'Yours is here right now,' returned McAuliffe, drily. 'Get, now!'
It did not take the ex-minister more than a few minutes to collect the few articles he could call his own. Then he reappeared in the office with his small bundle. Justin was bringing the supper. The other two were talking and sitting on the dilapidated sofa. Not one took the slightest notice of him.
But the outcast had no idea of departing without a final word, so when he was safely on the threshold, he paused to attack his old enemy. 'You've always been a tough sinner, McAuliffe. I reckon you can't keep it up much longer. Your sins will soon find you out.'
'Yours'll find you out, when they next call round here,' said the Factor. 'Get outside, now. It makes me tired to look at you.'
The ex-minister stepped over the threshold, but paused to deliver a final message. 'You are a bad crowd, a terrible bad crowd—I've never seen a worse. But it's my duty to pray for you. I will pray for you all.'
A shout of laughter followed his footsteps. Even Justin almost smiled. 'Well, well,' cried McAuliffe, slapping his knee heavily, 'I reckon that was Peter's last curse.'
[1] Winnipeg—then Upper Fort Garry.
[2] Manitoba. So called from its derivation, Manitou-toopah.