"Well," he said, "what do you think of it?"
"For eighteen months' work you have made an astonishing amount of headway," Thompson observed. "This is hard land to clear."
"Yes," Carr admitted. "But it's rich land—all alluvial, this whole valley. Anything that can be grown in this latitude will grow like a village scandal here."
He lighted his pipe.
"I tried high living and it didn't agree with me," Carr said abruptly. "I have tried a variety of things since I left the North, and none of them has seemed worth while. I'm not a philanthropist. I hate charitable projects. They're so damned unscientific—don't you think so?"
Thompson nodded.
"You know that about the time you left, discharged soldiers were beginning to drift back," Carr continued. "Drift is about the word. The cripples of war will be taken care of. Their case is obvious, too obvious to be overlooked or evaded. But there are returned men who are not cripples, and still are unfit for military duty. They came back to civilian existence, and a lot of them didn't fit in. The jobs they could get were not the jobs they could do. As more and more of them came home the problem grew more and more acute. It is still acute, and I rather think it will grow more acute until the crisis comes with the end of the war and God knows how many thousands of men will be chucked into civil life, which cannot possibly absorb them again as things are going at present. It's a problem. Public-spirited men have taken it up. The government took the problem of the returned soldier into consideration. So far as I know they are still considering it. The Provincial Legislature talked—and has done nothing. The Dominion Government has talked a lot, but nothing more than temporary measures has come out of it. Nothing practical. You can't feed men with promises of after-the-war reconstruction.
"All this was apparent to me. So I talked it over with Sophie and one or two other men who wanted to do something, and we talked to returned soldiers. We couldn't do what it's the business of the country to do—and may perhaps do when the red tape is finally untangled. But we could do something, with a little brains and money and initiative. So we went at it.
"I formed a joint stock company. We secured all the timber limits in this valley. We got together a little group for a start. They were returned men, some physically handicapped, but eager to do something for themselves. A man with that spirit always makes good if he gets a chance. We put in machinery and gear, put up a small sawmill for ourselves, tore into the logging business, cleared land, built houses. You see we are quite a community. And we are a self-supporting community. Some of these men own stock in the company. Any returned men can find a place for himself here. There is room and work and security and ultimate independence here for any man willing to cooperate for the common welfare. This valley runs for miles. As fast as the land is logged off it is open for soldier entry. There is room here for five hundred families. So you see there is a lot of scope.
"It was in the nature of an experiment. There were people who sneered. And it is working out well. There is not the slightest taint of charity in it. If I used a lot of money that may be a long time coming back to me that is my own business. Everybody here pays his own way. All these men needed was backing and direction."