His companion's opinion, doubtless favourable, was hindered of expression by the snort of the approaching locomotive, signal for a sprint that was rather vigorous for further exchange of views. There was barely time for the purchase of a ticket and the checking of the trunk, the conductor already standing with one eye on the baggage truck and the other on the grimy figure that protruded from the engine window.
"I ain't Scotch," David said hurriedly, as he and Harvey stood together at the rear platform of the train, "but I had a father, for all that, just the same as all them Sandys seem to have. An' when I was pikin' out to find the trail—it's a long time ago—the old man stood just like I'm standin' here with you, an' he says to me: 'David,' he says, 'trust in God an' do your duty.' An' I believe them's the best runnin' orders on the road. The old Sandys can't beat that much, can they?"
Harvey had no chance to make reply; for almost in the same breath David went on, thrusting an envelope into his hand as he spoke: "Here's a letter of interduction I want you to present to a fellow in the city—he's the teller in the Merchants' Bank, an' you might find him helpful," David concluded with a hemispheric grin; "hope you'll endorse my suggestion," he added, the grin becoming spherical.
Harvey tried to protest as best he could, protest and gratitude mingling; but the train was already moving out and his communications were chiefly in tableau.
"That's all right," David roared above the din; "good-bye, my boy. Remember Geordie Nickle's motto—an' don't blow out the gas."
XV
A PARENTAL PARLEY
"Better eat all you can, Madeline; you can't never tell when you're goin' to have your last square meal these days," and David deposited another substantial helping on his daughter's plate.
"Why, father, what's the matter? What's making you so despondent all of a sudden?" Madeline asked in semi-seriousness, following her father's advice the while.
"You don't understand your father, Madeline—he's always joking, you know," interjected Mrs. Borland. "You shouldn't make light of such solemn matters, David," she went on, turning to her husband, "hunger's nothing to jest about."