His fat face beamed with
pride.
"My boy," he confided to Bob, laying a pudgy hand on the young man's
shoulder, "this is the best camp in the mountains--without any
exception."
He insisted on showing Bob around. Of course, the young fellow,
unaccustomed as yet to the difficulties of mountain transportation,
could not quite appreciate to the full extent the value in forethought
and labour of such things as glass windows, hanging lamps, enamelled
table service, open fireplaces, and all the thousand and one
conveniences--either improvised or transported mule-back--that Plant
displayed. Nevertheless he found the place most comfortable and
attractive.
They caught a glimpse of skirts disappearing, but in spite of Plant's
roar of "Minnie!" the woman failed to appear.
"My niece," he explained.
In spite of himself, Bob found that he was beginning to like the fat
man. There could be no doubt that the Supervisor was a great rascal;
neither could there be any doubt but that his personality was most
attractive. He had a bull-like way of roaring out his jokes, his orders,
or his expostulations; a smashing, dry humour; and, above all, an
invariably confident and optimistic belief that everything was going
well and according to everyone's desires.
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