It touched him deeply, and he suspected the other men of the same emotions, but by that time they had regained the independent, self-contained poise of the frontiersman.

They read it with unmoved faces, and tossed it aside with a more than ordinarily rough joke or oath.

Thorpe understood their reticence.

It was a part of his own nature.

He felt more than ever akin to these men.
As swamper he had more or less to do with a cant-hook in helping the teamsters roll the end of the log on the little "dray." He soon caught the knack.