"

It was many a day before Frank reached the end of his story of life at
the lumber camp, for Mrs. Kingston never wearied of hearing all about it.
When she learned of his different escapes from danger, the inclination of
her heart was to beseech him to be content with one winter in the woods,
and to take up some other occupation. But she wisely said nothing, for
there could be no doubt as to the direction in which Frank's heart
inclined, and she determined not to interfere.

When in the following autumn Frank went back to the forest, he was again
under Johnston's command, but not as chore-boy. He was appointed clerk
and checker, with liberty to do as much chopping or other work as he
pleased. Whatever his duty was he did it with all his might, doing it
heartily as to the Lord and not unto men, so that he found increasing
favour in his employer's eyes, rising steadily higher and higher until,
while still a young man, he was admitted into partnership, and had the
sweet satisfaction of realizing the day dreams of that first trip down
the Ottawa on a timber raft.

Yet he never forgot what he had learned when chore-boy of Camp Kippewa,
and out of that experience grew a practical philanthropic interest in the
well-being and advancement of his employees, that made him the most
popular and respected "lumber-king" on the river.


THE END.