The things we do!

He never had been so well. Clean, hot, and steady the blood
pulsed in his veins. He was always hungry, and his most difficult work
tired him not at all. For long months, without a single intermission,
he had tramped those seven miles of trail twice each day, through every
conceivable state of weather. With the heavy club he gave his wires a
sure test, and between sections, first in play, afterward to keep his
circulation going, he had acquired the skill of an expert drum major.
In his work there was exercise for every muscle of his body each hour of
the day, at night a bath, wholesome food, and sound sleep in a room that
never knew fire. He had gained flesh and color, and developed a greater
strength and endurance than anyone ever could have guessed.
Nor did the Limberlost contain last year's terrors. He had been with
her in her hour of desolation, when stripped bare and deserted, she had
stood shivering, as if herself afraid. He had made excursions into the
interior until he was familiar with every path and road that ever
had been cut.


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