He found himself in a little room containing two bunks, a stove, a counter and desk, and a number of shelves full of supplies.

About the walls hung firearms, snowshoes, and a variety of clothes.
A man sat at the desk placing figures on a sheet of paper.

He obtained the figures from statistics pencilled on three thin leaves of beech-wood riveted together.

In a chair by the stove lounged a bulkier figure, which Thorpe concluded to be that of the "old man." "I was sent here by Shearer," said Thorpe directly; "he said you might give me some work." So long a silence fell that the applicant began to wonder if his question had been heard.
"I might," replied the man drily at last.
"Well, will you ?" Thorpe inquired, the humor of the situation overcoming him.
"Have you ever worked in the woods ?" "No." The man smoked silently.
"I'll put you on the road in the morning," he concluded, as though this were the deciding qualification.
One of the men entered abruptly and approached the counter.

The writer at the desk laid aside his tablets.
"What is it, Albert ?" he added.
"Jot of chewin'," was the reply.
The scaler took from the shelf a long plug of tobacco and cut off two inches.
"Ain't hitting the van much, are you, Albert ?" he commented, putting the man's name and the amount in a little book.