'He's a daisy. Well, Billy, he's run down at last.'
'Sure enough,' agreed the hunter.
Then their conversation veered towards the events of the night preceding.
'Wonder where Alf is,' said Sinclair.
'I've just come from the hotel. Fellow there said Alf and Dave Spencer came tumbling in this morning, looking a bit used up, and crazy to know whether you'd turned up last night. They got mixed up over the drinks, so couldn't be sure whether they'd seen you or your ghost. Alf was wonderful relieved when he found out 'twas you right enough. Took another drink on the strength of it. He'd gone out again then. Guess we'll find him bumming around some place.'
Sinclair chuckled. 'Alf can't be still long, when he's awake. Got lots of life for his age.'
'Reckon I know him better than you, Billy,' said the Captain, who was dropping into a talking vein. 'Last night he was accusing me of being religious—so I am, mind you, Billy—but it may surprise you to hear that Alf himself gets the fit at times. No, you never would suspect him of getting any idea on religion. Before he went north as Factor, he was clerk in a store down Port Arthur way. I knew him well then. He used to have a whole lot of literary truck someone had sent him up from the States. Always reading these books, he was. You know, Billy, they weren't the sort of thing you could safely put before a Sunday school class. Well, 'bout twice a year regular, I'd get a bundle from Alf with a sort of note, which would read this way, "Got a bit of religious fit on me. If I kept these, reckon I should tear them up. I'd be sorry for that later. Sending them on to you to look after till I'm all right again. One in the blue cover's best for reading." A week or so later, another letter would turn up, something this way, "It's all right. Captain. Religious fit over. Send along books soon as you can." One day, though, the fit came on him sudden, before he had time to mail off the books to me; so he burnt them all right on the spot. Tell you, he was mad when the fit passed.'
They were now approaching the business portion, as represented by a short length of sidewalk, and a few stores crowned by offices. When about a hundred yards distant, they both became attracted by the spectacle of a knot of people, in the centre of which gleamed hotly the red coats of a couple of the militia, who at that time were responsible for the orderly conduct of those living in the Red River Settlement. The band approached slowly through the heat, while shouts and derisive laughter ascended continuously. There was a certain deep roar, which completely drowned all other voices.
The two outsiders became more interested. 'I'm dead sure that was Alf,' said the hunter.
'There's fun going on, sure,' said the Captain, beaming at the thought. 'Let's get over there, Billy.'