ked at him steadily
for some time, a look which was as steadily returned.

"I'm not much of a visitor, Brother McMurdo," he said at last. "I guess
I am too busy over the folk that visit me. But I thought I'd stretch a
point and drop down to see you in your own house."

"I'm proud to see you here, Councillor," McMurdo answered heartily,
bringing his whisky bottle out of the cupboard. "It's an honour that I
had not expected."

"How's the arm?" asked the Boss.

McMurdo made a wry face. "Well, I'm not forgetting it," he said; "but
it's worth it."

"Yes, it's worth it," the other answered, "to those that are loyal and
go through with it and are a help to the lodge. What were you speaking
to Brother Morris about on Miller Hill this morning?"

The question came so suddenly that it was well that he had his answer
prepared. He burst into a hearty laugh. "Morris didn't know I could earn
a living here at home. He shan't know either; for he has got too much
conscience for the likes of me. But he's a good-hearted old chap. It was
his idea that I was at a loose end, and that he would do me a good turn
by offering me a clerkship in a drygoods store."

"Oh, that was it?"

"Yes, that was it."

"And you refused it?"

"Sure. Couldn't I earn ten times as much in my own bedroom with four
hours' work?"

"That's so. But I wouldn't get about too much with Morris."

"Why not?"

"Well, I guess because I tell you not. That's enough for most folk in
these parts."

"It may be enough for most folk; but it ain't enough for me,
Councillor," said McMurdo boldly. "If you are a judge of men, you'll
know that."

The swarthy giant glared at him, and his hairy paw closed for an instant
round the glass as though he would hurl it at the head of his companion.
Then he laughed in his loud, boisterous, insincere fashion.

"You're a queer card, for sure," said he. "Well, if you want reasons,
I'll give them. Did Morris say nothing to you against the lodge?"

"No."

"Nor against me?"

"No."

"Well, that's because he daren't trust you. But in his heart he is not
a loyal brother. We know that well. So we watch him and we wait for
the time to admonish him. I'm thinking that the time is drawing near.
There's no room for scabby sheep in our pen. But if you keep company
with a disloyal man, we might think that you were disloyal, too. See?"

"There's no chance of my keeping company with him; for I dislike the
man," McMurdo answered. "As to be