"I suppose you've finished school," he said to Davy, as man to man. "Do you ever think of taking a trip outside?"
The boy hesitated before replying. "I think of it all the time," he said in a low, moved voice. "I feel bad every time the steamboat goes back without me. There is nothing for me here."
"You'll make it some day soon," said Jack heartily.
"I suppose you know Prince George well?" the boy said wistfully.
"Yes," said Jack, "but why stop at Prince George? That's not much of a town. You should see Montreal. That's where I was raised. There's a city for you! All built of stone. Magnificent banks and stores and office buildings ten, twelve, fourteen stories high, and more. You've seen a two-story house at the lake; imagine seven of them piled up one on top of another, with people working on every floor!"
"You're fooling us," said the boy. His and his sister's eyes were shining.
"No, I have seen pictures of them in the magazines," put in Mary quickly.
"There is Notre Dame Street," said Jack dreamily, "and Great St. James, and St. Catherine's, and St. Lawrence Main; I can see them now! Imagine miles of big show-windows lighted at night as bright as sunshine. Imagine thousands of moons hung right down in the street for the people to see by, and you have it!"
"How wonderful!" murmured Mary.
"There is an electric light at Fort Ochre," said the boy, "but I have not seen it working. They say when the trader claps his hands it shines, and when he claps them again it goes out."