“Sure, same lady.”
“What does he mean, Martin?”
“The man's drunk, Cameron. He got a permit last week and he hasn't been sober for a day since.”
“Ha! ha!” laughed Connolly again. “Wish I had a chance.”
“But the lady?” said Cameron, looking at his friend suspiciously. “And these blushes?”
“Oh, well, hang it!” said Martin. “I suppose I might as well tell you. I found out that your sister was to be in on this train, and in case you should not turn up I told Connolly here to have a room ready.”
“Oh,” said Cameron, with his eyes upon his friend's face. “You found out? And how did you find out that Moira was coming?”
“Well,” said Martin, his face growing hotter with every word of explanation, “you have a wife and we have a mutual friend in our little nurse, and that's how I learned. And so I thought I'd be on hand anyway. You remember I met your sister up at your Highland home with the unpronounceable name.”
“Ah, yes! Cuagh Oir. Dear old spot!” said Cameron reminiscently. “Moira will be heart broken every day when she sees the Big Horn Ranch, I'm afraid. But here comes Mandy.”
The meeting between the doctor and Cameron's wife was like that between old comrades in arms, as indeed they had been through many a hard fight with disease, accident and death during the construction days along the line of the Canadian Pacific Railway through the Rocky Mountains.