Now Bob understood Amy Thorne's pride in the Service. He saw the true
basis of his feeling toward the Supervisor as opposed to his feeling
toward Baker. Thorne was in the current. With his pitiful eighteen
hundred a year he was nevertheless swimming strongly in new waters. His
business went that little necessary step beyond. It not only earned him
his living in the world, but it helped the race movement of his people.
At present the living was small, just as at first the pioneer opening
the country had wrested but a scanty livelihood from the stubborn
wilderness; nevertheless, he could feel--whether he stopped to think it
out or not--that his efforts had that coordination with the trend of
humanity which makes subtly for satisfaction and happiness. Bob looked
about the mill yard with an understanding eye. This work was necessary;
but it was not his work.
Something of this he tried to explain to his new friends at headquarters
when next he found an opportunity to ride over. His explanations were
not very lucid, for Bob was no great hand at analysis. To any other
audience they might have been absolutely incoherent.
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