theirs in return. Happening to mention Damase Deschenaux, one of the
men at once exclaimed,--

"That's a first-class scoundrel! It beats me to understand why Johnston
has him in his gang. He's sure to raise trouble wherever he goes."

Frank felt tempted to tell how Damase had "raised trouble" with him, but
thought he would better not, and the talk soon turned in another
direction.

The afternoon was waning before Johnston prepared to start on the return
journey, and Mr. Stewart tried hard to persuade him to stay for the
night--an invitation that Frank devoutly hoped would be accepted. But the
big foreman would not hear of it.

"No, no," said be in his decided way, "I must get back to the shanty.
There's been only half a day's work done to-day, I'll warrant you,
because I wasn't on hand to keep the beggars at it. Why, they'll lie
abed till mid-day to-morrow if I'm not there to rouse them out of their
bunks."

Whatever Johnston said he stuck to, so there was no use in argument, and
shortly after four o'clock he and Frank tucked themselves snugly into the
jumper again and drove away from the depot, Stewart shouting after
them,--

"If you change your mind after you've gone a couple of miles, don't feel
delicate about coming back. I won't laugh at you."

Johnston's only answer was a grim smile and a crack of the whip over the