"Not all of them," said Lorne. "There's a fellow that has a church over
in East Elgin, Finlay his name is, that beats the record of anything
around here. He just about ranges the county in the course of a week."

"The place is too big for one parish, no doubt," Hesketh remarked.

"Oh, he's a Presbyterian! The Episcopalians haven't got any hold to
speak of over there. Here we are," said Lorne, and turned in at the
door. The old wooden sign was long gone. "John Murchison and Sons"
glittered instead in the plate-glass windows, but Hesketh did not see
it.

"Why do you think he'll be in here?" he asked, on young Murchison's
heels.

"Because he always is when he isn't over at the shop," replied Lorne.
"It's his place of business--his store, you know. There he is! Hard
luck--he's got a customer. We'll have to wait."

He went on ahead with his impetuous step; he did not perceive the
instant's paralysis that seemed to overtake Hesketh's, whose foot
dragged, however, no longer than that. It was an initiation; he had
been told he might expect some. He checked his impulse to be amused, and
guarded his look round, not to show unseemly curiosity. His face,
when he was introduced to Alec, who was sorting some odd dozens of
tablespoons, was neutral and pleasant. He reflected afterward that he
had been quite equal to the occasion. He thought, too, that he had shown
some adaptability. Alec was not a person of fluent discourse, and when
he had inquired whether Hesketh was going to make a long stay, the
conversation might have languished but for this.

"Is that Birmingham?" he asked, nodding kindly at the spoons.

"Came to us through a house in Liverpool," Alec responded. "I expect you
had a stormy crossing, Mr Hesketh."

"It was a bit choppy. We had the fiddles on most of the time," Hesketh
replied. "Most of the time. Now, how do you find the bicycle trade over
here? Languishing, as it is with us?"

"Oh, it keeps up pretty well," said Alec, "but we sell more spoons. 'N'
what do you think of this country, far as you've seen it?"

"Oh, come now, it's a little soon to ask, isn't it? Yes--I suppose
bicycles go out of fashion, and spoons never do. I was thinking," added
Hesketh, casting his eyes over a serried rank, "of buying a bicycle."

Alec had turned to put the spoons in their place on the shelves. "Better
take your friend across to Cox's," he advised Lorne over his shoulder.
"He'll be able to get a motorbike there," a sugg