"But good Lord, Barry!" burst out his father, with quite an unusual display of feeling; "to think that a gentleman should hold his position at the whim of such whippersnappers as Hayes, Boggs et hoc genus omne.

And more than that, that I should have to accept as my minister a man who would be the choice of cattle like that."

"After all, dad, we are ruled by majorities in this age and in this country. That is at once the glory and the danger of democratic government. There is no better way discovered as yet. And besides, I couldn't go on here, dad, preaching Sunday after Sunday to people who I felt were all the time saying, 'He's no good'; to people, in short, who could not profit by my preaching."

"Because it had no pep, eh?" said his father with bitter scorn.

"Do you know, dad, I believe that's what is wrong with my preaching: it hasn't got pep. What pep is, only the initiated know. But the long and the short of this thing is, it is the people that must be satisfied. It is they who have to stand your preaching, they who pay the piper. But cheer up, dad, I have no fear for the future."

"Nor have I, my boy, not the slightest. I hope you did not think for a moment, my son," he added with some dignity, "that I was in doubt about your future."

"No, no, dad. We both feel a little sore naturally, but the future is all right."

"True, my dear boy, true. I was forgetting myself. As you say, the world is wide and your place is waiting."

"Hello! here comes my friend, Mr. Duff," said Barry in a low voice. "He was ready to throw Mr. McFettridge out of the meeting yesterday, body and bones. Awfully funny, if it hadn't been in church. Wonder what he wants! Seems in a bit of a hurry."

But hurry or not, it was a full hour before Mr. Duff introduced his business. As he entered the garden he stood gazing about him in amazed wonder and delight, and that hour was spent in company with Mr. Dunbar, exploring the garden, Barry following behind lost in amazement at the new phase of character displayed by their visitor.

"I have not had such a delightful evening, Mr. Dunbar, for years," said Duff, when they had finished making the round of the garden. "I have heard about your garden, but I had no idea that it held such a wealth and variety of treasures. I had something of a garden myself in the old country, but here there is no time apparently for anything but cattle and horses and money. But if you would allow me I should greatly like to have the pleasure of bringing Mrs. Duff to see your beautiful garden."

Mr. Duff was assured that the Dunbars would have the greatest pleasure in receiving Mrs. Duff.

"Do bring her," said Barry, "and we can have a little music, too. She is musical, I know. I hear her sing in church."

"Music! Why, she loves it. But she dropped her music when she came here; there seemed to be no time, no time, no time. I wonder sometimes--Well, I must get at my business. It is this letter that brings me. It is from an American whom you know, at least, he knows you, a Mr. Osborne Howland of Pittsburgh."

Mr. Dunbar nodded.

"He is planning a big trip up the Peace River country prospecting for oil and mines, and later hunting. He says you and your son engaged to accompany him, and he asks me to complete arrangements with you. I am getting Jim Knight to look after the outfit. You know Jim, perhaps. He runs the Lone Pine ranch. Fine chap he is. Knows all about the hunting business. Takes a party into the mountains every year. He'll take Tom Fielding with him. I don't know Fielding, but Knight does. Mr. Howland says there will be three of their party. Far too many, but that's his business. I myself am rather anxious to look after some oil deposits, and this will be a good chance. What do you say?"

Father and son looked at each other.

"It would be fine, if we could manage it," said Mr. Dunbar, "but my work is so pressing just now. A great many are coming in, and I am alone in the office at present. When does he propose to start?"

"In six weeks' time. I hope you can come, Mr. Dunbar. I couldn't have said so yesterday, but I can now. Any man with a garden like this, the product of his own planning and working, is worth knowing. So I do hope you can both come. By the way, Knight wants a camp hand, a kind of roustabout, who can cook--a handy man, you know."

"I have him," said Barry. "Harry Hobbs."

"Hobbs? Boozes a bit, doesn't he?"

"Not now. Hasn't for six months. He's a new man. I can guarantee him."

"You can, eh? Well, my experience is once a boozer always a boozer."

"Oh," said Barry, "Hobbs is different. He is a member of our church, you know."

"No, I didn't know. But I don't know that that makes much difference anyway," said Duff with a laugh. "I don't mean to be offensive," he added.

"It does to Hobbs, he's a Christian man now. I mean a real Christian, Mr. Duff."

"Well, I suppose there is such a thing. In fact, I've known one or two, but--well, if you guarantee him I'll take him."

"I will guarantee him," said Barry.

"Let me have your answer to-morrow," said Duff as he bade them good-night.

The Dunbars discussed the matter far into the night. It was clearly impossible for Mr. Dunbar to leave his work, and the only question was whether or not Barry should make one of the party. Barry greatly disliked the idea of leaving his father during the hot summer months, as he said, "to slave away at his desk, and to slop away in his bachelor diggings." He raised many objections, but one consideration seemed to settle things for the Dunbars. To them a promise was a promise.

"If I remember aright, Barry, we promised that we should join their party on this expedition."

"Yes," added Barry quickly, "if our work permitted it."

"Exactly," said his father. "My work prevents me, your work does not."

Hence it came that by the end of August Barry found himself in the far northern wilds of the Peace River country, a hundred miles or so from Edmonton, attached to a prospecting-hunting party of which Mr. Osborne Howland was the nominal head, but of which the "boss" was undoubtedly his handsome, athletic and impetuous daughter Paula. The party had not been on the trail for more than a week before every member was moving at her command, and apparently glad to do so.

The party were camped by a rushing river at the foot of a falls. Below the falls the river made a wide eddy, then swept down in a turbulent rapid for some miles. The landing was a smooth and shelving rock that pitched somewhat steeply into the river.

The unfortunate Harry, who after the day's march had exchanged his heavy marching boots with their clinging hobnails for shoes more comfortable but with less clinging qualities, in making preparation for the evening meal made his way down this shelving rock of water. No sooner had he filled his pail than his foot slipped from under him, and in an instant the pail and himself were in the swiftly flowing river.

His cry startled the camp.

"Hello!" shouted Duff, with a great laugh. "Harry is in the drink! I never knew he was so fond of water as all that. You've got to swim for it now, old boy."

"Throw him something," said Knight.

Past them ran Barry, throwing off coat and vest.

"He can't swim," he cried, tearing at his boots. "Throw him a line, some one." He ran down to the water's edge, plunged in, and swam toward the unfortunate Harry, who, splashing wildly, was being carried rapidly into the rough water.

"Oh, father, he will be drowned!" cried Paula, rushing toward a canoe which was drawn up on the shore. Before any one could reach her she had pushed it out and was steering over the boiling current in Barry's wake.

But after a few strokes of her paddle she found herself driven far out into the current and away from the struggling men. Paula had had sufficient experience with a canoe to handle it with considerable ease in smooth water and under ordinary conditions, but in the swirl of this rough and swift water the canoe took the management of its course out of her hands, and she had all she could do to keep afloat.

"For God's sake, men, get her!" cried Brand. "She will be drowned before our eyes."

"Come on, Tom," cried Jim Knight, swinging another canoe into the water.

A glance he gave at the girl, another at the struggling men, for by this time Barry could be seen struggling with the drowning Hobbs.

"Get in, Tom," ordered Knight, taking the stern. "We will get the men first. The girl is all right in the meantime."

"Get the girl!" commanded Brand. "For God's sake go for the girl," he entreated in a frenzy of distress.

"No," said Knight, "the men first. She's all right."

"Here," said Duff to Brand, pushing out the remaining canoe, "get into the bow, and stop howling. Those men are in danger of being drowned, but Knight will get them. We'll go for the girl."

It took but a few minutes for Knight and Fielding, who knew their craft thoroughly and how to get the best out of her in just such an emergency, to draw up upon Harry and his rescuer.