Charley's heart was too full for utterance. He grasped the proffered hand and wrung it, but was afraid to say a word, for a big lump had come into his throat.
A moment later he was bustling busily about the cabin collecting his luggage. His heart was singing merrily.
"Some day," he said to himself, "we may get enough timber back on these hills so that when a poor boy wants to build a boat he can do it, and so that a working man can build a house without having to slave for a lifetime to pay for it. I tell you it makes a fellow feel mighty big to think he's going to have a hand in making life easier for so many million people."