"From the camps?" he questioned eagerly.
"What camps, m'sieur?"
"The railroad camps, where they are putting the new line through, beyond Wekusko."
"I know of no camps," said Jan simply. "I know of no railroad, except this that comes to Le Pas. I come from Lac Bain, on the edge of the barren lands."
"You have never been down before?" asked the stranger softly. Jan wondered at the light in his eyes.
"A long time ago," he said, "for a day. I have passed all of my life—up there." Jan pointed to the north, and the other's eyes turned to where the polar star was fading low in the sky.
"And I have passed all of my life DOWN THERE," he replied, nodding his head to the south. "A year ago I came up here for—for health and happiness," he laughed nervously. "I found them both. But I'm leaving them. I'm going back to-morrow. My name is Thornton," he added, holding out his hand again. "I come from Chicago."
"My name is Thoreau—Jan Thoreau," said Jan. "I have read of Chicago in a book, and have seen pictures of it. Is it larger than the city that is called Winnipeg?"
He looked at Thornton, and Thornton turned his head a little so that the light did not shine in his face. The grip of his fingers tightened about Jan's hand.
"Yes, it is larger."