"'Bout face! Forward, march!" He
followed them and turned at the door. "All the rest of the Big Ones seem
to be too almighty busy to bother with the common folks to-day, sir! The
Governor with his politics, the adjutant-general with his tin soldiers,
and the high and mighty Senator Corson with that party he's giving
to-night so as to spout socially the news that his daughter is engaged to
marry a millionaire dude. Thank God, we've got a man who 'ain't taken up
with anything of that sort and can put all his mind on to a square deal!"
Morrison did not turn immediately to face the three persons, his familiars
in the office of St. Ronan's. He clasped his hands behind him and went to
the window, as if to survey the departure of the delegation.
"What with one thing and another, they're loading the boy up--they're
piling it on," observed Dow to Mac Tavish in sympathetic undertone.
"He'll resign out o' the meeser-r-rable pother," growled Mac Tavish. "The
word he just gied the gillies! It was as much as to say, 'I'll be coomin'
along wi' ye from noo on.'" The old man's hankerings were helping his
persistent hope, in spite of his respect for the Morrison trait of
devotion to duty.
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