"
"Officer, do you know what part of the mill Mayor Morrison is in?" The
Governor turned from Mac Tavish to Rellihan.
"He is nae sic thing as mayor till ten o' the clock and till he cooms here
for the crackin wi' yon corbies!" declared the old paymaster, pointing
derogatory penstock through the wicket at "the crows" who were ranged
along the settees.
Rellihan shook his head.
"Well, at any rate, go hunt him up," commanded His Excellency.
Rellihan shook his head again; this seemed to be an occasion where
unnecessary talking fell under interdiction; for that matter, Rellihan
possessed only a vocabulary to use in talking down to the proletariat; he
was debarred from telling these dignitaries to "shut up and sit aisy!"
"A blind man, now a dumb man--Colonel Shaw, go and hunt up the man we're
here to see!"
The colonel feigned elaborately not to hear.
"And finally a deaf one! Take off those ear-tabs! Go and bring the mayor
here!"
Mac Tavish dropped from his stool, armed himself with two paper-weights,
and took up a strategic position near the door which led into the passage
to the mill.
"Roderick Dhu at bay! Impressive tableau!" whispered the young man of the
Corson party in Lana's ear, displaying such significant and wonted
familiarity that Miss Bunker, employing her vigilance exclusively in the
direction in which her fears and her interest lay, sighed and muttered.
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