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Sinclair, Bertrand W., 1881-1972

"Burned Bridges"


There was in Thompson's mind no more thought of burned bridges, no
heartache and empty longing, only an eagerness of anticipation. He had
come a long way, in a double sense. He had learned something of the
essential satisfaction of striving. A tough trail had served to toughen
the mental and moral as well as the physical fiber of him. He did not
know what lay ahead, but whatever did so lie would never dismay him
again as things had done in the past, in that too-recent vivid past.
He was quite sure of this. His mood was tinctured with recklessness when
he summed it up in words. A man must stand on his own feet!
He would never forget that sentence. It was burned into his memory. He
was beginning to understand what Sophie Carr meant by it. Looking
backward he could see that he never had stood on his own feet like a
man. Always he had required props. And they had been forthcoming from
the time the prim spinster aunts took his training in hand until he came
to Lone Moose self-consciously, rather flauntingly, waving the banner of
righteousness. Thompson could smile wryly at himself now. He could see
the unreckonable element of chance functioning largely in a man's life.
And in the meantime he went about Wrangel looking for a job!


CHAPTER XIV
THE RESTLESS FOOT

Being in a town that was at once a frontier camp and a minor seaport,
and being there at a season when the major industry of salmon-packing
was at its height, the search of Tommy Ashe and Thompson for a job was
soon ended.


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