A school became necessary.

A little log building was erected and I was appointed schoolmaster.

It was as schoolmaster that I first came to touch The Pilot, for the letter which the Hudson Bay freighters brought me early one summer evening bore the inscription: The Schoolmaster, Public School, Swan Creek, Alberta.
There was altogether a fine air about the letter; the writing was in fine, small hand, the tone was fine, and there was something fine in the signature--"Arthur Wellington Moore." He was glad to know that there was a school and a teacher in Swan Creek, for a school meant children, in whom his soul delighted; and in the teacher he would find a friend, and without a friend he could not live.

He took me into his confidence, telling me that though he had volunteered for this far-away mission field he was not much of a preacher and he was not at all sure that he would succeed.

But he meant to try, and he was charmed at the prospect of having one sympathizer at least.