"My God!"
Whether the ejaculation proceeded from one mouth or five, the manager and foreman could not distinguish; but the effect on the Flamsted men was varied and remarkable. The Colonel's cigar dropped from his shaking hand; his face was ashen. Emlie and Wiggins stared at each other as if they had taken leave of their senses. Joel Quimber leaned forward, his hands folded on the head of his cane, and spoke to Octavius who sat rigid on his chair:
"What'd he say, Tave?—Champ to home?"
But Octavius Buzzby was beyond the power of speech. Augustus spoke for him:
"He said a man applied for work in the sheds this afternoon, Uncle Jo, who wrote his name Louis C. Googe."
"Thet's him—thet's Champ—Champ's to home. You help me inter my coat, Tave, I 'm goin' to see ef's true—" He rose with difficulty. Then Octavius spoke; his voice shook:
"No, Uncle Jo, you sit still a while; if it's Champney, we can't none of us see him to-night." He pushed him gently into his chair.
The Colonel was rousing himself. He stepped to the telephone and called up Father Honoré.
"Father Honoré—
"This is Colonel Caukins. Can you tell me if there is any truth in the report that Champney Googe has returned to-day?