Suddenly Jim exploded, half angrily, half pettishly, like a disappointed schoolboy.
"Betty, I've got to go away. Your uncle says so. He asked me all about my mill, what my profits were, and all that. I told him honestly. I know I'm not doing too well. He said I wasn't making enough to keep a nigger servant on. He told me that until I could show him an income of $2,500 a year there was to be no talk of engagement. What is more, he said he couldn't have me philandering about after you until there was a reasonable prospect of that income. We talked and argued, but he was firm. And in the end he advised me, if I were really in earnest and serious, to go right away, take what capital I had, and select a new and rising country to start in. He pointed out that there was not room enough here for two in the lumbering business; that Dave, here, complained of the state of trade, so what chance could I possibly have without a tithe of his resources. Finally, he told me to go and think out a plan, talk it over with you, and then tell him what I had decided upon. So here I am, and——"
"So am I," added Betty.
"And as I am here as well," put in Dave, "let's talk it over now. Where are you thinking of going?"
"Seems to me the Yukon is the place. There's a big rush going on. There's great talk of fabulous fortunes there."
"Yes, fabulous," said Dave dryly. "It's a long way. A big fare. You'll find yourself amongst all the scum and blacklegs of this continent. You'll be up against every proposition known to the crook. You'll get tainted. Why not do some ranching? Somewhere around here, toward Edmonton."
Jim shook his head gloomily.
"I haven't nearly enough capital."
"Maybe I could manage it for you," said Dave thoughtfully. "I mean it as a business proposition," he added hastily.
Jim's face cleared, and his ready smile broke out like sunshine after a summer storm.